Four years on from their award-winning recording of the Requiem (EMI, 10/09), Sir Antonio Pappano and his Roman forces have now produced an equally exciting companion disc, another magnificent display of Verdian sophistication, closely tied to their ‘Viva Verdi!’ appearance at the BBC Proms on July 20.

Despite being a rational freethinker (his devout second wife, Giuseppina, called him ‘a very doubtful believer’) and his oft-proclaimed antipathy towards the priesthood and the power of the Church, Verdi excelled when setting devotional texts, especially those which were as angst-ridden as the Stabat mater. Additionally, during his long opera-composing career he had developed his choral-writing skills, raising the status of the chorus (both musically and dramatically) as an artistic vehicle. By generally favouring four pure parts in his choral textures, Verdi manages to hold in reserve extra contrast and richness for those moments dictated by the text. When he dictates unison singing, two lines doubled at the octave or the fullness of eight parts, Verdi’s calculations are always elegantly spot-on.

The disc begins with the late, anthologised Four Sacred Pieces, composed between 1889 and 1898. Here Verdi contrasts two a cappella pieces with a pair of vivid large-scale tableaux. They are an astonishing achievement for a composer in his eighties. Based on an ‘enigmatic scale’ (sung initially by the basses) suggested by Adolfo Crescentini, the unaccompanied Ave Maria’s hushed C major gives little hint of the difficulties of intonation which follow. Happily, the chorus cope perfectly, as well as with the vast dynamic range demanded in the succeeding Stabat mater – which, incidentally, must have been known to Elgar. Those initial ‘yawning’ open fifths on the lower strings could so easily have led into the Englishman’s Introduction and Allegro for strings: Elgarian researchers take note. Pappano draws out every colour of Verdi’s orchestral accompaniment in this movement.

By way of welcome contrast, the Laudi alla Vergine Maria is scored for four-part ladies’ voices only, the richly toned contraltos providing firm support throughout for their floatingly ethereal (though lightly vibrato-seasoned) soprano sisters. As with the Ave Maria, pitching is well-nigh perfect, to the relief of all.

Most striking of all is the astonishing concluding Te Deum setting for double chorus and large orchestra, the most harmonically advanced piece Verdi ever wrote. He said it was his favourite of the later works. From the perfectly blended basses’ and tenors’ hushed intonations at the beginning to the positively filmic ending, this is a masterly performance, enhanced by Donika Mataj’s brief soprano solo.

The main soloist on this recording is Maria Agresta, who brings a warm intensity to a tender five-minute-long Italian setting of the second Ave Maria on this disc, composed (or at least published) in 1880 with a rather ghostly accompaniment for strings. Suffused with a dark chromaticism, its shifting harmonies and arched phrases (with the cellos’ achingly beautiful arpeggios) is the real gem of this disc.

It leads dramatically into the original version of the ‘Libera me’ from the Messa per Rossini of 1869 – which was later expanded and transposed for the familiar Messa da Requiem in memory of Manzoni. The allegro risoluto fugue bounces along with a tremendous verve, having been introduced by one of those brilliant flashes of Verdian humour – the bassoon quartet chords. The brass-writing can easily become bombastic but not so here; Pappano’s players provide a firmness of tone in a perfectly balanced sound stage. Clarity of scoring is the keyword here.

Pappano’s speeds are consistently brisker than Gianandrea Nosedra’s interpretations from Turin for Chandos. He is also more noticeably vocal, very much in the Barbirollian manner, with some occasional sympathetic groans and hums picked up by the microphones. However, his chorus is the more highly expressive instrument and – despite its large size – capable of punctiliously fine detail in its collective singing. At full pelt it is equally matched to the tutti of the orchestra, whose playing is always accomplished, with especially crisp brass.

Pappano is such a compelling advocate for Verdi’s music that there could be no finer 200th-birthday salute than this stunning disc. Do try to find room for it on your shelves.