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The consensus of his colleagues is that he has paced himself well. Says Eugene Kohn, a former accompanist and coach of Pavarotti's: "There was fear that he would lose the bloom of sound and the top notes. But if the repertoire stays too light, you don't give the voice free rein. I recently heard him in Luisa Miller in London, and ins voice was fantastically enriched for having sung heavier parts." Pavarotti is preparing the formidable role of Radames in Aida for San Francisco in 1981. Lohengrin may even be down the road some day. "I continue to take risks," he says. "I could spend the rest of my career singing Rodolfo, but it's not in my nature."
For years Pavarotti has kept up a murderous schedule. He thrives on the love and adulation that pour over the footlights in waves. Doubtless, too, as one colleague observes, "greed is an element in it." But in 1975, the plane in which Pavarotti was returning from the U.S. crashed during its landing at the Milan airport and broke in two. Pavarotti and the rest of the passengers were, as he saw it, miraculously spared. Whether as a result of the crash or not, Pavarotti seems to have made some kind of peace with mortality.
His friend Terry McEwen, a top executive of London Records and general director-designate of the San Francisco Opera, senses a new maturity and security: "He knows the public loves him for himself, not only for his voice. If he lost his voice tomorrow, they would still love him. He could go on performing, he could be a different kind of star." That is a mind-boggling thought for the operatic mind. Could Pavarotti's ultimate destiny be to replace Johnny Carson?
The question need not be faced for years. Says Joan Ingpen, artistic administration director of the Metropolitan: "I will bet that he will still be singing in his 50s and 60s." And, she might add, still kissing girls and eating pasta and giving tennis opponents the toilet paper. He may not shift out of high gear, but he obviously intends to go for distance. "A voice gives you a certain mileage, like a car," says San Francisco's Adler. "If you are a good driver, it can go for 100,000 miles." Clearly, Pavarotti is a good driver. ยท