Customer Reviews

The King and I: The Uncensored Tale of Luciano Pavarotti's Rise to Fame by His Manager, Friend and Sometime Adversary

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

I read this before his death, and even then it seemed like a low blow. The author is so busy touting his own importance and taking credit for everything, that he consciously and unconsciously makes Pavarotti the fool(not that he wasn't in some ways). A more accurate title would have been, ME and the king.

The opera's not over `til the manager sings. At least that's the case in Herbert Breslin's no holds barred dishy tale of his 36 years as manager, friend, and yes, foe of the famed Luciano Pavarotti, arguably the most well known name in contemporary opera. It's all here - the temper, the tackiness, the brilliance.

Of their years together Breslin writes, "Sometimes he was a great, great client. Sometimes he acted like he ruled the world around him and everyone in it, including me. Sometimes he was a close and generous friend. Sometimes he was a real pain in the ....." All of those descriptions are fleshed out with witty, wrathful, and appreciative accounts of their days together.

"The King & I" is one of those bios in which one learns as much about the "I" as we do about "The King." As it turns out, that's pretty good reading, too. Breslin begins when he was 33-years-old working as a speech writer for Chrysler in Detroit. That, he calls misery. After all. He's a New Yorker, and he loves opera. Determined to become a part of the opera world, he began by working for John Crosby who had just founded the Santa Fe Opera. His salary? $0.00.

All he had was determination and a huge hunk of chutzpah. Little did he know that some day he would manage the most famous names in the world of classical music - Renata Tebaldi, Alicia de Larrocha, Marilyn Horne, Placido Domingo, and, of course, Luciano Pavarotti.

Initially, according to the author, Pavarotti was amenable, eager to please. Yet, there must of been some inkling of his later demeanor in the fact that never once in all their years together did Pavarotti ever go to Breslin's office - Breslin always came to him. After five years together Breslin felt very much a part of the Pavarotti family, visiting the tenor's home in Modena, Italy, a number of times. He describes it as a place that was always full with Pavarotti a congenial host. Adua Pavarotti, the singer's wife was in complete charge of their financial affairs as well as having almost total responsibility for the raising of their three daughters, Lorenza, Cristina, and Giuliana.

Early on, Breslin felt that Pavarotti had the makings of super stardom, and he began to devise a plan to achieve this. Of course, singing at the Met was wonderful but Breslin saw it as too confining. He didn't want Pavarotti to leave the Met, he just wanted more. More was to come - the recordings, television, recitals, outdoor concerts, Madison Square Garden and, of course, the piece de resistance - The Three Tenors.

However, there did come a time when, as Breslin describes it, "Working with Luciano was like coming under machine-gun fire." Their relationship came to an end, with Breslin deciding that Pavarotti cared for no one but himself.

Obviously, no one really knows for whom Pavarotti really cares or how he felt about the break-up of their long term relationship. What is known is that the tenor contributed an epilogue for this book in which he expresses gratitude to Breslin.

Whether you're an opera lover, a Pavarotti fan or not, "The King & I" is a jolly good can't-put-down read.

- Gail Cooke

Reading this book, I was impressed by Pavarotti's patience with Mr Breslin. It is clear that the man was driven by money and, notwithstanding his repeated claims of affection towards Pavarotti, his book shows little evidence of any true "friendship". So Pavarotti was not perfect! Big surprise! He was a typical tenor and behaved like one and he was the greatest. He ranks up there with Caruso and Gigli; he gave everything for his fans and his fans loved him, warts and all. I finished the book feeling a renewed sense of affection for Pavarotti and a gutsy dislike for Mr. Breslin.
A work inspired by bitterness and best avoided.

This book is mostly a list of complaints that Breslin had in reference to working for Pavarotti. He didn't complain about the money he made though in exploiting this mans talent. Pavarotti was human like the rest of us and of course had his faults. Others have described him as warm, loving and generous. This may be illustrated by the chapter that Pavarotti wrote at the end of this book. He was most generous to Breslin in his comments and never mentioned anything unflattering about his former manager. Maybe this illustrates the attitudes of the two men better than anything Breslin mentions in the book. Finally, Pavarotti will be defined most by his incomparable voice and great talent. He was truly the greatest tenor. Vinceroooooooo! Vinceroooooooooo! Mr. Pavarotti, you won!! You won!!!

This would be a five-star review if it were not for a couple of revelations about the tenor which are the result of mean-spiritedness masquerading as honest intimacy. By contrast, Pavorotti's dignified response at the end of the book causes me to wonder if he read it thoroughly. Otherwise, the author is on solid ground in relating the basis for their mutually beneficial relationship and in his comparisons to Domingo who was also a client for a time.
Breslin presents Pavarotti as having the sweetest sounding voice with a
brightness of tone and an ability to phrase that were unmatched by anyone else in his time. Not surprisingly, his repetoire was full of Italian bel canto - the better to show off his attributes.
By comparison, Domingo had a much larger repetoire and facility in more languages and was simply much more ambitious. He was limited by not having a high C and in general lacked Pavarotti's brightness in the upper register. The one was a essentially an instinctive lyric tenor and the other was an intellectual, dramatic one.
What is most important is understanding that Breslin and Pavarotti could have such success because he could appeal to a much broader audience than Domingo due to the immediately assessible greatness of his voice. They could overlook his serious limitations as an actor.
By contrast, a casual listener would have difficulty understanding that Domingo worked harder and did more to reveal the many dramatic tenor roles as a premier actor. Domingo would wonder why don't they rise to their feet? Pavarotti would say, I will make them rise to their feet!
I found parellels in popular entertainment. Pavarotti's unique gift and lack of discipline remind me of Brando. At the same time, his singular tone reminds me of Sinatra who also produced sounds that no one else has ever replicated. Like Sinatra, his sound and phrasing were the perfect combination with which to express the emotional meaning of the lyric. This combination in turn triggered corresponding emotional responses in audiences longing for release in the way Brando altered an audiences' realization of how naked and real an actor's performance could be.
But Domingo's pushing his talent and constantly learning, tackling new challenges is very much in the Sinatra mold.

This book delivers what it promises - a gossipy, uninhibited celebrity tell-all. Fun for Entertainment Tonight fans, but don't expect to learn anything about opera, singing, music history or musical values. You will learn how to care for an overindulged opera star, and that's about it. Anne Midgette writes with a polished style and keeps the story moving briskly. But this project must have been a trial. This book seems to genuinely reflect the nature of the Pavarotti-Breslin partnership, which is the most that can be said for it.

I've never been a real Pavarotti fan, though I am the first to acknowledge the magnificence of his voice. He was a tenor who had the goods to build a truly monumental and great career, but who chose instead to become a grotesquely overweight media clown. He made a stunning musical effect on the recital and concert stage, but his complete lack of stage deportment and refusal or inability to sing in any language other than Italian (save for Tonio in "La Fille du Regiment") severely limited the scope of his musical sphere. The fatter he got, the more limited he became. His vocal endowment was superior to that of Placido Domingo, to be sure, but he couldn't come within miles of Domingo in terms of repertoire, language ability, study, and physical appearance. Accordingly, it is no wonder that Domingo's DVDs ----- not to mention repertoire output on CD, far exceeded Pavarotti's by miles. Jimmy Breslin marketed Pavarotti like a piece of prime beef ----- "king of the high C's", etc, and he made Pavarotti what he was. Unfortunately, what he WAS is nowhere near what he COULD have been had he chosen to be an artist instead of a media buffo. I read this book with a certain sadness ---- Pavarotti's extreme laziness, his egotism, his eating habits ---- with the knowledege that today he is indeed a very sick man. I treasure many of his recordings, and I certainly enjoy his voice, one of the greatest ever - but my appreciation of him has somewhat diminished even further after reading this book, much of which is probably and regretably true. Sadly, as I write this, I have just heard that Pavarotti's health has dramatically worsened, and that his passing is imminent. Whatever my reservations about him artistically, Luciano Pavarotti was a great tenor and his magnificent voice and personality made a lot of people happy. For the joy he gave so many, he deserves his place among the legends of opera.

Mr. Breslin offers the tantalizing promise of an uncensored, behind the scenes review of the life and career of one of the greatest tenors that ever lived. Unfortunately, what he provides is a tiresome, plodding and only semi literate compendum of facts that have long been in the public domain.

We are given the scintillating news that Pavarotti, in private, is much like he is in public. We are told, yet again, about his weight, his ego, his appetite, his fondness for women and an inability to sight read or remember lyrics. The weight of this text is further increased by an especially tedious summary of Breslin's own career.

Yes, there are a few amusing anecdotes such as Pavarotti making himself ill after gorging on a half kilo of caviar at Breslin's Paris flat but, after 35 years of close association, I would have expected much more of substance.

Those whose love of opera and especially the great tenor are as great as mine may find this book somewhat amusing. The rest are urged to invest the price in a Pavarotti recording.

Author Herbert Breslin wrote a wonderful book on tenor Luciano Pavarotti. The book is full of tidbits and stories during Luciano Pavarotti's career with manager Herbert Breslin. Pavarotti started working with Herbert Breslin in 1967, and in 1968 he made his debut at the Metropoliton Opera. It was in the famous aria "Pour Mon Ame", of Donizetti's opera "Daughter of the Regiment", that Pavarotti went into "orbit".

The peak of Pavarotti's career was a big sell-out at New York Madison's Square Garden to 20,000 people. Author Herbert Breslin writes candidly about Pavarotti's affairs with his "secretaries", and his wife Adua whom he eventually divorced. This was very heartbreaking, and the only part of the book I found distressing.

The later part of the book Herbert Breslin writes about is the "Three Tenors", in which Domingo, Carreras, and Pavarotti got together for several concerts. The second concert they gave was a spectacular concert at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles.

Bravo Herbert Breslin for an enjoyable read; I could not put the book down. The book is a must for all classical music lovers and opera afficiandos!

It seems we are living in the age of the nice, prim prima donna, the kind that disavows any diva behavior, and takes great pains not to slander anyone else in the business. If you like this kind of goody-goody behavior, read Renee Fleming's newly released bio. If you want some backstage dirt, look no farther than Breslin's book.

On the one hand, I admire his chutzpah and dishing about different singers. On the otherhand, he is an incorrigible old coot. Still, this book serves in a variety of capacities. In addition to shedding some less-than-glowing light on Pavarotti, it also serves as a scrapbook of the golden age of operatic singing, and a how-to book for budding agents.

One thing I thought was particularly tasteless and curmudgeonly was Breslin's tale about his temper-tantrum at the Met when he wanted to see Renata Tebaldi sing Tosca, and flew to New York with his wife only to find out that Tebaldi was ill that night. He threw a royal temper-tantrum, and scored free tickets for another night. Yet, he boasts that no one EVER got free tickets for a Pavarotti event, no matter what. What a miser...