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How much did he weigh before? "More than now." Hence reports of his fluctuations spread through the opera world like a runaway Dow Jones average: up 25, down 80, up 60. But he realizes that if he remains too heavy he could undermine his robust health. Which is why he periodically submits to the dread ordeal of a diet. He is currently forbidden to drink wine, and his most opulent meal is zuchini, rice and 250 grams (about half a pound) of meat or fish cooked with a few drops of oil. More tragic than any scene he plays onstage is the sight of a dieting Pavarotti at a dinner party, surrounded by gorging guests as he disconsolately sips soda water or diet cola.
Such moments of depression are rare, but they are an occupational hazard. Feasting or dieting, fussed over or not, a barnstorming opera singer spends long hours of isolation in hotels, studying, resting (Pavarotti sleeps ten to twelve hours before a performance) or simply killing time. Pavarotti's wife Adua joins him on tour for a few weeks each year, and friends consider her spirited, sensible ministrations a tremendous boost for him. Says one of them: "At least she doesn't stand in the wings with holy water like the wives of some Italian tenors." But Pavarotti manages only a handful of flying visits home to Modena. He misses family life. He is perplexed by his remoteness from his fast growing daughters—Lorenza, 17, Christina, 15, and Giuliana, 12—and he tends to worry about them and to compensate with strictness when he is there.
His attachment to north-central Italy is deep. On his sacrosanct summer holiday, he invariably returns to his vacation house in Pesaro, 150 km from Modena (see box). He cherishes a sense of himself as a sound, simple man of the region: he keeps up ties with relatives and friends there, and he concentrated investments from his considerable income (probably close to $1 million a year) in the area. Among his holdings: a record store in Bologna and an office building near Modena.
It was in Modena (pop. 180,000), an industrial city noted for its hardworking, stubborn citizenry, its good food and its dedication to opera, that Pavarotti was born nearly 44 years ago. He remembers himself as a lively, gossipy scamp, always in trouble. At school his energies went into sports; soccer became a passion. At home he chimed in with the likes of Gigli, Tito Scinpa, Bjoerling and Di Stefano on the records collected by his father, a baker and gifted amateur tenor. He recalls: "In my teens I used to go to Mario Lanza movies and then come home and imitate him in front of the mirror."