Reinout Bosman
We had to wait more than 2 years for it and once it went into cinemas, the United States and England were chosen over his own country. And when practically half the world was already shouting how great he was and how impressive the composition of images, we in Italy finally got the chance to see him: the documentary Pavarotti from Ron Howard.
3 chances to be exact: October 28, 29 and 30, 2019 were the dates chosen by Decca and the Fondazione to see him. And when the cinema halls finally became known, I saw my chance and immediately bought a ticket, because I obviously do not miss a chance to see the unique images about his life, learn from his technique and immerse myself in the opera of that time. pass me by.
On Monday, October 28, I went to the premiere of the Pavarotti documentary at the Odéon in Florence.
What a life
The hall light goes out and Pavarotti appears on the screen. The pianist plays the intro to In Vucchella and then he opens his mouth and the cinema is filled with his full, warm voice. Behind me a lady puts a hand over her mouth and softly mumbles 'Dio Santo', and I have goosebumps on my arms. That is promising. We start in Brazil where he is an unknown tenor in a local theater where Enrico Caruso had sung years earlier.
He sings there A Vuchella and people are pouring in slowly to watch that unknown Italian tenor. A beaming, broad-smiling Pavarotti looks at his audience and as a spectator you see that he 'turns on'. The audience really was his everything; Being there for the people he loves was the common thread running through the documentary.
At a certain point, images are shown of an interview in which he is asked whether he still has faith in the people. His answer is typical: 'I could end my life if I didn't trust people anymore. We need humanity and everyone deserves equal opportunities.'
What touched me personally were the contrasts in the documentary. His life in front of the screens, marked by the great success, managers who protect him and made him very big, the switch to the Pavarotti and Friends concerts, the Italian housekeeper convince Bono to participate in the first edition and to write a song, and the immense success of the Three Tenors.
One scene that particularly touched me was when they ended the concert in Caracalla and Mehta, Domingo, Carreras and Pavarotti hugged and looked at each other with a look of 'We did this. We did it!'
Pavarotti behind the scenes
Life behind the scenes was a little less rosy. He's had multiple affairs, left his first wife Adua in Italy while traveling the world and wasn't always there for his kids.
Until one of his daughters becomes seriously ill and he decides to go back to Italy to be there for her and his family. It was front page news at the time. The image Pavarotti had created was one of a very good Catholic who was the ideal son-in-law, husband and father; however, the curtain fell on that reality and Pavarotti faced difficult years.
When he then also falls in love with Nicoletta Mantovani, 36 years younger, with whom he has a child, while he becomes a grandfather in the same month, it is a bit too much for many Italians. Where's their Pavarotti gone?
True to his heart
What I find very special is that Pavarotti has remained true to his heart despite all the criticism and negative messages. He wanted to let his light shine, and the heavier the storms grew, the more he did to support humanity.
He hurriedly left for Bosnia-Herzegovina to offer support to the children and their parents in the genocide and opened a music school there to let children experience the feeling of connection and resilience again.
A life marked by immense success, all the recognition of the world and a great deal of loneliness. It reminds me of what my Master Angelo always tells me: 'If you choose this profession, know that you will have to deal with great loneliness. The life of a tenor is special and you have to be of good quality to reach the top. And at that top it is dead quiet, you spend a lot of time alone and you will have to miss a lot of people.'
Last aria
And that's what you saw in Pavarotti. His last time Tosca in the New York Metropolitan was through marrow and bone. In Tosca all the players die and while he is playing his last aria, E Lucevan Le Stelle, was singing, he already knew he wouldn't have very long.
And because he lived through all those years, he was simply the driving force of the music. He was the music and every note related to his own life.
It's nice that that comes to the fore at the end of the documentary. And that, after a lifetime of hard work, he dares to recognize that it made sense. That he made many sacrifices, hurt people, but that his mission with his life was bigger than all the small steps.
Pavarotti was there for more than 10 million people who have seen him live and for all the other billions who have followed him.
Pieta Signore
He hoped to be a good father and husband. You can see that he says that with pain, because that may not have been completely successful. But Pavarotti is Pavarotti and, illustratively… at the end of the documentary when his coffin is carried from Modena Cathedral and the Frecce Tricolori flying over, this time we don't hear Nessun Dormabut Pieta Signore... God have mercy.
You can still see the documentary Pavarotti in the cinema.
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