These discs from two of the highest-profile tenors in the Universal stable tell very different stories. Flórez’s, entitled just ‘Italia’, is a breezy collection of popular songs; its booklet is adorned with the fruits of a glamorous photo shoot in Italy and unencumbered by such niceties as texts and translations. Villazón’s booklet has its fair share of photos, but they’re muted and pensive in tone; for his release, we get the texts, plus an essay placing the songs he performs in historical context. It’s repertoire, too, that might on paper be suited to Villazón’s newly defined role as a Mozart tenor.

But as some have questioned his abilities in that exacting repertoire, so must one question the wisdom of his tackling these bel canto gems. The voice has had its well-documented issues, and there’s nowhere to hide here – or there shouldn’t normally be. As it is, Villazón opts for bland orchestrations rather than the original piano accompaniments, and DG’s engineering cossets the voice artificially in a slightly hazy aural spotlight. It sounds amorphous and unrealistic, the timbre strangely nasal, lacking in sap, colour and body; the phrasing is often forced and effortful.

That said, the lumpiness that has marred some of his Mozart is largely kept under control, and the tenor’s basic musicality is often allowed to shine through. But listen to Carlo Bergonzi in Bellini’s ‘Vaga luna’ (on his piano-accompanied Sony disc) to hear what can be done with this music. Elsewhere Villazón’s vocal production can be croony, and he fails to really get hold of some of the notes in Donizetti’s ‘La lagrima’ or in ‘La danza’, where the reined-in arrangement is particularly soggy. The bonus duet with Cecilia Bartoli of Rossini’s ‘La regata veneziana’ offers a dubious pleasure to close a disc that’s more for fans of Villazón than of bel canto – for that duet, incidentally, I’d recommend turning to Bruce Ford, Stella Doufexis and Roger Vignoles (Hyperion, 9/08).

The Flórez disc is a great deal more enjoyable, and sees the tenor letting his hair down alongside some starry colleagues in disarming style, bringing an easy-going swagger to ‘Torna a Surriento’ and ‘Arrivederci, Roma’. The tone can be a little forced at times, such as during Rossini’s ‘Bolero’, while ‘La danza’, though preferable to Villazón’s version, comes across as rather stiff. Sometimes the accompaniments feel a touch busy, too, and it’s possible to miss the bigger voices that have tackled these songs. Indeed, Flórez himself is best when he takes his foot off the throttle, relaxing into gentler moods of ‘La canzone dell’amore’, for example, where Craig Ogden’s guitar-playing melds beautifully with the quivering urgency of Avi Avital’s mandolin. A sunny album, though, which offers much to enjoy.