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09-06-2007, 02:41 AM
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#1
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He...Who Drops Knowledge
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Luciano Pavarotti, R.I.P.
__________________
" We can no longer sit back and allow Satchmo infiltration, Satchmo indoctrination, Satchmo subversion and the international Satchmo conspiracy to sap and impurify all of our precious bodily fluids."
I am Satchmo and I approve this message.
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[offline]
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09-06-2007, 02:54 AM
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#2
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forumkiller
Join Date: Oct 2003
Location: GA, USA
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R.i.p. 
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"Give us something new, indeed for Heaven’s sake give us rather the bad, and let us feel we are still alive, instead of constantly going around in deedless admiration for the conventional" ~ Carl Nielsen
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09-06-2007, 08:35 AM
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#3
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A Dying Breed
Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: Where no one will find me.
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Mr Pavarotti was huge here in Korea. Coming home tonight a popular talk radio show had a complete feature on him, playing performances by the man in between talks and tributes.
Be well, Mr Pavarotti.
__________________
Down with Lee Myung-bak
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09-06-2007, 12:52 PM
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#4
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Shoes for the Dead
Join Date: Oct 2003
Location: Los Angeles
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R. I. P.
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To the everlasting glory of those few men blessed and sanctified in the curses and execrations of those many whose praise is eternal damnation
-Kaikhosru Sorabji
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09-06-2007, 01:43 PM
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#5
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Registered User
Join Date: May 2006
Location: WV
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R.I.P. will be missed
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[offline]
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09-06-2007, 06:48 PM
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#6
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2+2=5
Join Date: May 2007
Location: Mexico
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A letter from Bono
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“Some can sing opera, Luciano Pavarotti was an opera.
No one could inhabit those acrobatic melodies and words like him. He lived the songs, his opera was a great mash of joy and sadness; surreal and earthy at the same time; a great volcano of a man who sang fire but spilled over with a love of life in all its complexity, a great and generous friend.
Great, great fun, The Pavlova we used to call him. An emotional arm twister if he wanted you to do something for him he was impossible to turn down. A great flatterer.
When he wanted U2 to write him a song he rang our housekeeper, Theresa, continually so we talked about little else in our house.
When he wanted U2 to play his festival in Modena, he turned up in Dublin unannounced with a film crew, and door-stopped the band. His life and talent was large but his sense of service to the weak and vulnerable was larger.
We wrote Miss Sarajevo for him. He had worked on the humanitarian crisis that was the war in Bosnia. We travelled together on a UN air force flight to Mostar... all of us earnest in hard hats, just about strapped into this industrial aircraft with the big man handing out parmigiano from Reggio Emilia, “the best cheese in the world" he kept saying… deadpan… to make us laugh.
In Pesaro, in his summer house, he lived an almost bohemian life with a recording studio set up in an out house - but did all his vocals in his bedroom... there was a hammock hung between two marine pines for a siesta. He liked to eat, sleep and then warm up his vocals though I remember more eating than warming up. When we first recorded with him I left a stone heavier than I arrived.
Intellectually curious, couldn’t stick to his own generation - loved new ideas, new people, new song forms.
A sexy man whose life lit up again when he fell in love with Nicoletta and as he watched Alice play in the yard. He loved all his daughters so much.
The sadness of losing his only boy his only silence.
I spoke to him last week... the voice that was louder than any rock band was a whisper. Still he communicated his love. Full of love.
That's what people don't understand about Luciano Pavarotti. Even when the voice was dimmed in power, his interpretive skills left him a giant among a few tall men.�
Bono
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__________________
"I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive." - Henry Miller
"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face— forever." - George Orwell
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09-06-2007, 06:51 PM
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#7
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What's happening, brother
Join Date: May 2005
Location: Dream Country
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R.I.P. 
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"I used to work in a factory, and I liked it there because I could daydream all day." - Ian Curtis
"He has become obsessed with blocks of sound, with sequoias of sound, and if he could not produce on the piano what he hears in his head, he would do it by other means. He would gather about him whales and jets and cascades, and make them sing and roar and crash." - Whitney Balliett, on Cecil Taylor
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