North Shore audience to judge Pavarotti's farewell first-hand

If there is one thing more harrowing to contemplate than the death of Arthur Miller's salesman, it could well be the retirement of the opera diva or divo.

Not all, like Nellie Melba, prolong a farewell tour over four years. Some do it efficiently and gracefully. Joan Sutherland's final Les Huguenots with the Australian Opera in 1990 at 64 would have been impressive for a singer half her age.

Not so Luciano Pavarotti, whose final Tosca appearances at New York's Met were less than distinguished.

Mind you, if Peter Davis of New York magazine is to be believed, the whole production was "a muted affair".

Davis spreads the blame, lambasting Carol Vaness' wobbly soprano, Samuel Ramey's voice caving in at one point, and smaller roles delegated to hardy septuagenarians.

His description of Pavarotti as "the great one gingerly making his way across stage to find a comfortable seat where liquid refreshment always seemed readily at hand, even in prison" was more poignant than scathing. Surely a concert farewell would have been better, was Davis' final suggestion.

Perhaps the tenor took heed, as Pavarotti is now wending his way across the world to sing his goodbyes from Perth to Beijing, with Auckland's North Shore Stadium lined up for Saturday night.

It is too easy to forget the vitality and artistry of the young Pavarotti.

His life is the stuff of legends, from the moment he debuted as Rodolfo in the small opera house at the north Italian town of Reggio Emilia. By 1972 he was the toast of New York, starring in Donizetti's Daughter of the Regiment. His seven top Cs and 17 curtain-calls were destined for the Guinness Book of Records.

By the 80s, Pavarotti was anxious for a wider audience. In 1982 he starred in the movie Yes Giorgio, for which he was willing to croon a John Williams ballad and be involved in a preposterous plot of a voice-stressed tenor falling in love with his throat specialist.

The cast around him was resolutely D grade and, says Pavarotti's manager, Herbert Breslin, in his often scurrilous book The King & I, actor Kate Jackson pulled out at the last minute when friend Cher warned her about movies where you can't get your arms around the romantic lead.

Images of food often crop up with Pavarotti, who has become as massive of girth as he once was talented. The review of one disaster was headed: "Takeaway Tenor - Peter Conrad watches Pavarotti munch through Otello". Conrad said the often-seated Pavarotti ate and drank during the performance to "keep his throat open".

The tenor continued to pursue fame on every level. He took Puccini's Nessun dorma to the football stadium, has shared the stage with boybands - and worse - in the cause of charity. And then there was the egregious Three Tenors, responsible for one of the most unintentionally hilarious Christmas records ever produced.

Reports from the touring front in Australia have been mixed. The tenor sits for a good deal of the concert, sheltering in the curve of the grand piano.

The formula for New Zealand will be the same, with the programme divided between ballads-with-piano and operatic items with orchestra (the Auckland Philharmonia on Saturday).

There are reports of sneezing during arias, strain in the top register and, when Nessun dorma was omitted from one performance, consternation on talkback radio.

But change paper and critic, and you will read that the man can still access top Cs when needed, doesn't hide behind easy pieces, and comes up with vintage Pavarotti in Recondita armonia - "fluid, sweet, glowing, a thrill to hear".

In his autobiography Pavarotti reflected on the irony of fame, how it is "so slow to arrive that by the time the artist becomes widely known, he or she is no longer good, or as good as they were".

On Saturday night Aucklanders will be able to decide for themselves.

Who: Luciano Pavarotti
Where and when: North Shore Stadium, Saturday 8.30pm