It is, it is, it is, the complete perfection. I will drink the wine of this great rendition, She, despite this sub-standard recording, has, is, everything. This, this, this make no mistake, is the perfect diva in this role. Listen to her here. What a voice! What a perfect rendition! But, and but, Angela Gheorghiu is almost as perfect.  What can I say. Callas is just a little too thin in the role - attenuated, perfect, but thin.

Of the three, Angela has it, at least at Prospect Park – but, for God’s sake fire that crap Orchestra who couldn’t play a single note on key supposing that they were paid twice what they were worth – always a sixteenth to a twenty-fourth of a tone off!

But my heart belongs to that wonderful mature voice of Caballe – that grown up angst.

Est, est est.

Early in ’74 I heard her alla Scalla – just before her operation. Brilliant, rich and deep – much as here. What’s not to love? And this, it is, it is, it is, at the Liceo de Barcelona is just before the surgery – by one week. Brilliant!

But where does one put the gorgeously self-conscious and knowingly almost perfect Renata Tebaldi – musically perfect but lacking that certain something (passion, meaning, who knows?). A cold but perfect rendition – no warmth. In my youth I thought that she had purity and knowledge – but now, as I grow older, it’s too good, too perfect, too cold. It lacks passion, human warmth. The voice is good, but there’s no heart. No, we can safely disregard La Tebaldi. One down. Many to go. Let’s move on!