To the best of my knowledge, the great tenor Luciano Pavarotti last sang in Buffalo over 20 years ago, in 1986. He sang a traditional program with the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra, including Schubert's "Ave Maria," an aria from Massenet's "Werther" and the tender, lovely aria "Dalla Sua Pace" from Mozart's "Don Giovanni."
I didn't get to hear him then. Learning today of his death, I felt bad that I never got to hear Pavarotti in person. I'm afraid that's true of most of us. Buffalo doesn't play host to too many opera singers. If you couldn't make the trip from New York to Toronto, you'd have to be content with seeing Pavarotti on TV or hearing him on recordings. There was certainly a lot of opportunity.
In his last years, Pavarotti lost his edge. His voice wasn't what it was, and he became famous for canceling appearances. It was a pity that his decline coincided with his greatest celebrity.
But then, Pavarotti's greatest cultural contribution lay in his celebrity. The Three Tenors, say what you will about their mass marketing, had people who never thought they'd like an opera singer in their lives thrilling to "Nessun Dorma." I would guess that at least a handful of the wide audience drawn to the Tenors' broadcasts were inspired to try their first live opera.
Pavarotti, with his size, warmth and colorful ways, was one of the few modern classical superstars to enjoy titanic fame. When he left his wife, it was front-page news. Celebrity like that -- let's not be naive -- is good for the world of opera. It's good for the world of music.
While I hail him for that, I think it's also important to remember that beneath the puffery was, at least at one time, a considerable vocal talent. Once, I turned on WNED-FM and heard a tenor singing an aria from "Don Giovanni." It was arresting -- beautiful and emotional, technically stunning. You don't normally associate Pavarotti with Mozart -- but Pavarotti, it turned out, was who the singer was. Suddenly, I got an idea of what the fuss was about.
Remembering that performance makes my heart go out to Pavarotti, this larger-than-life sensation. I can't imagine who will be able to fill his shoes.
-- Mary Kunz Goldman
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