After the recent success with Sondra Radvanovsky, I returned to the Met's Vespri for one reason: Nelly Miricioiu. The Romanian soprano has built a formidable career in Europe singing roles such as Norma and Tosca and is featured in studio recordings of rarely performed works for the Opera Rara label. She has a huge cult following among opera fandom, and her name is regularly mentioned along with other notably intense singing actresses such as Raina Kabaivanska and Magda Olivero. From what I saw and heard last night, she can barely suggest in the slightest manner the true greatness of the aforementioned singers.

Vocally, she was a mixed bag. She has a cutting, vinegar-tinged middle, with a shrill top. She used those qualities to some effect to dig into her first scene and in the subsequent cabaletta, where (for better or worse) she came just short of total abandon. I found that her finest moments came in the second act duet with Arrigo, where she shaped the vocal line with a committed, firm legato. She husbanded enough of her resources to give an impassioned "Arrigo! ah, parli a un core," only to falter in the final pianissimo. Unfortunately, the "Mercè, dilette amiche" was her undoing. Her high notes sounded like a cat being flayed alive. The more her voice got unhinged, the more insecure she seemed onstage. The bolero, which is regarded as the highlight of this opera, was the low point of the evening. While I didn't expect much from her vocally, I did expect a certain degree of dementia in her plastique. Instead, what she offered was a dull portrayal of a dull character in a dull production. She didn't even deliver in the camp department.

What a luxury to have a good Italian baritone (in the person of Leo Nucci, pictured left) singing with passion, without sacrificing the soft caressing of those Verdian lines. He was most deserving of the loudest ovations of the evening. As Procida, Samuel Ramey seemed to have a bit less of the wobble that was so pronounced at the prima; he gave us a performance that, though just beneath his best, was remarkable in power and character. Francisco Casanova sounds (is it possible?) more and more squeally every time I hear him.