I first encountered Elizabeth Futral as Tytania at Opera Theatre of St Louis in 1986 and was entranced, not only by her slinkily sexy presence, but by her silvery, crystalline high soprano. Seventeen years on, the timbre of her voice has hardly changed and although she is a rare visitor to the UK – she sang Teresa in Sir Colin Davis’s LSO concert performances of Benvenuto Cellini three years ago and a Thaïs in concert is planned for English National Opera this Autumn – she has a big career in America, singing what might be termed the Beverley Sills repertoire.

Her Chandos Opera-in-English recital encompasses repertoire that does more than justice to her versatility, ranging from Handel: Morgana’s ‘Tornami a vagheggiar’ (‘Come take me in your arms’ in Amanda Holden’s translation) from Alcina and Semele’s ‘Oh Sleep, why does thou leave me?’ – via bel canto: Donizetti’s Linda di Chamounix, Bellini’s Elvira from I puritani and French opera heroines – Gounod’s Juliette, Delibes’ Lakmé, Offenbach’s Edwige from Robinson Crusoé – to more or less contemporary American: Carlisle Floyd’s Susannah (1955).There are also a couple of Mozart extracts: Konstanze’s florid first aria, ‘Ach ich liebte’ (‘How I loved him’) from The Abduction from the Seraglio and the Fiordiligi/Dorabella duet, ‘Ah, guarda sorella’ (‘See here, Dorabella’) from Così fan tutte: these are perhaps the least convincing numbers recorded here for Futral, though she has the flexibility and easy high notes for Konstanze, lacks the reserves of colour and warmth we have become accustomed to in the heroines of these operas. She certainly sounds more of a Despina than a Fiordiligi, especially in tandem with the rich voiced Dorabella of Diana Montague.

Elsewhere there is much to enjoy here, especially in the French items where Futral’s whitish tone sounds idiomatic, her high notes even tending towards the slight shrillness associated with the French coloratura. In the bel canto items – these include a duet with Montague from Rossini’s Zelmira – Futral can not quite match the dazzling coloratura technique of Sills, Sutherland or Gruberova in their primes, but this music suffers more than the rest from translation into English. She is a delightful Handelian, however, and the two arias recorded here whet the appetite for her Partenope, Cleopatra and Semele all of whom she sings on stage. Decent accompaniments from the Philharmonia under Steven White and full marks to Chandos for the presentation: not only an exemplary booklet, but ‘guest’ singers of the calibre of Montague and Barry Banks (in the Lakmé duet) and the Geoffrey Mitchell Choir for choral passages. The big ‘international’ companies could learn a trick or two from Chandos’s artistic integrity in recital discs.