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Luciano Pavarotti is in the midst of an especially radiant Indian summer just now, singing with greater freedom and sweetness of tone than he has mustered for several seasons. Considering that Pavarotti will turn 59 next week - an age at which Beniammo Gigli's voice was in tatters and Enrico Caruso and Jussi Bjoerling were both dead 10 years - this is something of a miracle.

Other singers have gone on much longer: Carlo Bergonzi sang a remarkable Carnegie Hall farewell recital at the age of 70 last winter, and the French bass Lucien Fugere made some extraordinary recordings in his 80s. But Pavarotti's foremost appeal has always been the sheer, honeyed and, well, "youthful" beauty of his voice - combined, at its best, with a scrupulous artistry and the proverbial "way with a song" - and on Wednesday night that voice, seemingly impervious to age, rang gloriously through the Metropolitan Opera House when Puccini's "Tosca" returned to the repertory.

Of course, beautiful singing, even from a character so important as Cavaradossi, does not a "Tosca" make. And Sherrill Milnes' performance of the arch-villain Scarpia presented an interesting esthetic dilemma for a critic - namely, is it essential to engage a Scarpia who can actually sing the role or is it sufficient to find one who can embody it? There's no graceful way of putting this: Milnes doesn't sing very well any more. His voice is now harsh and ragged, and he easily lapses into a sort of sprechstimme. But the intelligence, acting ability and palpably malevolent specter he brought to the role was often thrilling and much more to the point than tidy vocalizing. In this particular part, on this particular night, I can't think of a working baritone I would have sent out in Milnes' stead. I say this with some regret - it would be nice to have both the notes and the character. But the character sufficed on Wednesday.

This was Carol Vaness' first "Tosca" at the Met. I have always found Vaness most effective in patrician roles - her Countess in "Le Nozze di Figaro" is a poignant, melancholy joy - and the character of a fiery, feisty actress engaged in mortal combat does not especially suit her, at least not yet. Caught between the spectacular singing of Pavarotti and the spectacular presence of Milnes, she got a little lost (although she was more "even" than either of them). Still, there was much to admire: tenderness in the duets with Cavaradossi; a fine, strong, throbbing "Vissi d'arte"; the harrowing cry of "O Scarpia, Attavanti a dio!"

The performance benefited enormously from the skillful casting of the smaller roles (James Courtney as Angelotti and David Evitts as the Sacristan stand out) and from the sweeping yet searching conducting of James Levine. If the reader will excuse a preposterous metaphor, we heard both the forest and the trees.

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