By the gods, I believe these gentlemen sing this as well as I've ever heard it sung. Criticism of such free, finely shaded singing can only amount to nitpicking, which I'm glad to leave to any pickers hereabouts. In nearly any other company Rogatchewsky would have the advantage simply for his perfect French, but Malipieri has a focused purity of tone, soaring top notes, a delicate portamento, and a sharpness in declamation that comes as a wonderful surprise after such lyrical sensitivity. It all combines to convey a deep passion with no loss of elegance. Sung like this, the Italian translation feels wholly justified.