This quite overwhelming performance of what I always regard as Puccini’s masterpiece has the advantage of Victoria de los Angeles’s unique Cio-Cio-San, fulfilling every aspect of the taxing but rewarding title-role. She made two commercial recordings of the work, but here heard live she surpasses both with a reading that, as far as singing and acting with the voice are concerned, is shattering, every emotion, every phrase ideally presented. I heard her at Covent Garden in the part but I can’t recall if it was this occasion or an earlier one. No matter; now it comes across the years with such heartfelt feeling and at the close such tragedy that it goes to the top of my Butterflies on disc.

As Alexandra Wilson points out in her well researched notes, de los Angeles was 33 at the time and at the apex of her career. She’s never fazed either by the intimate solos of Act 2 or the strength needed for “Un bel dì”, and her final dying solo is as moving as I have ever heard it.

No less remarkable is Kempe’s conducting – taut, immediate and, when needed, loving. His Covent Garden orchestra plays its heart out for him. Both in small and big things, the work could hardly sound more deeply felt than here. The large climaxes are shattering, the many moments of intimacy so touching.

Another reason why we are unlikely to hear the work so well done again is the overall sense of a company and ensemble, each member of it a dedicated singer. Today such a thing has ceased to exist. John Lanigan never had a truly Italianate tenor, but his keen voice and articulation and his commitment to the role of Pinkerton are satisfying enough on their own terms. The young Geraint Evans, singing Sharpless for the first time, is as warm and sympathetic as he should be in this tricky role. Barbara Hewitt is a natural, clear-voiced Suzuki. Michael Langdon roars loudly as the threatening Bonze. Only David Tree’s dry-voiced Goro is a bit of a trial.

Of course, de los Angeles’s studio-made sets have better sound, and the versions with Callas and Scotto, in a different vein, remain remarkable; but at this moment I cannot imagine hearing a more soulful, dramatic traversal of the work than we have here.