Remembering Luciano

The music world was saddened today by the news that The King of High C's Luciano Pavarotti has died. In Cincinnati, memories are pouring in from those who knew -- or at least crossed paths with -- the man who many consider the greatest tenor of modern times.

From London, where he is on tour with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, Cincinnati native and Metropolitan Opera maestro James Levine recalled some 139 performances at the Met since 1973. He e-mailed this remark:

"Few singers in the history of the Metropolitan Opera have had the popularity with the general public and the enormous impact that Luciano Pavarotti had during his 36-year career with the company. Luciano's voice was so extraordinarily beautiful and his delivery so natural and direct that his singing spoke right to the hearts of listeners whether they knew anything about opera or not. I will never forget the sheer magic of that voice, but I will also remember the warm, generous, and exuberant spirit of the man. He is, rightfully, a legend already -- an artist whose recordings will be a reference for singers and opera lovers for a long time to come."

In Cincinnati, Inelda Tajo, widow of the great Metropolitan Opera basso Italo Tajo, recalled that her husband performed Toscas and Bohemes with Pavarotti that were too numerous to count. Their first collaboration, she believes, was a "La Boheme" in Yugoslavia in the late '50s, when Pavarotti was singing his first Rodolfo and Tajo was Colline.

"They sang in Chicago, San Franciso and the Met. I remember one 'Boheme' was in San Francisco with Mirella Freni in 1987," she says. "It was a joy for Italo to work with him, because he was so full of enthusiasm. He was like a giant. We were together for Luciano's birthday (one year) in New York in October. He said, 'Italo, the year you made your debut, 1935, I was born. So we have something in common.'"

When Pavarotti performed in Riverfront Coliseum in 1994, it was shortly after Italo Tajo's death. Mrs. Tajo went backstage to greet him, and after intermission, the tenor dedicated the aria, "Donna non vidi mai" from Puccini's "Manon Lescaut," to the late basso.

"To tell you how sweet that man was, and how thoughtful -- I was beside myself," she says.

Cincinnati Opera artistic director Evans Mirageas, who first met Pavarotti in the 70s and went on to produce numerous opera recordings with the tenor for Decca, notes, "From the very first moment I was introduced to him, whenever you were in his presence, you were in the presence of an enormous personality."

Mirageas' favorite memory of Pavarotti is from the summer of 1997. He and Pavarotti were in Milan, making a recording with Cecilia Bartoli of Rossini's comedy "Turco in Italia" with an allstar cast. Decca also wanted to put out yet another "greatest hits" of Pavarotti. But they hit upon the idea of adding some music he'd never recorded before. Mirageas asked him to record a duet with Bartoli.

"But typical of him, he was always bargaining. He said, 'I won't record just one duet, I want to record two duets,'" Mirageas recalled. So, besides a duet from "The Elixir of Love," Pavarotti asked to pay homage to the beginning of his career with the "Cherry Duet" from "L'amico Fritz" by Mascagni, a charming comedy he had recorded at the beginning of his career, with Mirella Freni.

"He agreed to the Donizetti if we'd do the the Mascagni. So, in the middle of the mayhem of recording an entire opera, we spent a magical afternoon recording 'L’amico Fritz' and 'L’elisir.' It's a wonderful memory. But what I remember most is Luciano's total generosity about working with a younger colleague, his instant enthusiasm for the thing he loved better than anything in his life -- which was singing. For four hours we recorded the duets, and he was already in his sixties, but the voice sounded like sunshine," Mirageas says.

(Photo of Bartoli, Pavarotti and Mirageas, Viviane Purdom/Decca Records)

For Gus Miller, the proprietor of Batsakes Hat Shop downtown, the memory is just as personal. Pavarotti would buy hats from Miller, now 74, and the two struck up a friendship that lasted until the great tenor became ill.

What kind of hat did he favor?

"He wore a dress fedora, but he liked the colorful caps. The more color, he loved it," says Miller. "Anything real fancy, he loves it. Hopefully he's in a better place, but I guarantee he'll be more popular now than ever before."

For me, I reviewed Pavarotti's performance at Riverfront Coliseum in 1994, and again in Columbus in 1999, when he played the Value City Arena that drew 17,500 well-heeled fans. I interviewed him by phone the first time in 1994, and the tenor was a bit testy then -- he'd just lost 90 pounds, and all he wanted to do was talk about food! He told me how his most embarrassing moment was losing his pants at a supermarket because he'd lost so much weight. Finally, when he refused to talk opera and the conversation kept turning to food, I asked him for a recipe. "OK, Pasta con pesto," he said. "It's very simple."

That's how, slowly, dramatically and with a great deal of smacking of his lips, I came to get Luciano Pavarotti's recipe for Pasta con pesto.