Editorial

Ritorna Vincitor marks one of the great dramatic moments of Verdi's wonderful Aida. Sung by Pharaoh, Amneris, Aida and the entire chorus to an orchestral score that blazes with brassy splendour, it surrounds a triumphant Radames like an aureole.

For many opera lovers, this conjures up an indelible picture of Luciano Pavarotti in one of his most celebrated roles. No one who was lucky enough to see Aida at the La Scala apertura about 15 years ago will ever forget the sheer opulence of it and how the tenor's performance that night thrilled the audience into sheer ecstasy.

Luciano Pavarotti has left. Not to do battle with the Ethiopians but to join the heavenly hosts singing Miserere before the Lord's throne. The greatest tenor since Enrico Caruso deserves no less.

Luciano Pavarotti, who brought opera to the common people in 1990 World Cup with his inimitable Nessun Dorma, died aged 71 after a year-long battle with pancreatic cancer. Like Maria Callas, Luciano Pavarotti was a living legend. The King of the High Cs, he transformed anything he sang into a thing of breathtaking beauty and electrifying drama.

One forgot how large and ungainly he was and how his looks were nothing to write home about because his extraordinarily beautiful and versatile voice transformed him into a veritable Apollo; the greatest lover since Valentino, the dissipated but passionate Duke in Rigoletto. He was anything he chose to be.

Luciano Pavarotti's death marks the end of five decades of magical interpretations ranging from popular Neapolitan songs and the haunting Ti Voglio Bene Assai to the pyrotechnical tenor arias of Rigoletto and the molten lyricism of La Boheme.

It is difficult to imagine that in 1961, when Luciano Pavarotti made his debut as Rodolfo in Reggio Emilia, he was slim and handsome. He had been, besides an accomplished rider and lover of horses, also a superb footballer who had seriously thought of taking the sport up professionally. This is possibly why Luciano Pavarotti never lost his "common touch" and was able to appeal to people who had never listened to opera before.

His generosity when organising charity mega concerts with popular stars like Eric Clapton, Elton John, Bruce Springsteen and Bono, set a trend that has been emulated by many. The famous Three Tenors Concert in Caracalla in 1990 showed the world that mega concerts were not the prerogative of the Rolling Stones.

Always a controversial figure, the man was also known for his foibles and eccentricities. When he replaced the famous Velasquez-like white handkerchief with a huge jamawhal shawl during a concert version of Otello at the Met, it made world news!

Like Maria Callas, his life in all its aspects was one that paparazzi could not get enough of. He was opera's living superstar. His eating habits, like Maria Callas's, were subject to speculation as was his marital breakup and notorious hypochondria that forced him into unreliability and problems with opera houses as cancellations grew more frequent.

This, however, is not why Luciano Pavarotti will be mourned by people from all walks of life from all over the world. His life will be celebrated, again and again, through the music to which he gave a new lease of life. His great recordings will, like Maria Callas's, live on and forever be a benchmark for excellence and beauty. This strange phenomenon that we call opera, a genre that combines literature, poetry, drama, painting, design and architecture with the most sophisticated of all the arts, music, has indeed lost its most celebrated son.