As JSU intuited yesterday, Luciano Pavarotti, one of the all-time operatic greats, has passed from our presence.
I am forced to confess that I was not a passionate fan in the end, being far more a partisan of the singer generally positioned as his arch-rival. Even so, when all is said and done, Luciano Pavarotti's album Mattinata provided one of my earliest and most compelling windows into the glorious potential of the voice, for which I will always be in this man's debt. In his prime, his voice was an instrument of beauty that could make any operatic unbeliever shake. His achievement of greatness from humble beginnings was without question a fable come to life. And I can't think of any other singer during my lifetime who served more readily as a symbol for opera itself -- its insurmountable grandeur and its capacity for folly, all at once.
Bernard Holland's detailed New York Times obit is here -- and, I'll note, was posted front and center on page one of the paper's Internet edition as of 1:45am EST.
Farewell, Signore Pavarotti.
Maybe that's part of what makes it hard for me to feel the full sense of loss on this one: Pavarotti scarcely existed in our consciousness outside the Pav/Domingo binary anymore, and...it's not the time to dwell on who was the greater artist, but it's not even really a question.
Posted by: Maury D'annato | September 06, 2007 at 01:37 PM
Very eloquently stated.
The one thing I omitted from what I wrote last night that I wish I'd remembered to mention was that Pavarotti's many charitable efforts late in life were definitely examples of a celebrity who genuinely used his status to effect change and help others.
Posted by: Steve Smith | September 06, 2007 at 01:58 PM
"it's not the time to dwell on who was the greater artist, but it's not even really a question"
You're right, it's not. Pavarotti had the sacred fire, and the other guy -- as estimable as he is -- doesn't.
No comparison.
Posted by: JSU | September 07, 2007 at 12:30 AM