st, duets, are ascribed to various locations (Milan, Prague, and Laguna Beach, California), so presumably this show has been going the rounds. The acoustic seems to be invariably that of the bathroom, except that in ‘E lucevan le stelle’ it catches what might be the song of a Roman bird high above the great arena, or possibly a very squeaky bicycle tyre just outside.

Marcelo Álvarez begins Federico’s lament from L’Arlesiana in softly sensual tones that one suspects would not travel far of their own accord; he then sings well till spoiling the climax by a flashy climb to the high B. Salvatore Licitra weakens Cavaradossi’s lament with exaggerated portamento at ‘O languide carezze’ but commands some breadth of phrase and doesn’t overdo the sobbing. Both tenors are in good voice, and, as the introductory note does not fail to point out, the voices are among the best of their time.

What the note actually says is that among young operatic tenors these are ‘the hottest’. The duets constituting the bulk of the programme have been ‘created expressly to showcase the abundant power and glory of their voices’. The writer is so pleased with the verb that he uses it again in the next sentence but one: ‘They showcase Álvarez and Licitra as both singers enter the golden prime of their careers’. And now I’ll tell you some other things they showcase. They showcase a public which is presumed to like its music slow and beat-laden, breast-high in cliché, whether of melody, harmony, orchestration or aptness for setting to vapid sentimental lyrics. As part of the show, Bach, Gounod, Fauré and Rachmaninov are advertised, drugged and slid into the greasy case to be pawed lasciviously by their ‘arrangers’. Also showcased is the presumably eager participation of two leading opera singers, who should know better. And because they are artists in whom the genuinely musical public has some interest, they draw into proximity to their deplorable showcase reviewers and readers who would otherwise turn away in revulsion.