Recalling Pavarotti: The good and bad

Luciano Pavarotti's association with the Lyric Opera of Chicago began with a production that brought tears to the eyes of thrilled audience members. It ended 16 years later with an announcement his services were no longer welcome.

The tenor appeared in Chicago sometimes as a king of Sweden, sometimes as a Renaissance duke, an Egyptian warrior or a lovesick peasant -- but always as a larger-than-life, golden-throated fan favorite.

His former associates in Chicago remembered Pavarotti Thursday as a gifted but erratic man who loved his audiences.

"This is terribly sad, even though it was not unexpected," Lyric general manager William Mason said of Pavarotti's death from pancreatic cancer at age 71.

"He had a unique instrument," Mason said. "And even though all great performers appreciate the love of their fans, he always gave back as good as he got."

Mason, 65, already was associated with Lyric when its first general manager, the late Carol Fox, hired Pavarotti for his Chicago debut as Rodolfo in a 1973 production of "La Boheme" opposite Romanian soprano Ileana Cotrubas.

"Luciano liked to use Rodolfo as his debut role in a new city," Mason said. "It gave him a chance to show the audience what he could do, both vocally and emotionally."

On that night, Pavarotti did plenty, and so did Cotrubas. After the final curtain, a U.S. senator who was seated in one of the front rows was seen crying unashamedly -- and he was hardly the only weeper.

There were tears of a different kind in 1989, when Fox's successor, the late Ardis Krainik, publicly fired Pavarotti after he canceled out of that year's opening night performance of 'Tosca,' calling it "a business decision."

"It was an unhappy situation," Mason said. "Pavarotti had canceled out of 26 of 41 performances here over the preceding 10 years, including 1987's opening night 'Il Trovatore.' That one was particularly troubling for us because he had done a concert here only three or four weeks earlier. If he was having voice problems, we felt he should have canceled the concert -- not opening night."

"Ardis did what she did because she had to restore public confidence in the company," Mason said. "There were even unfair rumors that we were pulling some sort of bait-and-switch -- promising Pavarotti and then delivering someone else. She never did enjoy doing it."

But by defying the most popular -- and capricious -- opera star of his generation, Krainik gained favorable publicity for Lyric and drew sympathy from other opera managers, many of whom also had to deal with Pavarotti's increasingly common cancellations.

Despite the cancellations and the 1989 flap, Mason said he hoped Chicago fans would instead remember Pavarotti's 56 performances in seven roles at Lyric -- plus the eight concerts he sang from the Lyric stage.

And Mason chuckled as he remembered the problems with costuming the sometimes gargantuan tenor, particularly the nightgown-like caftan he wore in a 1983 production of "Aida."

"It was the only thing vaguely Egyptian they could fit him into," Mason said. "He was always impossible to costume. But then again, suspension of disbelief is a necessary part of opera, and once the audience heard that voice, they forgot what he looked like.

"There were any number of great 20th century singers, but the public will remember mostly just three: Caruso, Callas and Pavarotti."