Juan Diego Flórez’s return to Melbourne drew a devoted audience to Hamer Hall on Saturday night, and with good reason: few contemporary tenors have shaped the bel canto landscape as decisively as he has. Now decades into a career that has taken him to every major operatic stage, Flórez remains a performer whose technical brilliance is matched by a disarming ease onstage. His unmistakably bright, flexible voice – so often praised for its agility in Rossini’s music and its elegance in the French Romantic repertoire – continues to bear the hallmarks of an artist who has refined his craft with an unassuming, unwavering discipline. The audience was visibly transfixed by his stage manner, an ideal balance of passion and restraint supported by a crisp gestural clarity that never once felt mannered.
Though widely celebrated as a recording artist and global ambassador for opera, Flórez brought to this recital a warmth that transcended reputation. The same generosity that drives his philanthropic work with Sinfonía por el Perú inflected his rapport with the audience, who rewarded him with ovations, flag-waving, and delighted shouts of recognition from members of Melbourne’s Peruvian community. That sense of mutual affection shaped the evening: this was not merely a star appearance, but something closer to a homecoming. It served as a reminder that accolades such as the Gran Cruz de la Orden El Sol and his 2012 title of Kammersänger are not mere ornaments but markers of an artist whose career combines remarkable musicianship with unmistakable humanity.
The first half of the program was devoted to lesser-known Italian songs from Rossini and Bellini, with an opera scena by Donizetti – an elegant return to the bel canto roots that defined Flórez’s rise. In Rossini’s “Le Sylvain”, his command of line and phrasing was immediately evident. French vowels were polished and cultivated, though tone took precedence over textural consonant detail. What resonated most was the overall impression: radiant timbre, expressive phrasing, and a singer utterly at ease. His gestures – occasionally leaning along the curved rim of the piano – revealed a tactile connection with the instrument, as though feeling its resonance through his body.
Bellini’s songs offered ample opportunities for both restraint and passion. In “Malinconia, ninfa gentile”, “Vanne, o rosa fortunata,” and “La ricordanza,” Flórez displayed effortless upper notes that made clear from the outset that there would be no concerns regarding his high register. The tenor voice is famously both blessing and curse: glorious when free, unforgiving at the top. Flórez, however, cut through the passaggio with the ease of a knife through soft French butter. If anything, a touch more Italian consonantal bite – particularly rolled rs – might have added further idiomatic character, though this felt more a matter of taste than critique. Donizetti’s “Ah! Rammenta, o bella Irena” and the excerpt from Roberto Devereux revealed the core of Flórez’s artistry: the ability to fuse tone with textual inflection so seamlessly that the emotional arc becomes the musical line itself. Coloratura passages gleamed with refined exuberance, and his breath control – astonishingly even – gave the sense of phrases shaped in a single exhalation. As with Roberto’s sworn devotion in the text, Flórez’s breath seemed inexhaustible.
Between sets, pianist Vincenzo Scalera provided solo interludes that proved him not merely an accompanist but a musician of equal narrative authority. Czerny’s arrangement of “Arietta: Almen se non poss’io” carried a Mozartian brightness, its delicate right-hand filigree rendered with warmth and clarity. In Act II, Scalera’s selections – Lecuona’s “Mazurka Glissando” and Godard’s “Berceuse” – were delivered with effortless charm. The glissandi sparkled with childlike playfulness, while the Berceuse revealed a supple melodic line, its lullaby contours tinged with quiet melancholy.
The second half shifted entirely to opera. Flórez opened with José Serrano’s zarzuela aria “Aquí está quien lo tiene tó y no tiene ná”, sung with rhythmic buoyancy and an innate sense of Spanish theatrical tradition. The Latin-inflected syncopations suited him perfectly; his body moved with an understated energy that set this apart from the Italian repertoire with its evocation of dance without resorting to cliché.
A complete change of mood followed in the scena “Ah, tout est bien fini… Ô souverain, ô juge, ô père” from Massenet’s Le Cid , with Flórez offering a dignified, contemplative interpretation. Long lines unfurled with masterful breath control, the emotional palette shifting between resignation and supplication – a hero’s lament rendered with noble reserve. From Gounod’s Faust, the aria “Salut! demeure chaste et pure” was another highlight. The solemn, almost religious opening blossomed into an expansive cantilena, its warmth anchored by precise shaping of the vocal line. The climactic high C rang out with authority: not forced or showy, simply inevitable. Boieldieu’s “Viens, gentille dame” from La Dame Blanche showcased Flórez at his most natural in French repertoire. The flowing legato, nimble coloratura, and nuanced emotional shifts between hope and doubt all reflected a singer wholly at home in a tessitura that would challenge many tenors but here seemed effortless.
Then came the encores – many of them. Donizetti, Verdi, Lara’s “Granada,” Brodszky’s “Be My Love,” and a set of Peruvian folk songs for which Flórez accompanied himself on guitar with infectious candour. In one, he held a mixed-voice, floating a top note for what felt like an entire minute and drawing delighted applause from the audience. The night ended not with theatrical grandiosity but with joyful communion: a superstar tenor, relaxed, generous, and utterly in command of his artistry. Melbourne will surely not wait long for another return.
Photo supplied.
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Stephen Marino reviewed “Juan Diego Flórez in Recital”, presented at Arts Centre Melbourne, Hamer Hall, on November 29, 2025.
