This is the third period-instrument Elijah (or Elias, as it must be here) on the market. No less than the predecessors conducted by Philippe Herreweghe and Paul Daniel, its merits are many. Hans-Christoph Rademann’s own direction, for starters: lively, with a terrific swing to the Baal choruses and a solid pulse for the Baroque pillars surrounding each part of the work.

The orchestra is more full-bodied than its rivals, with a perfectly healthy string contingent of 9.9.7.6.4, a pair of assertive trumpets and a rasping ophicleide. Perhaps Rademann is less concerned than Herreweghe to pull out the many felicities of Mendelssohn’s original orchestration – trombones play a largely supporting role in the big choruses – but he is more prepared to cultivate legato phrases, which impart to the concerted vocal numbers a flow as smooth as the brook of Kidron itself. It’s too bad that the individual members of the RIAS Chamber Choir who step forward for these are not properly identified; the top soprano in particular catches the ear for her graceful phrasing and silvery tone.

The live recording places the listener about halfway back in the stalls: ideal in some ways but lacking the last measure of impact and dynamic variation. The chorus make every word count, as much as the acoustic and the engineers let them. Accordingly their hectic fugues and roused-rabble moments are more engaging than the more tender choruses, especially to be found in the latter stages of what is, after all, a meditative conclusion at provocative odds with much of the preceding fire and brimstone.

More of an issue is the flattened perspective on the principal singers, who are so much more than pious oratorio soloists and have parts to play in a sacred concert-hall drama. Thomas Oliemans is a sympathetic Prophet, more at ease in the company of the widow than raging at Ahab, and bringing everyone around him for ‘Es ist genug’, which is as soul-searching as its Bachian origins deserve and further intensified by some searing pure tone from the Berlin Akademie strings. Maximilian Schmitt is reedy as, I suppose, all Obadiahs must be. Perhaps taking her cue from the prominence Mendelssohn gives the contralto, following Bach in his Passions, Lioba Braun is a more assertive presence, positively demanding pity as the Widow before chewing the scenery as the wicked Queen. The unpromising Angel’s lot falls to Marlis Petersen, reliably sweet and smiling of timbre: a Pre-Raphaelite to the imposing, Giotto-like minister of grace realised by Renée Fleming (Decca).

If you must have Elijah, you must have Daniel. Owners of Herreweghe’s set will rest content; but, for a stylish and full-blooded Elias, there is much to recommend Rademann.