The following is a guest post written by someone I care deeply about.
As I have to admit that I am moved by Pavarotti’s death even though I am a die hard Domingo fan I was recalling a conversation that I had with my friends from NYU one night ten years ago. Why is it that we truly mourn and remember musicians and composers, but that Donald Trump and Bill Gates will be forgotten no matter what. Why do we know Pasteur’s and Mme Curie’s names, but we still don’t have the same emotional connotation that we feel when we talk about Mozart, Pavarotti or Jimmy Hendrix? And I think along the same lines about Lincoln and Robert E. Lee. Yes, people are fascinated with them and some pretend they are very special to them, but maybe, in all honesty, more so because they want to drive home a point about their political ideology rather than that they become teary eyed because of a special personalized memory of these historic figures. But today and in the future people will walk up to Pavarotti’s house and cry because they remember his music. I do think that there is no greater way to touch human kind than with music and I may extend that to all of the arts. But let me stay with music: people have a song or piece that reminds them of a phase in their life and people in love share music as a tribute to their relationship. And who doesn’t know the amazing feeling when music reaches your innermost feelings and stays there like a wave of beauty. I think only being in love tops this rush of joy. So, today I hear Pavarotti’s voice and I still get those tingles down my spine and I will every time I hear it again. This sensation won’t fade. He like so many other musicians has become immortal and I was the happy witness.
I think a life in music is a life well spent and this is what I have my life devoted to. Penso che una vita per la musica sia una vita spesa bene ed e a questo che mi sono dedicato . (Pavarotti)