The original three tenors who caused an explosion of interest in classical music and opera several World Cups ago are now reaching the twilight of their careers (though you would not believe it of Placido Domingo) and thinking about them the other night I felt a pang of nostalgia for those heady days when they were all singing Con Belto.
Luciano Pavarotti (or Fat Lucy as he was sometimes called...) was never my favourite. He always struck me as being a lazy singer, more intent on presentation and flourish, rather than any deep portrayal of the character he was playing. Lots of scoopy notes and sliding over runs, and while the pinging crystal clear sound of his tenor was loved by many, I found it had limited appeal.
Jose Carreras I adored. I first came across him in the early 1970's when my then husband, a singer, was boosting the chorus at Covent Garden in a borrowed production of a early Verdi opera, I Lombardi, very rarely performed, but full of the most glorious music. Jose Carreras was making an early appearance at the Royal Opera House in the tenor hero role and I have to say that when I first heard his voice I was simply pole axed. It was the most glorious full bodied, golden sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. When listening to him I was struck by how much he sounded like an early tenor favourite of mine, Guiseppe di Stefano (who used to sing a lot with Maria Callas), with similar phrasing and generous tone. Perhaps too generous at times. Later on in an interview, Jose said that one of his earlier heroes and one on whom he had based his singing style was, yes, Di Stefano...
I attended a dress rehearsal of this production and sat in the stalls, not something I did very often and afterwards when backstage having lunch in the Covent Garden canteen found I was standing next to Jose in the queue for egg and chips. I was struck all of a heap and so by the look on her face, was the lady ladling out the food...
Glorious singer, but never the same after his brush with leukemia. How could he be?
And then of course, there is Placido. What can one say? Not a lot without writing reams so I am going to save him up for a blog entry all on his own. My admiration for this great artist knows no bounds, particularly after hearing him as Siegmund in Die Walkure last year at Covent Garden. Impossible to believe after watching this performance that this man was in his mid-60s. Simply sensational.
I remember idly thinking one day that these three Superstars were like wines: Pavarotti, a Lambrusco, light, sparkling but with no flavour or depth; Carreras, a Rioja, dark and full of heart and Domingo, well, to me, he was a full bodied, warm claret.
A conceit I know...
