Okay, so I'm a little out of date! But… this was the last time I had the privilege of seeing our tenor in recital (How many agree with me that it's about time he gave another one in the UK?) and the last time that I wrote an article about Jose in this genre. For those of you who missed it, please read on……

Where to begin when writing an article about a Carreras recital? For a start I'm ever so slightly biased on account of the fact that I'm utterly besotted with the voice, mesmerised by the artist, and fairly partial to the man! Not that I'm uncritical, mind you. If the Maestro isn't on form I'm the first to point it out - much to the pique of my friends who mostly assert that he can do no wrong!

However, on this occasion there was simply nothing to criticise and a very great deal to praise. To my mind, this is the genre in which Senor Carreras excels, and nobody does it better or even comes close. The first thing that always strikes one is the incredible stage presence and immediate rapport he establishes with his audience. The next is the power of the blissfully unamplified voice.

In recital Jose gives us the real McCoy: beautiful art songs from the great and not so great operatic composers, interspersed with favourites from the ever popular Tosti, and other great song writers. But it's what he does with these songs that almost defies description. He delivers each phrase with such acuity and feeling that one is inevitably transported into another, higher plane, and the smooth continuity of his line is like that of a master draftsman whose pen never leaves the paper. Add to this the meltingly gorgeous floating pianissimi and one begins to approach an appraisal of his performance.

This tenor is also a painter of words and in recital his canvas is broad, ranging from early baroque cantatas, through heart-tugging love songs, to a jaunty Italian sailors shanty. Each vocal offering is awash with subtle or vibrant colours, highlighted by brilliant dynamics and brush-stroked with breathtaking sensitivity. There's a distinct baritone timbre to the voice now, which is incredibly masculine and only serves to add depth to an already highly sensual sound. I've always maintained that when Jose sings there isn't a dry seat in the house. Make of that what you will! The programme consisted of: Scarlatti's "Gia il sole dal Gange", Bononcini's "Per la gloria d'adorarvi", Anon's "Vieni sul mar" (the Italian sailors shanty, though better known as "Two Lovely Black Eyes"!), Tosti's "Apri", "L'ultimo bacio" (I'm a little bemused about the gender involved in this one!), and "L'ultima canzone"; Verdi's "Il poveretto" and "L'esule", Zandonai's "Notti di neve" and "Notti d'Agosto" (please, Jose, for my part, can we in future have the more melodic and utterly luscious Liszt songs instead? Yes, I know I said there was nothing to criticise, I'm just being pernickity, that's all!); Leoncavallo's "Declaration", "La chanson des yeux", "Serenade francaise" and "Serenade napolitaine", and Puccini's "Sole e amore", "Terra e mare" and "Mentia l'avviso". Altogether an impressive line-up from this tenor's staggeringly large repertoire!

There were also other delightful happenings throughout, such as when Jose lost his balance and 'blamed' Lorenzo Bavaj for tripping him up! A word or two must be said in praise of the latter whose accompaniment on piano was, and always is, exemplary. These two artists have such a wonderful rapport onstage, which totally infects the audience. Consequently, what we get is a mix of high art combined with some very amusing, albeit extremely refined, clowning.

What more could one possibly want? Encores, of course! After about ten minutes of solid applause, our hero rescued our hands from permanent bruising by returning to the stage to give "A vucchella" to an enthralled choir-seated audience. Those of us seated stage-front generally agreed that this tenor has the most expressive back in the history of the universe!

Three further encores followed: the delectable "Musica proibita", the even more delectable "Dicitencello vuie", and the inevitable "Granada" during which someone dropped a clanger (in the form of a loud clatter) but, apart from raising one of his highly equivocal eyebrows, Jose carried through without missing so much as a semi-tone.

Besides enchanting us to the nth degree, this man has the power to turn a hall full of otherwise decorous admirers into howling banshees in an attempt to lure him back onstage, and howl we did until our throats were sore! Sadly, no further encores were forthcoming. But, then, I guess the best way to leave them is shouting for more… more… more…