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Throughout the history of music, those who have loved the human voice have ever longed for the arrival of a singer who personifies that glorious Italianate sound that awakens indescribable joy while breaking your heart. It's the sound. My love of Bjoerling always prompted me to say that he taught the angels how to sing. It was that sound that could express the deepest passion and the brightest joy whether singing a great aria or merely a laundry list. It's the sound that, like Cupid's arrow, pierces your heart and produces feelings you rarely if ever experienced before. Few singers in history have been able to produce that magical sound. And when Pavarotti was in his prime, he gave us that incredible, indescribable sound, and thus we experienced the music as never before.
I don't care about the frivolous foolishness, or the commercial forays, or the disappointing moments. What matters is that in our lifetime we were blessed with a singer who gave us that glorious sound, and with his special gift lifted the music he sang to new heights. Pavarotti was a unique artist who gave us the gift of something we will not likely experience again in our lifetime. We were blessed because he sang. And that is all that matters.
