Mercadante, we remember (or not), had time out in Spain, returning to the operatic scene in 1832 with formidable mastery and gaining the reputation of a serious reformist. Now, here he is in sprightly youth, growing up in the Italy of Rossini where opera is the entertainment of the day and virtuoso singers are the stars. His Maria Stuarda was written and produced in 1821 and though it disappeared from the repertory within four years, the contention is that, whatever the cause, its eclipse could not have been due to the quality of the composer’s work. And it is triumphantly back with us now, in abbreviated form but unmistakably showing it to be made of good stuff.

Jeremy Commons puts it rather more elegantly: “a gorgeous and jewel-encrusted score” is how he describes it in his introductory essay. I’m a little suspicious of that “jewel-encrusted”, which presumably refers to the florid writing for the virtuosi. On the other hand, Opera Rara is certainly to be congratulated on its discovery and on the production of this premiere recording.

It may be as well to know in advance that the libretto has nothing to do with Donizetti’s opera on Schiller’s play, and very little to do with history either. Mary still reigns in Scotland, beset by disloyal courtiers but supported by her true lover, the Earl of Lennox, and an army of shepherds. At times it looks as if she may not survive for her execution at Fotheringay, but all turns out well for the time being. At no point does the music tell us to prepare for tragedy: it is not shallow, but neither do the feelings run deep.

The selections, as far as one can judge, have been well chosen, presenting a coherent view of the opera and including nothing that forfeits enjoyable concentration. The three women’s parts (two of them “men”) are technically of the most demanding type and all three singers rise brilliantly to the challenge. In particular, I relished Manuela Custer’s pure quality, and, though we are aware of the vocal registers in her singing, she appears to have mastered the art of passing evenly over the whole range. Colin Lee’s clear, incisive tone and fluent delivery are welcome too. The Philharmonia live up to the high standards set long ago by their founder, the obbligato parts (violin, oboe and piccolo) making an especially delightful contribution. Allemandi conducts with conviction and feeling for the idiom.