‘It’s not,’ says Arlecchino, addressing the audience, ‘that this opera is faultless’ (he is alluding to a remark by the heroine so it’s not the conceited disclaimer it might seem). And of course, faultless it is not – it is, for one thing, a scherzo in three acts which aesthetically might do better in one. It is, however, musically a delight, not a moment too long for the listener at home, whose principal (or sole) frustration is that the succession of charming ideas is so rapid that you’ve just welcomed one arrival and it’s already out of the window to make way for another. In that respect it’s a bit like Messager’s Fortunio or Massenet’s Chérubin, both delightful precedents.

In other connections Falstaff comes to mind and, more unexpectedly, Capriccio. It’s the story of a woman with a choice to make. She has suitors aplenty, but which is the right one? She devises a test (hence the title, The Cunning Widow), and the right man wins. The storyline is as simple as that, the comedy being sustained by the diverse suitors and the amusement the chief comedian, Arlecchino, has with them.

The reference to Capriccio is of course anachronistic in that Wolf-Ferrari’s opera had its premiere in 1931, 11 years before Strauss’s, but it’s certainly not without point (the differences involving not just the two composers but national cultures). Falstaff points to the most obvious single source of inspiration, and to the nature of its success – the perpetual freshness and readiness of ideas, a score on its toes and alive with the spirit of comedy.

The performance could hardly be better. Anne-Lise Sollied is a soprano of whom we should surely be hearing more. Her voice is appropriately light but hints at reserves, and she sings with zest. The maid, Marionette (Henriette Bonde-Hansen), has a touch of quick vibrato, always life-enhancing in a young singer. Of the suitors, the Count (Francesco Piccoli) enjoys the single burst of applause but I fancy the part could do with a more mellifluous tone. The Arlecchino, Evgueniy Alexiev, has the most sonorous voice and yields to no temptation to overplay the comic role. But there are no weaknesses among the cast, and it sounds as if all are giving acted performances well in character. Otherwise, the great success is the orchestral score, conducted and played with élan and finesse by Enrique Mazzola and the Montpellier Orchestra.

I see Opera Grove concludes: ‘It can scarcely be ranked among Wolf-Ferrari’s masterpieces.’ If I were given to writing in books, my copy would now have a large question mark in the margin.