LA MUERTE DE LUCIANO PAVAROTTI
By Juan Diego Flórez, 6 September 2007
La muerte de Luciano Pavarotti me ha llenado de profunda tristeza. Recibí la noticia de su asistente, mi compatriota Edwin Tinoco, pocos minutos después de que ocurriera. Nos habiamos visto el 31 de Julio en su casa de Pésaro, fue la última vez que se levantó para cenar con sus invitados. Pese al malestar de la enfermedad, hizo todo lo posible por ser conversador y amable, aunque el casi no comió. Le habíamos preguntado a Edwin qué regalo le podíamos llevar, y nos contesto: "una cremolada de limón y fresa que le encantan". Pocos días después Pavarotti regresó a Modena para ser hospitalizado. Lo llamé y me dijo que fuera a visitarlo con mi esposa, que le hacía mucha ilusión; le dije que lo haría pero desgraciadamente el Maestro nos dejó antes de lo que pensaba.
Luciano Pavarotti fue desde siempre mi ídolo y cuando me señaló practicamente como su sucesor recibí la noticia con sorpresa, alegría y orgullo, pero también como una grande responsabilidad, responsabilidad que hoy me es mayor y espero poder estar a la altura.
Lo conocí en el verano del 2002 en su casa de Pesaro. Fue para mí un día inolvidable. Mientras conversabamos mi agente, Ernesto Palacio, me susurraba: "por qué no le cantas algo?" El maestro se dio cuenta y dijo: "Quieres cantar algo?" Asi que sin calentar la voz le canté el aria de los 9 dos de la Hija del Regimiento.
Una vez me llamó para decirme que me había elegido para cantar en un homenaje que le iban a hacer en NY con motivo de sus ultimas presentaciones operísticas en el Met. Me dijo: "yo les he dicho que solo quiero que me cante Juan Diego Florez". Esto me hinchó el pecho y naturalmente canté para él en esa celebración que se realizó en New York en el 2004.
La voz mas bella del siglo XX nos deja, un artista entrañable se ha ido, si bien quedarà para siempre como un gigante de la lírica, y para quienes lo hemos conocido personalmente y apreciado su espontaneidad, su franqueza, su modo sabio pero simple de ver las cosas, su amabilidad, generosidad y disponibilidad; su ausencia serà muy difìcil de colmar.
English Translation
The death of Luciano Pavarotti has filled me with deep sadnesss. I received the news from his assistant, my compatriot, Edwin Tinoco, a few minutes after it happened. We last saw each other on July 31st, at his house in Pesaro. It was the last time Pavarotti got out of bed to have dinner with his guests. In spite of the suffering caused by his illness, he did his utmost to chat kindly with us, although he barely ate himself. We had asked Edwin what gift we could take to him, and he told us: "he loves lemon and strawberry cremolata". A few days later Pavarotti returned to Modena to go into hospital. I called him and he said to please come visit him again with my wife. I told him we would, but unfortunately the Maestro left us sooner than we thought.
Luciano Pavarotti has always been my idol, and when in a newspaper in a certain way he singled me out as his successor, I received the news with surprise, joy, and pride, but with a great sense of responsibility as well. Which today is even greater, and I hope that I can rise to it.
I first got to know him in the summer of 2002 at his house in Pesaro. It was an unforgettable day for me. While we were talking, my agent, Ernesto Palacio, whispered to me: "Why don't you sing something for him?" The Maestro noticed and said: "Would you like to sing something?" So without even warming up my voice I sang the aria with the 9 high C´s from La Fille du Régiment.
Once he phoned to tell me that he had chosen me to sing at a tribute to him at a gala during his last opera performances at the Met in 2004. He told me: "I told them that I only want Juan Diego Florez to sing for me". I was bursting with pride, and naturally I sang for him in that celebration in New York.
The most beautiful voice of the 20th century has left us, an endearing artist. Even though he will be always acknowledged as a giant in the opera world, for those of us who knew him personally and treasured his spontaneity, his honesty, his simple but wise way of looking at things, his kindness, generosity and helpfulness, his absence will be very hard to fill.
(Translated by Jean Peccei)
This page was last edited on: September 7, 2007
