Like Marc Minkowski's previous two Offenbach releases for Virgin Classics, this studio recording of La Grande-Duchesse de Gérolstein was made in parallel with a staging at the Châtelet in Paris. That starting point makes all the difference: there's theatrical bite to the dialogue, and a real sense of an ensemble working together in every number, while Minkowski's conducting is responsive to every witty turn and sly innuendo in the text.

La Grande-Duchesse was composed at the height of Offenbach's popularity in Paris, and turned out to be one of his greatest successes, It was the contribution of the Théatre des Variétés to the Universal Exhibition in 1867, and at a time when the French capital was full of royal visitors from a proliferation of kingdoms right across Europe, its satire on the military ambitions of minor states and the scandals of court intrigues found a ready-made target. Having squeezed past the censors (who insisted that the "de Gérolstein" was added to the duchess's name so that she would seem a more obviously fantastical character), it became required viewing for all the visiting dignitaries, but in the early 1870s, after France had been defeated in the Franco-Prussian war, its anti-militarism fell out of favour and further performances were banned for a number of years.

Now it seems a gentle, good-humoured romp more than anything else, with a score that has some fine things in it, even if the quality of the invention sometimes drops. And the central character of the Grand Duchess, a woman of a certain age who falls for one of the young recruits in her army and has him rapidly promoted through the ranks before their marriage ends in disillusionment, is a perfect vehicle for a fine singing actress. It's to Felicity Lott's credit that as the only non-native French speaker in the cast, she hardly ever sounds out of place. There are vivid performances too from Yann Beuron as Fritz, the object of the duchess's desires, and Sandrine Piau as the peasant girl Wanda, his hapless fiancée.

The smaller parts are taken with the same panache, and though conducting Offenbach might seem light years away from Marc Minkowski's usual territory in the baroque, his performance is effortlessly stylish, and makes its own concession to authenticity by using what is reckoned to be the original version of the score, as it was before Offenbach began to cut and revise it during the first run of performances in Paris.