Italian tenor Pavarotti known for sense of humor

ROME — Luciano Pavarotti, whose vibrant high C’s and ebullient showmanship made him one of the world’s most beloved tenors, died today, his manager told The Associated Press. He was 71.

His manager, Terri Robson, told the AP in an e-mailed statement that Pavarotti died at his home in Modena, Italy, at 5 a.m. local time. Pavarotti had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last year and underwent further treatment in August.

“The Maestro fought a long, tough battle against the pancreatic cancer which eventually took his life. In fitting with the approach that characterized his life and work, he remained positive until finally succumbing to the last stages of his illness,” the statement said.

For serious fans, the unforced beauty and thrilling urgency of Pavarotti’s voice made him the ideal interpreter of the Italian lyric repertory, especially in the 1960s and ‘70s when he first achieved stardom. For millions more, his charismatic performances of standards like Nessun dorma from Puccini’s Turandot came to represent what opera is all about.

Instantly recognizable from his charcoal black beard and tuxedo-busting girth, Pavarotti radiated an intangible magic that helped him win hearts in a way Plácido Domingo and José Carreras — his partners in the Three Tenors concerts — never quite could.

“I always admired the God-given glory of his voice — that unmistakable special timbre from the bottom up to the very top of the tenor range,” Domingo said in a statement from Los Angeles.

“I also loved his wonderful sense of humor and on several occasions of our concerts with José Carreras — the so-called Three Tenors concerts — we had trouble remembering that we were giving a concert before a paying audience, because we had so much fun between ourselves,” he said.

The tenor, who seemed equally at ease singing with soprano Joan Sutherland as with the Spice Girls, scoffed at accusations he was sacrificing his art in favor of commercialism.

“The word commercial is exactly what we want,” he said, after appearing in the widely publicized Three Tenors concerts. “We’ve reached 1.5 billion people with opera. If you want to use the word commercial, or something more derogatory, we don’t care. Use whatever you want.”

In the annals of that rare and coddled breed, the operatic tenor, it may well be said the 20th century began with Enrico Caruso and ended with Pavarotti. Other tenors — Domingo included — may have drawn more praise from critics for their artistic range and insights, but none could equal the combination of natural talent and personal charm that so endeared him to audiences.

“Pavarotti is the biggest superstar of all,” the late New York Times music critic Harold Schonberg once said. “He’s correspondingly more spoiled than anybody else. They think they can get away with anything. Thanks to the glory of his voice, he probably can.”

In his heyday, he was known as the “King of the High C’s” for the ease with which he tossed off difficult top notes. In fact, it was his ability to hit nine glorious high C’s in quick succession that first turned him into an international superstar singing Tonio’s aria Ah! Mes amis, in Donizetti’s La Fille du Regiment at New York’s Metropolitan Opera in 1972.

In the 1990s, Pavarotti’s teaming with Domingo and Carreras became a music business phenomenon and spawned copycats such as the Three Irish Tenors.

In September 2001, Pavarotti made his only appearance in New Mexico, appearing before some 9,000 people at The Pit in Albuquerque. He was joined by soprano Carmela Remigio and conductor Leone Magiera leading the New Mexico Symphony Orchestra.

Pavarotti emerged onstage to a standing ovation and announced his performance would be dedicated to the victims of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks in New York. “It will be difficult, but we are entertainers,” Pavarotti said, gaining more applause.

Pavarotti starred in a film called Yes, Giorgio (though its failure scuttled his hopes for a Hollywood career) and appeared in a filmed version of Rigoletto. He wrote an autobiography, I, Luciano Pavarotti, and made more than 90 recordings.

From Beijing to Buenos Aires, people immediately recognized his incandescent smile and lumbering bulk, clutching a white handkerchief as he sang arias and Neapolitan folk songs, pop numbers and Christmas carols for hundreds of thousands in outdoor concerts.

Pavarotti had three daughters with his first wife, Lorenza, Cristina and Giuliana; and one, Alice, with his second wife.