In the 2007-08 season, the Metropolitan Opera engaged several outstanding singers of bel canto. And we will consider three dazzlers, through their recent recordings.

Natalie Dessay opened the Met season with “Lucia di Lammermoor” (Donizetti) and pretty much closed it with “The Daughter of the Regiment” (also Donizetti). On her CD, available from Virgin Classics, she sings Italian arias of a bel canto nature — and that includes the Verdi: for example, his “Caro nome,” from “Rigoletto.”

Ms. Dessay is distinctly a French coloratura soprano: She has the French sound, which is often translucent, but mainly hard to describe. (One hears it instead.) And her singing on this disc is secure and impressive.

We can expect that from a disc, given all the tricks of studio engineers, right? Right. Nonetheless, some vocal albums come to us far less than perfect. This can be reassuring, in a way.

Throughout her tracks — Donizetti and Bellini, as well as Verdi — Ms. Dessay sings with poise and insight. You could raise an objection or two: For example, I think she gets fussy in “Caro nome.” But in general she is reasonable and musical.

Ms. Dessay is known as a singing actress, and some people consider her more actress than singer. Ms. Dessay has even made such noises herself. Yet this is nonsense. She’s an exceptionally good opera actress, yes, but she is a singer of rare skill. I daresay that no one who heard her Zerbinetta (in Strauss’s “Ariadne auf Naxos”) at the Met some seasons ago will ever forget it.

Still, for those who want the complete package, Virgin Classics supplies a bonus DVD. It shows Ms. Dessay in Lucia’s Mad Scene, filmed at the Met on September 24.

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Diana Damrau is a German coloratura soprano, and, like Ms. Dessay, she had an outstanding Met season. In Mozart’s “Magic Flute,” she took two roles (not on the same night, I hasten to say): Pamina and the Queen of the Night. And, in the same composer’s “Abduction from the Seraglio,” she sang Konstanze.

You know Konstanze’s killer aria, “Martern aller Marten”? Ms. Damrau killed it — absolutely knocked it out of the park.

She does not include that aria on her recent CD (also from Virgin Classics). But she does sing Mozart, and she also sings Salieri and Righini. Righini? Yes, something of a find of Ms. Damrau’s, a chap who lived from 1756 to 1812.

Salieri became famous through the fallacious (if entertaining) film “Amadeus,” and, since then, several singers have championed him, notably Cecilia Bartoli. Ms. Damrau sings arias from such operas as “Cublai, gran Khan dei Tartari,” or, “Kublai, Great Khan of the Tartars.” (They don’t title operas like they used to.) From a different Salieri opera, she sings the aria “Basta, vincesti: eccoti il foglio.” Mozart composed a concert aria on the same text, and Ms. Damrau includes that, too.

In addition to a fine voice, crazy-good technique, and ample musicality, Ms. Damrau has personality-plus (which is, of course, related to musicality). A good deal of that personality comes through on disc.

She sings the two Queen of the Night arias, and sings them like no one’s business. I will tell you this, too: Throughout the disc, her high notes are predictably excellent; but her lower register may be a surprise — strong, juicy, and stirring.

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Our third virtuoso singer is Juan Diego Flórez, the Peruvian tenor who joined Ms. Dessay in “The Daughter of the Regiment.” He’s the one who encored the showpiece aria with the nine high Cs.

His new disc, from Decca, pays tribute to Giovanni Battista Rubini, who lived in the first half of the 19th century. He was known as the “King of Tenors,” and, by all accounts, he was a wonder: He had a phenomenal vocal range; and he sang with strength — with grace and fluidity, but without prissiness.

Much the same can be said of Mr. Flórez, which, needless to say, is the point of this album. He sings arias from bel canto operas that we seldom have a chance to see — for example, Donizetti’s “Marino Faliero”; for another example, Bellini’s “Bianca e Fernando.” There are also excerpts from Rossini’s “William Tell,” which, believe it or not, has more than an overture.

Mr. Flórez has a distinctive sound, carrying that little bleat, or “caprino.” Way up high, the voice is not so pretty. But, boy, can Mr. Flórez go up high. It can be a thrill to hear.

Furthermore, he is game for the music he sings — this bel canto literature that he champions. He puts his heart and soul into this music, which, let’s face it, is not the B-minor Mass. Some of Mr. Flórez’s disc is downright exciting.

Let us grant that there is no substitute for live performance. If you have missed Ms. Dessay, Ms. Damrau, or Mr. Flórez in an opera house or recital hall, you have missed something. But recordings are souvenirs of careers, voices, personalities. And our three dazzlers have recorded some valuable souvenirs.