Aprile Millo (born April 14, 1958) is an American operatic soprano of Italian and Irish ancestry who is particularly admired for her interpretations of the works of Giuseppe Verdi. Possessing a spinto voice of power, warmth and temperament, Millo became one of the most celebrated opera singers of the late twentieth century. Although she has performed at many of the world's leading opera houses and with many orchestras and ensembles internationally, Millo has spent much of her career appearing in productions at the Metropolitan Opera. Aprile Millo was born in New York City, the daughter of two opera singers, tenor Giovanni Millo (John Hamill) and soprano Margherita Girosi. Millo became interested in music at an early age and received her musical education primarily from her parents. Millo is noted for the beauty of her voice and her nuanced interpretation. On April 4, 1986, Donal Henahan wrote in the New York times of Millo's performance in Don Carlo: "Miss Millo sounds more and more like the Verdi soprano we've been waiting for." Later in 1986 (June 18), reviewing a Metropolitan Opera production of Aida in Central Park, Mr. Rockwell wrote, "Miss Millo has a real Verdi sound...her darkly yet delicately colored lower voice, full of urgency in the phrasing, and her overall mastery of this role from a technical and interpretive standpoint, are already very moving. Her performance reached its high point just where it must, in the third act, when Aida grows from a supplicating ingenue into a woman torn by her conflicts. With singing like this, nothing could dull the intensity of Verdi's drama. The concert formality, the populist setting, the amplification, all fell away in the face of real operatic drama embodied in song. If Mr. Domingo and Mr. Pavarotti can match that in the next two parks openers, the Met and its fans will be fortunate indeed."... en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aprile_M...
Lyrics & English Translation
Oh, if I could scatter the clouds
That oppress my brow.
Is it day?
Or is it night?
Am I in my apartments?
Or is it the tomb?
Listen...
The wind moans all around...
Look, there is the bare, deserted shore.
Look, a soldier lies sorely wounded at my side,
But, it is not Gualtiero.
'Tis he... Ernesto!
He speaks.
He calls his son.
His son is safe!
It was I who rescued him
From the assassins.
Let the boy be restored to his father,
Who may see him,
Embrace him and forgive me
Before he dies.
Oh, my innocent child, for me implore him.
With the smile of innocence,
With the glance of love,
Of clemency and pardon
Pray speak to your Father.
Tell him, ah, tell him that you live,
Tell him that you are free because of me
So that he may look mercifully
Upon the who did so much for you.
What is that fatal sound...
Echoing, resounding?
Is that the trumpet
Of the day of judgment?
Gualtiero!
In danger!
He is a prisoner!
Sever his bonds and let him escape.
What do I see?
You are handing him over to the guards.
The fatal scaffold has been erected for him.
O sun, veil yourself in darkest gloom,
Hide the cruel axe from my sight.
But I see the blood flowing already,
It floods over me;
I shall die of horror and suffering.
A link to this wonderful artist's personal website: operavision.org/
Please Enjoy!
I send my kind and warm regards,