House-habitués know this as the Bastianini Ballo. It marked the baritone’s debut at the Royal Opera House, to which he never returned. His photograph is accordingly on the booklet-cover, and the note-writer, David Patmore, leads on his notable part in the performance. Notable, but not outstanding. I was present on this occasion, though in a seat high up and far back. The recording catches Bastianini’s voice much as I remember it, a voice of finest quality in the upper middle notes, a little thick and throaty lower down, throwing out an exciting high G (“brillava” in “Eri tu”) but giving the impression that he was not entirely comfortable elsewhere. In the first solo, “Alla vita che t’arride”, I remember wondering, with some surprise, whether his near-namesake, the great Battistini, might not have sounded rather similar: it was not the sound his recordings had led me to expect. And whether it was that he hadn’t entirely got the measure of the house (this has happened to many eminent newcomers), by the side of the other principals (except perhaps in the arias) it was not really a projecting voice. Also, from my distant perch, despite a personable stage-presence, he made no impression as an actor.

The great performance is Vickers’s. He was then in best vocal form, and already his intensity in such music by far exceeded that of any other tenor of our time. There are moments (“O qual soave”) in the love duet, for instance, where one might wish for a plainer, less inflected singing style, but at full power he is thrilling and his mezza voce (as we came to know so well) could sail freely up to the balcony, where it was almost as though he was singing softly in one’s ear. His solo scene in Act 3 is deeply moving: one of the most memorable by any tenor in any opera.

Amy Shuard also emerges well: a little rigid and severe in expression at first, but steadily gaining in freedom and humanity. I remember too the power of Regina Resnik’s Ulrica, another artist at the top of her vocal form at this time. I don’t think we fully appreciated Edward Downes’s firm but sensitive conducting: we do now. The source of the recording is not a broadcast but tapes made in-house for Lord Harewood. It is not flawless but, helped along by Roger Beardsley, comes out remarkably well. In any case, there is a saying with regard to gift-horses.