In 1992, a popular Italian rock opera star named Zucchero wanted Luciano Pavarotti to duet with him on a song (“Miserere”) for his new album. When Pavarotti heard some of the demos of other potential opera singers being considered–he happened to hear one from a relatively unknown tenor named Andrea Bocelli who also just so happened to be primarily blind. That was the moment Pavarotti admitted to Zucchero (but never publicly) that Bocelli’s voice was so phenomenal that it was exponentially better than Luciano’s own (at least at that stage in Pavarotti’s career). And so began the gradual ascent of Andrea Bocelli’s career–with additional financial and career support from Pavarotti once the two met. They also became close friends with the two eventually becoming equals at #1 in the opera world. No, there were never any reported Italian-tempered fights as to who was actually 1 or 2 within that tie of greatness.
It was fairly clear that Pavarotti had found the singer who would take his torch either after retirement or death. Now with the death of Pavarotti on September 6 from pancreatic cancer–Bocelli probably realizes this week (as he sings at his mentor’s funeral today in Modena, Italy) that the symbolic torch will be passed to him to be considered the greatest in the world from now until his retirement or death. That designation is almost inarguable if you’ve heard the quality of his voice on his CD’s or on TV any time recently. His voice may be at its peak at the time of this writing–despite taking a while previously to get to that level. The greatest quality is his effortlessness in being able to sing big notes and create a sonorous sense of vocal tone that most other opera singers have to strain to manage perfectly. Even more in this torch passing is that Bocelli doesn’t really fit the mold of the opera singer we typically see. He started out studying law–then singing in piano bars throughout Italy when in his early 20’s rather than attending a prestigious music school. He also hasn’t performed in many elaborate opera productions (despite doing a few full opera productions in album form toward the beginning of his career)–and mostly banked on albums that delved close to that sub music genre some people equivocate to anathema: Popera.
Bocelli may have started the trend of making opera truly commercial and caused the music industry to invent that perplexing “Popera” genre. His albums consisted of individual arias (along with new arias written with pop rhythms) that were meant to chart on the pop charts. That trend only happened in Europe for a while until America finally started creating other charts on Billboard to fit in all the blossoming musical subgenres that made CD bins in stores confusing and overwhelming. Once his world famous duet with Sarah Brightman on “Time to Say Goodbye (Con Te Partiro)” released in the mid 1990’s–America finally took notice of his potential as a Pavarotti equal and what he could do to make opera more appealing to people who ordinarily didn’t listen to it out of fear of not understanding the language. The subliminal songwriting secret of the Popera material would be to give it a one-word Italian title (to think you were hearing a legitimate Italian aria that hadn’t been heard before)–but with lyrics that had English equivalents of an overly sappy or simple tale of love.
Bocelli’s advantages: His blindness as a method of deeper artistic concentration-and a seemingly better health regimen…
I’ve always been fascinated with blind artists and their methods tapping into another wellspring of their minds to extract greatness in their performances. You see it in pianists (particularly) and other blind musicians all over the world. When you watch Andrea Bocelli perform–you can see him going inward to another place as he sings. It’s the ultimate concentration of vocal control and (assumedly) going into the creative subconscious to create a more profound sense of expression. That must be the secret to the blind being able to channel superior artistry when performing on a stage. When you can close out the visual world–it enables you to concentrate more and find the true magic of performance perfection every performer strives to create.
As awesome as Pavarotti always was in his vocal power and expression–he was known to lose his concentration at very rare times. When his voice cracked once during one of his performances in Italy…tomato-throwing almost became as traditional as the booing Italians aren’t afraid to do when an opera singer screws up in the opera houses there. Pavarotti obviously emerged unscathed–but he probably enviously wished he had the complete relaxation and seemingly effortless ability of Bocelli’s singing. I’ve never heard Bocelli’s voice ever crack once. Every single one of his performances have been master classes in deep concentration and making every note near-perfection.
It also seems that Bocelli takes care of his weight and doesn’t let the temptations of success overtake his mind to the point of a health breakdown. When Pavarotti was interviewed last year–he poignantly admitted for the first time that all the wild success he had over the decades tempted him to clean every plate in sight and every other excess life can offer when the world’s at your feet. “Now I’m paying for that,” he said with the possible realization that reversing it was too late.
Barring any other unforeseen circumstances–Andrea Bocelli should be able to sing longer than Pavarotti was able to do thanks to what appears to be a healthy diet and maybe having the advantage of not physically seeing the excesses life can bring when a superstar.
And let that last thought connect with the commercialization of opera and where Bocelli will take it…
More than enough people complained about the overt commercialization and expansive pay scales of the Three Tenors when they held their triumvirate concerts during the 90’s and early 2000’s. Pavarotti, Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo were certainly out to make as much money as possible when they performed together. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, really. People just weren’t used to seeing it done in such a blatant way as the Tenors pretty much expressed in press conferences at the time.
In Bocelli’s case–he lets the commercialization become a natural progression without even mentioning it exists. That’s a brilliant psychological approach so it doesn’t become offensive to those who oppose it. Most people don’t even bat an eye now when having to lay out $500 (or usually much, much more) for top seats at his concerts. Most people have also swept it under the rug that he’s managed to take his own version of opera to another successful mainstream place that the traditional opera world still bristles at whenever it’s mentioned. For some people, Bocelli’s version of opera IS opera–and may end up being what a new generation will be brought up on rather than checking out the great opera productions that Bocelli will probably never have to do in his career. He’ll have to find some way to encourage uninitiated people to still check out the great opera productions to broaden their horizons.
He’s also able to duet successfully with pop stars without it looking awkward. Pavarotti broke huge barriers doing his “Pavarotti and Friends” charity concerts annually where he finally got around to reserving that spot to sing with the Spice Girls on one show a couple of years ago. While obviously not a perfect match vocally–it was still magical just to watch in artists so disparate creating a workable performance.
Perhaps it’s because Bocelli is younger–but his stage presence when singing a duet with younger pop stars gives some awesome and palpable chemistry on the stage. When he teamed up with the gorgeous “American Idol” runner-up, Katharine McPhee, in the summer of 2006 for a series of brief California concerts (and recording a duet of “Can’t Help Falling in Love”)–their on-stage interplay was a smoldering intimacy you don’t see often in live performances. Bocelli admired (and presumably still admires) her voice–and vice versa. That close bond mattered a lot in their performances. I’m hoping they’ll team up again for something soon once Katharine gets out of her “Gotta conquer Top 40 and movies” phase.
A high-quality “Nessun Dorma” will survive…
Pavarotti’s take on Puccini’s “Nessun Dorma” (from “Turandot”) turned into one of the greatest opera performances ever attempted. It was apropos that he performed it again at the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics in Torino, Italy in February of 2006. It turned out to be his last performance on worldwide television. At the time, I had a bad feeling that it could be at least one of his last based on his obvious health problems.
For those who still wish they could hear Pavarotti sing a live version of the aria–Bocelli also took the song under his wing and sang it a number of times in concerts. His was slightly different (more controlled as always)–yet the final line we all remember from Pavarotti that brought people to their feet is still there from Bocelli’s voice box.
Now that Bocelli will undoubtedly want to continue Pavarotti’s legacy as much as possible–hearing Bocelli sing “Nessun Dorma” again on occasion might be described easily with the final words in the aria. Even Pavarotti would probably want to shout from the audience the triple repeat of that final word…
“Vincero! Vincero! Vincero!”
(“I will win!” x 3)
