"Ombra Mai Fu" is not only in the shortlist for the title of "most sublime music ever created for the human voice", but it's also one of the world's most famous arias, well known even by people who cannot really name its title, its composer or the opera it belongs to.
Unfortunately, this has originated a weird phenomenon where everybody, and we mean *everybody*, has sung it in public (as opposed to, say, in the shower or while driving alone in the night). Because it's like THE aria that you HAVE to sing, period, no matter if it's really your thing, if you can pull off that tessitura, those colors, if that's your range -- doesn't matter, you have to belt out that sucka for some reason. It's like a syndrome or something.
The results?
Meh.
Very successful baritones such as Dmitri Hvorostovsky, an otherwise excellent singer and, we hear, a reasonable, pragmatic man, have bent "Ombra Mai Fu"'s linea di canto to their will, with quite maddening result (mercilessly dripping Russian testosterone all over Haendel's notes is not a high point in Dmitri's otherwise distinguished career).
World star sopranos such as our beloved Renay have decided to take a crack at "Ombra", making it, of all things, um, jazzy. Even il maestro Gigli, with that otherwordly voice, nevertheless managed to make it sound like a not-that-great national anthem (the loopy organ accompanist didn't help). Il migliore, period, maestro Caruso, sang it, too: it's here. It's not his finest moment.
Otherwise fine countertenors like David Daniels made us understand why Serse, right after opening, bombed and was pulled after 5 performances.
Steely Italian chanteuse Milva, whose Kurt Weill we otherwise like, couldn't avoid "Ombra" either, evidently: hence she turned it into a Xmas carol, of all things. A carol that will make you hate the holidays even more.
The hidalgo of opera, the perfect tenor, the nobleman who never hit a wrong note in a career without equal, Alfredo Kraus, sang it too -- couldn't avoid it. And, let's admit it, his "Ombra" is the best non-mezzo version ever -- if anybody could pull that off -- almost pull that off -- it was il maestro Kraus. He's so good his version deserves an embed here:
But still, this is an aria for a very specific voice. And it's not a tenor's, even a tenor's as flawless and spectacularly moving as Kraus.
Jennifer Larmore, bafflingly surrounded by scrap metal in an artsy French production, gave a very fine reading, all things considered -- all that rust.
La signora Von Otter's restraint, when compared to other vanity projects involving Serse, is indeed a breath of fresh air.
But there is no reason in the world why this skank should actually think it's a good idea to show up in a midriff-baring tank (which we do wear too, but, like, mostly when driving to Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf to pick up some cappuccino during L.A. visits to our California relatives and to Esa-Pekka, not to give recitals) and butcher Haendel the way this young lady did.
After this long rant the kind reader will be all like, yeah, OK, whutevs, then which version is the one?
And the answer, as in most cases, it's Lorraine Hunt Lieberson. When in doubt, it's always Lorraine. Lorraine 4 teh win.