Haydn was justifiably proud of his 1767 Stabat mater. Within 15 years it was being performed far and wide, and its fame during the 1780s is said to have challenged even that of Pergolesi’s ubiquitous setting of the text. Vocal scores were published in London and Paris, but the German-speaking lands were slower off the mark, and it was the appearance of a new pressing in Leipzig in 1803 that prompted Haydn to revisit his early succès d’estime.

By this time Haydn had all but ceased composing, so he called upon his student Sigismund Neukomm to update the scoring of the work. In its original version, strings along with oboes doubling on cors anglais lend the work its characteristic sound world, astringency alternating with consolation. Neukomm added a flute and pairs of clarinets, bassoons, horns and trumpets with drums, to meet the latest taste for rich woodwind sonorities. It’s initially slightly disconcerting to hear this heavily Neapolitan-influenced music dressed in the colours of High Classical Vienna – succulent clarinets aren’t the first sound you expect alongside Italianate string parts and stalking bass lines – but you can rely on René Jacobs to uncover something thought-provoking and to execute it so finely.

The Stabat mater’s popularity hasn’t survived from Haydn’s time to our own, and the principal comparisons are recordings that are now 29 and 34 years old. In any case, Nikolaus Harnoncourt and Trevor Pinnock both recorded the original version of the work, so Jacobs by and large has the field to himself. The 32-strong Zurich Sing-Akademie acquit themselves with untiring zeal, really lifting the climactic fugue off the page, accompanied by the period-instrument Basel Chamber Orchestra. The solo quartet are strong, and out-perform their earlier rivals in the security of their florid passagework, especially in that concluding movement. Kristina Hammarström is a suitably maternal alto and Christian Immler rises spectacularly to the occasion in the Sturm und Drang of his rage aria, ‘Flammis orci ne succendar’, complete with wonderfully flatulent bassoons.

Jacobs, as expected, wrings every drop of drama from the music with dynamic manipulations and swingeing accents, maintaining a pitch of intensity even in the longer, more prolix movements. The recording (Paul Sacher Saal, Basel) is close and focused enough that you feel as if news of the events at the foot of the Cross were being urgently conveyed to you.