For a composer with only footnote status outside his native Italy, Licinio Refice (1883-1954) has friends in lofty places. The song ‘Ombra di nube’ has been recorded by Claudia Muzio, Renée Fleming and Jonas Kaufmann, though Refice’s best-known opera, Cecilia, has been, even with its cult following, only a low-key recording presence. Thus, this new set from the Teatro Lirico di Cagliari, though less than ideal, provides a good chance to get to know this worthwhile piece that, in previous generations, had great audience appeal and singers such as Renata Tebaldi in the title-role. The live 2013 set from Monte Carlo (Bongiovanni) is a more attractive recording and Renata Scotto’s 1976 single disc of excerpts (VAI) suggests that vocal charisma is crucial to the opera’s full success. But this new set has vital B-level performances plus a full Italian/English libretto – important in an opera with extended religious rumination.

Premiered in 1934, the opera is a typical between-the-world-wars descendant of Puccini with its long, lyrical arches of vocal lines in its story of the Christian martyr Cecilia, set in the third century. Though St Cecilia is known as the patron of music, her legacy in this opera is mainly that of preserving her faith and virginity. Dramatic elements include a momentous religious conversion, miraculous healing and a saintly apparition, occupying a zone similar to grand Hollywood biblical epics such as The Robe and Ben-Hur, though all in a particularly glowing orchestration infused with genuine religious fervour. In fact, the composer was an ordained priest. Whether or not one recognises the extensive presence of plainchant in the score, one feels it. Even the most outwardly ecstatic moments contain subtle dissonances that remind you of the price that can be paid for religious conviction in any era.

What has kept it off the stage? Emidio Mucci’s libretto is pedestrian and the composer’s less than compromising nature resulted in an opera with a stately pace. Secondary characters take up more stage time than is warranted. Also, Refice’s through-composed sensibility accommodated set pieces, but not ones that are excerpted as easily as, say, Tosca’s ‘Vissi d’arte’ (and such excerpts can help keep an opera alive).

The most basic challenge is making the opera an enveloping place to be in ways that make its faults seem less than they are. And that, perhaps, is where the new set is lacking. The Cagliari cast have the kind of live-on-stage singing that wears down the at-home listener. The chorus have much to do but sound strangely muffled in the crowded, dry-acoustic sound-picture. In that respect, the Bongiovanni set is a welcome relief, though the orchestral presence is not nearly as strong as the Cagliari set under Giuseppe Grazioli. His cast – headed by Marta Mari and Mickael Spadaccini – are mostly up to their respective tasks, Mari being especially good in the more intimate Act 3 moments where she shifts deftly from singing to spoken proclamations. Those already familiar with the opera can rest easy with the Bongiovanni and VAI sets. But the Cagliari set is a good starter kit.