One of the best anthologies on disc, this celebrates the 25 glorious years of Opera Rara. I rather wish it had said so, or that it had not chosen a title so recondite in origin that it may well defeat the series’ keenest followers. ‘Sogno talor’ means ‘I sometimes dream’ and is heard in the recital as the opening words in the romanza of Donizetti’s Parisina: ‘I sometimes dream that I am running in an enchanted heaven’. At the end, as the final number of the whole collection, the oddly named Malatromba in Offenbach’s Le pont des soupirs sings ‘Ah! Qu’il était doux mon beau rêve’ (‘How sweet was my beautiful dream’).

These are, presumably, sentiments close to the hearts of Patric Schmid, Sir Peter Moores and all those who have dreamed up and then (unlike its co-founder Don White) lived to see the enduring reality of what must often have been thought a project unlikely to get far beyond the wishing stage. The two discs testify to the solidity of the achievement, for there’s not a dud number on them, and the problem appears to have been not what to include but what to leave out.

Better still, the anthologists have chosen so as to make a satisfying programme, not just a sackful of goodies. Overture first, of course; and the Maria Stuarda Overture, with its arresting, slightly quirky, start and its inexhaustible supply of lively ideas to come is just right for the occasion (more right, in fact, than it is as an overture to an opera concerning the fate of Mary Stuart). Then a chorus, full of expectancy about a rising star (Elizabeth Futral, introducing herself with fireworks that propel her straight to the high D). Then a few examples of the fitness for dramatic purposes of the operatic form as it evolved by the 1830s. Then several concerted pieces which delight with the skill of their workmanship as with their readiness of invention. This goes through right to the well-chosen stretto finale (Orazi e Curiazi), and the bonne bouche from Offenbach.

The repertoire is representative (except for the absence of Bellini), and so are the recordings, despite being drawn only from the years 1990 onwards. Typical of the series, the booklet is finely produced and generously illustrated. This review doesn’t mention half the delights; and I commend the issue even to those who have the originals (you’ll hear again things you’d forgotten were there or never appreciated at the time). All honour to the first 25 years, and all power to the next.