CDs:

• David Daniels: Handel: Operatic Arias


• Renee Fleming: Handel: Opera and Oratorio Arias


• Lorraine Hunt Lieberson: Handel: Arias

This is definitely one of those surreal weeks. I don't know about the rest of you, but I've been propelled from unannounced press conferences (That wasn't on our morning schedule!) to Metrobus meetings to a continuing series of articles of the decline of civilization, as reported by intrepid and no doubt increasingly nervous journalists.

It was therefore my good fortune to be on the treadmill tonight, watching Keith Olbermann do his nightly spiel, when Mr. O. broadcast the latest JibJab video. To the neighbors: Sorry about the barking laughter emanating from the fitness center.

The week's other saving grace has been revisiting George Frideric Handel, as channeled by several singers of rich and radiant voice. That experience, too, had its surreal aspects -- for instance, noting the intersections between the careers of David Daniels, one of the world's top countertenors, and the mezzo-soprano Lorraine Hunt Lieberson. For starters, they both sang Sesto in Handel's Giulio Cesare, but can you tell me which one carried the Uzi in the controversial Peter Sellars production?

In addition, I have chosen only American singers this time out -- not only Daniels and Hunt Lieberson but the soprano Renee Fleming. That too may seem counterintuitive, given the variety in Handel recordings. At our Dupont Circle store alone, we have an interesting selection -- Danielle de Niese's Handel: Arias, Great Handel from Ian Bostridge, and a three-disc Hyperion set from Dame Emma Kirkby -- and that is just a sample.

But as much as I enjoy my Emma Kirkby and my Bryn Terfel, I have a soft spot for the three artists in this week's recordings.

First there is Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, whose all too brief life and career yielded so much treasure. The more I hear that voice, the more I am beguiled, and the more I struggle for descriptions. The sound is distinctly feminine, with a bell-like clarity, beautiful tone and coloring. There's a corresponding emotional immediacy, but the singer never goes too far and thus draws the listener in.

In the Arias recording, I was particularly struck by the wonderful balance between Hunt Lieberson's voice and the orchestra. It hints at intimacy, perhaps even humility, rather than grandeur.

I'm always fascinated by people who set out to accomplish one thing and embark on an unexpected quest that reveals their true gifts. That was to some degree Lorraine Hunt Lieberson's story, and it's apparently true for David Daniels, who did not set out to be a countertenor but gradually accepted what proved to be his true voice.

And the results are simply thrilling. I usually prefer my countertenors safely ensconced in early music ensembles or all-male vocal groups, but Daniels can take the stage any time, rule it, and make it all look so easy. The beauty and naturalness of the singing temper the grandeur of Operatic Arias. This is a Handel hero for this age, and likely for the ages.

Like the other two singers, Renee Fleming is accompanied by period orchestra, and while there is some overlapping in talent and material on the albums -- yes, you can enjoy "Ombra ma fui" by both Daniels and Fleming -- there's no mistaking that lush, ravishing voice.

Fleming takes a trip through Handel's career, turning to both the operas and oratorios, a journey chronicled in the liner notes that hint at the never-ending struggles of composers and performers.

It's possible Handel is a victim of his own ubiquity, taken for granted by listeners due to his familiarity. After all, even Sue Townsend's Adrian Mole weighed in when Kiri Te Kanawa sang "Let the Bright Seraphim" at Charles and Diana's wedding.

But what struck me as I reviewed Handel's life and these particular vocal works is the degree to which the man responded to the changes, challenges, and shifts in his own life and age. These operas, oratorios, and cantatas provide the soundtrack as we march or straggle into the second half of 2008.