In a graceful envoi to his introductory essay‚ Benjamin Folkman writes: ‘With Ms Eaglen set for a long reign in her northern realm‚ we may be sure that the lure of the Mediterranean will prompt some more goodwill visits in years to come.’ I suppose so; and goodwill should be returned in kind. Still‚ let’s say that while such visits may be welcome in certain respects‚ in others they may be anticipated with hope rather than confidence. We shall hope‚ for instance‚ that by the next occasion she will have found a way of suggesting with her voice that these characters are not all the same. On the present showing‚ Turandot might be Tosca‚ Tosca Butterfly and almost any of them Angelica: which cannot be right. Mood: it’s true that none of these characters is brimming over with happiness‚ but there are different kinds of displeasure and varying degrees of suffering. Here it is all too much the same‚ as is the temperament as revealed (or not) in the shaping and shading of individual phrases. As for words‚ I think I found two instances where the meaning came through specifically – Santuzza’s ‘burning with jealousy’ and Butterfly’s spoken order to the child to go away and play. The virtues are mostly musical: upward intervals cleanly taken‚ broad phrasing‚ conscientiously softened tone‚ well­trained resourcefulness in the matter of trills and florid work. The voice is impressively ample‚ especially at the extremes. The Gioconda’s ‘Suicidio’ is a fine piece of singing on all accounts. The programme itself is not very satisfactorily ordered‚ and there are oddities such as the absence of a chorus in the Turandot aria when one is at hand for the Easter Hymn and for Edgar. Rizzi conducts some lacklustre playing. And when the booklet tells of jane eaglen singing arias from tosca and turandot by giacomo puccini‚ don’t you think it looks awfully silly? i do.