They say that no man is an island, but Luciano Pavarotti was a continent. Cancer sang the last sad note in the funeral aria of this great, big man. Dead at 71, Pavarotti first stormed the world stage of opera at a rambunctious age, then elevated the global profile of his chosen milieu both by himself and in the company of such erstwhile rivals/compatriots as Domingo Carreras.
It was said of Pavarotti that at his height, he was relatively easy to pick out in a crowd as compared to other, shorter tenors. The notes he could hit and the sheer lengths to which he could hit them won justly-earned plaudits from fans and aficionados alike.
While he was noted for his vocal timbre, he had an astonishing appetite for musical excellence that kept him plowing his trade far into the night on many an occasion. Though some critics aver that he was occasionally prone to "show his ass" (metaphorically speaking), none would now blemish his memory with mentionings of such unseemly taint.
He passes now, from this world of mist and greasepaint, a towering giant in the hallowed annals of song, a performer with few peers and fewer still who knew the true hue of his tortured artist's soul.
He was 6'2".
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