‘What can I do? This is showbiz’: The time opera superstar Luciano Pavarotti stiffed Hamilton on Valentine’s Day, as well as the makeup date

At his peak, the larger than life tenor's soaring voice seemed without flaw, or peer.

He was the phenom of the opera, the King of the High Cs," who rose from Italian music halls in the 1960s to global superstar by the late 1980s; a one-name icon, the Elvis of classical music, lifting a genre into the popular culture and performing with artists from Bocelli to Bono.

Pavarotti.

Fans would travel far and wide to attend a Luciano Pavarotti concert, in the years before live music could be called up on a whim on YouTube.

A Pavarotti show, no matter where it happened, was an Event.

Princess Diana said his performance brought her to tears.

And yet, he had a reputation for not taking the stage if he didn't feel quite right.

A Chicago opera company cut ties with Pavarotti in 1989 over his repeated cancellations.

By 1999, the shadows were lengthening for Pavarotti; seven years away from his final bow on stage, and eight years from death.

It was electrifying news for music lovers that Pavarotti would perform a Feb. 14, 1999 show at Hamilton's Copps Coliseum, an arena that was state-of-the-art when it was built 14 years earlier.

There's a new edge of excitement to a Pavarotti performance," wrote Hamilton Spectator music critic Hugh Fraser. Singing depends on some of the body's most fragile and age-prone organs. At 63, Pavarotti is well beyond the age at which most singers retire. This could be the last time."

Ticket requests for Pavarotti poured in from across Canada, the U.S. and as far away as Moscow.

For residents in Hamilton, a city still carrying its blue collar Steeltown" nickname, and unfairly considered a backwater by the culturati in comparison with Montreal or Toronto, the show carried special meaning.

Who could predict that Hamilton's love affair with Pavarotti would crash and burn that Valentine's night?

It was a night of accusations and conspiracy theories, with 14,000 fans left aghast in their seats - and still the maestro would snub his suitor a second time, inspiring the front page headline in The Hamilton Spectator: No Show-Le Mio Pavarotti - Again."

***

This oral history tells the story of Pavar-notti" from the perspective of several players in the drama. All of the interviews were conducted in the present, looking back at what they were doing and thinking in 1999.

Act 1: The Great One Cometh

Gabe Macaluso, CEO of Hamilton Entertainment and Convention Facilities (HECFI): There were three things I wanted to accomplish as CEO. One was to bring an NHL team to Hamilton, the second to have Frank Sinatra perform here. And the third was bring Pavarotti to the city... I ended up chasing him for 10 years, and his people kept telling me: He'll play Toronto but he doesn't need to come to Hamilton, which is not a cultural kind of city.' And I said that's far from the truth, and there are over 80,000 Italians living in our area, and most love classical music. And we have a philharmonic orchestra that's been around 100 years. But it was always: We'll call you.' And the years went by."

Macaluso had been chatting with the owner of the NHL's Edmonton Oilers, Peter Pocklington, about moving the team to Hamilton, but the deal never materialized. In the fall of 1995, Pocklington phoned Macaluso and threw him a bone.

Macaluso: Pocklington said, Gabe I've got something for you. I'll give you an (American Hockey League) team out of Nova Scotia, and I'd like to invite you to Edmonton to attend the Pavarotti concert.' I thought: Oh boy, fantastic! And I sat in the front row, and had dinner with Pavarotti and his manager, and that's when we made a deal with him to come to Hamilton."

The Hamilton Spectator, Jan. 27, 1996: Would you spend $300 for a top ticket to a Copps Coliseum concert? You might if the performer was world-class tenor Luciano Pavarotti ... It would carry the highest priced tickets in Copps' history, with prices from $50 to $300."

The Spectator, April 23, 1996: An appearance by Luciano Pavarotti, Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo at Toronto's SkyDome Jan. 4, 1997, would appear to have wiped out any chance Hamilton has of landing Pavarotti for what would have been the concert of the Sesquicentennial."

The Spectator, Jan. 7, 1997: Hamilton and Pavarotti negotiations are back on."

The Spectator, Sept. 18, 1998: Luciano Pavarotti, the leading light of The Three Tenors and possibly the most famous opera singer in the world, is coming to Hamilton. He'll perform Feb. 14, 1999 on St. Valentine's Day, to sing favourite love songs from opera and the Neapolitan region of Italy."

Cathy Bryden, ticket holder: I admired Pavarotti for his voice and range. I was excited that Hamilton was getting him and not Toronto or Montreal."

Dolores Soyka, ticket holder: My ticket was a gift; I was careful with my money then, I was divorced with three teenagers ... I always appreciated opera and classical music, and Pavarotti. Although I would go faster to get to a Placido Domingo concert."

The Spectator, Sept. 29, 1998: Pavarotti ticket sales set Copps box office record."

The Spectator, Feb. 10, 1999: The great one cometh: But can Pavarotti deliver operatic heroics? The greatest voice of his generation is coming to Copps Coliseum to sing for us on Valentine's Day. Curtain time is 7 p.m."

Pavarotti arrived at Hamilton airport Feb. 12, 1999, two days prior to showtime. He was booked to stay at the Sheraton, back then one of Hamilton's few top-drawer hotels downtown.

Macaluso: When Pavarotti got off the plane he was wearing a huge wraparound scarf, a French hat, and a big warm blanket jacket ... There were about 30 people in his entourage; his chef, hair and makeup artist, a young woman who was his secretary who he ended up marrying ... The chef was pleased that the Hamilton Farmer's Market was next door to the hotel so he could walk to buy food to make the meals ... For the parade of about 10 cars from the airport to the Sheraton, his manager said he wanted all the cars to be Audis, white ones. Audi was a tour sponsor. I had been driving a dark Ford Queen Victoria the city gave me, and the manager said you have to get rid of it. I called the manager at Hamilton Audi and he said I've got one for you to use."

McMaster University officials asked if Pavarotti would accept an honorary degree, the first Canadian university to so honour him. He agreed, so long as it was presented at the Sheraton, not on campus. Peter George, McMaster's president, had a cold and did not attend, to keep Pavarotti, who was notoriously cautious about getting sick, free from germs.

The Spectator, Feb. 13, 1999: It's Dr. Pavarotti to you now, pal. McMaster conferred the honorary degree Doctor of Letters on the great operatic tenor Luciano Pavarotti at a hastily organized convocation in the ballroom of the Sheraton Hotel. No one with a cold gets near a tenor about to give a concert ... Pavarotti, looking tanned, trim, fit and half his age of 63, came forward to say how touched and honoured he was at being granted the degree and how much more it made him want to sing well in Sunday's concert."

Alvin Lee, President Emeritus and vice chancellor at McMaster, who presented the degree:

Peter (George) asked me to sub for him because he was not well ... Suddenly Pavarotti was in our midst at the hotel. He was jovial and hearty; a warm human being, hugging us all."

Act II: Purple Voodoo and Kleenex

On Saturday afternoon, Feb. 13, the Hamilton Philharmonic Orchestra took their places on stage for rehearsal, as did soloist Cynthia Lawrence, a Colorado native who would perform 74 times with Pavarotti over the course of his career.

Cynthia Lawrence: I was excited to go to Hamilton. I had performed opera in the city before, knew the area well, and the downtown, and had got to know the people. I thought: they will love experiencing Luciano perform."

Macaluso: All the performers have riders that demand certain things backstage. Sinatra wanted nine different bottles of Scotch and a carton of unfiltered Camel cigarettes, but you couldn't get Camels in Hamilton so one of my people drove to Buffalo. And he wanted one tuna salad sandwich and one egg salad sandwich ... For Pavarotti, we had a large golf cart to drive him from his dressing room to the stage, and the stage had its own lift to raise him up to the stage level. We built a special dressing room for him with a washroom, with a toilet."

Dave Kelly, Copps Coliseum events manager, who had an office near the stage, the walls covered with posters commemorating rock concerts and wrestling matches and hockey games: Mr. Pavarotti stuck his head in my office. I had three of his tour posters for him to sign and he signed them all ... We did an awful lot to prepare for his show. We emptied half the city's greenhouses for plants to put in dressing rooms and around the stage."

Macaluso: About that flower arrangement: Pavarotti's manager calls me over and says, the stage is beautiful, but you have to get rid of all the purple flowers. I said what? He said the colour purple reminds Pavarotti of death. I had florists pick all the purple flowers out."

Renowned and beloved Hamilton glass artist Shirley Elford, whose past work had included designing the Juno Award trophies, created a special glass bowl as a gift from the city to Pavarotti: a purple one.

Macaluso: His manager said: no way; look at the colour. So the bowl now sits in my living room."

Lawrence: It's a deep-rooted Italian thing in opera, like voodoo, that you can't wear purple on stage. I wore a purple dress one time at a rehearsal for an opera, an Italian colleague said he would not sing with me. I heard maybe it's because it's the colour of Lent?"

Pavarotti took the stage at rehearsal.

Kelly: I saw him, he did half a song, and just hearing his voice - I mean, there is one of the greatest singers in the world. He sounded OK to me."

Lawrence: Luciano wasn't on point. I thought: oh-oh. But I never like to really go there, it's a bit of a superstition. You just think: everything is great. Just breathe."

The next afternoon, Feb. 14, at about 5 p.m., the orchestra assembled on stage for a sound check with Pavarotti. He arrived in his golf cart and was lifted to the stage.

Natalie Mysko, violinist in the orchestra: He came on stage wearing a big scarf around his neck. He never did sing. I thought maybe he was coming down with something. Often performers would not sing at rehearsal to save their voice for the concert; or maybe he's a prima donna, and won't need to rehearse with us - like, who are we? We're just Hamilton."

Macaluso's recollection is that Pavarotti attempted to sing a few bars.

Macaluso: He had a large white handkerchief and was still wearing a hat. He couldn't hit the note. He blows in the handkerchief, and the conductor taps the podium and starts again, but he still can't reach the note. He throws the handkerchief to the ground and walks off. I thought, oh my God. The manager calls me over and says listen, we need a throat specialist here.' I had a renowned ear, nose and throat specialist on standby, out at St. Joe's hospital. I zoomed off in my Audi to St. Joe's."

Dr. Donald Robertson was the specialist, having started his practise three years earlier. But he wasn't on standby just for Macaluso, he was on call for emergency calls for the entire region that weekend.

Dr. Robertson: Someone called me, and I think they mentioned it had to do with Pavarotti at Copps. I said I could drive down but they said we'll send a car, it was kind of nice to be chauffeured and save myself $10 on the parking; they sent a nice Audi or something. I had my lab coat on and I gathered supplies. We got there and went in a back entrance, through tunnels."

Meanwhile, the audience had been filing-in to the arena and taking their seats. Some had been surprised when ushers didn't take their tickets at the door.

Soyka: I wore a velvet top jacket, it was pretty upmarket for me. Everyone was dressed up, no jeans, people had really beautiful clothes on. This was opera, it was special. We had dinner at the Trocadero beforehand; Italian, my friend wanted to do it up. It was a night to dress up and go admire the others there, this incredible group of people, everyone looked amazing and had this anticipation, and that added to the energy."

Lawrence: I always liked peeking out at the audience, and I could tell it was a bubbly audience, and people were excited and happy to be there ... I was wearing a custom gown, a Nolan Miller made in L.A., a five-layer silk chiffon turquoise blue with crystals. It was fancy dress. And Luciano put on a red tie for Valentine's."

Kelly: People had come from all over the world. One couple had flown in from Montreal in their own private plane."

Pat Collins, ticket holder: We had dinner at La Cantina, some Italian to get in the mood ... But this was February in Canada, and it was cold. I knew about (Pavarotti's) temperamental reputation."

Macaluso: We went to his dressing room and there were mounds of Kleenex on the floor. The manager said everyone else get out. I paced outside the room, you'd think my wife was expecting a baby. I mean, what am I going to do?"

Robertson: There were four or five other fellows in the dressing room, I think maybe two or three were family physicians from the audience, and then others in his entourage. I treated him like any other patient, talking to him about his medical history. I found him to be a very nice guy. I did a full endoscopic examination of his vocal chords. Basically it was an early laryngitis. This is not someone like a priest or teacher or who can just muddle through with a froggy throat, this is someone who will put tremendous stress on the vocal chords. We talked about the risk, and I told him, and his team, that if he sang a full concert, there was sufficient pathology in his voice box that he would likely suffer damage to his vocal chords."

Macaluso: The manager comes out and says: It's cancelled. We'll do a makeup date.' It's now 7 p.m. and the mayor comes down now to see me, wondering what the delay is all about. I said it's cancelled, and he said what? Now what do we do?' And he left me. I got the staff together, the orchestra, the choir, and told them it's not happening."

Kelly: This had never happened before at Copps. I think Billy Joel cancelled, but he hadn't arrived in Hamilton yet ... We had to decide on a safe cancellation procedure for the audience. It meant bringing everyone in for the show, and have them take their seats before telling them, otherwise, if you cancel at the front door, it's crazy, it would be bedlam. But people knew something was up when ticket takers weren't taking tickets."

Robertson: Whether or not to cancel the concert, that's beyond my pay grade, and I didn't feel it was my place to say. I laid out the options and risks. Honest to God, I didn't know if he had sang through worse in the past ... I didn't have time to think about (the repercussions). I had another call at Henderson hospital to tend to."

Soyka: So many people in the arena, and everyone so excited, all dressed up and sitting in their seats, waiting. And waiting. And waiting."

Lawrence: Everything was just so perfect, and then it wasn't."

Macaluso: I went to my dressing room where my tux was hanging. I was talking to myself, putting it on, and by the time I got to the top and put that tie on, it was like: I'm dead, like a salmon reaching the top of the river. I had staff tell the crowd I was coming up on stage shortly, but not mention why. So everyone was more or less seated. I came on stage, and of course everyone is clapping, so happy. I said, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry but Maestro will not be singing tonight.' And all the boos and whistles, it was like a soccer game. I said he is incapacitated with throat problems and he will not come on stage unless he can perform his best. And then I said the show is cancelled and a date of July 11 has been set as the makeup day, and if you want a refund - there were no online sales back then - we don't have the money in the box office, you have to come back Wednesday."

Soyka: We felt so let down. All you could do was file out again. It was just: disappointment, disappointment, and more disappointment."

Mysko: I was sitting there with my violin in my hands waiting to play. I wore a long black dress. Nothing seemed to be happening, and when they said the concert was cancelled, we just sat in our chairs, as if by some miracle this might still happen. We had enough material to play a half concert, orchestra alone, to help pacify the people, that's what they should have done. We could have played an overture or something as they walked out. But that's not for me to say."

Lawrence: The fact is, Luciano was ill and if he had sung, physically he might have done damage to his voice ... They asked me to come on stage for the announcement, and I stood there and my heart broke for everyone. People got on phones trying to call drivers back and taxis and limos and move reservations up to salvage the evening. The mood was generally one of disappointment, not anger. The anger came later. And a sense of betrayal."

Mysko: After leaving the stage, and walking outside to the parking lot, I carried my violin case, everyone knew I was with the orchestra, thousands were coming out of the arena, and some would stop and talk and ask what I thought, was he sick? And I said I didn't really hear him sing so we didn't know. But we were saddened that this was all for naught, and of course you get emotional. We used to play for all kinds of stars, but by 1999 they had started to dwindle a bit - but Pavarotti, this is exciting, it's starting again. You build yourself up emotionally and it's taken away. I don't think anyone had ever cancelled, and I played a lot of those shows: Liberace, Tony Bennett, Paul Anka, Tom Jones, you name it."

The Spectator, Feb. 15, 1999: Pavar-notti! Tenor's cold a giant headache for disappointed fans' ... As arena workers stacked folding chairs and dejected musicians put their instruments back in their cases, Gabe Macaluso stood his ground on the arena floor, patiently explaining the situation to disappointed fans. The good news is, he'll be back July 11,' Macaluso said gamely to a woman clad in black mink and her husband in black leather. We hope you'll be here.'"

Robertson: The gravitas of it was not lost on me, you do feel bad for folks who were looking forward to this once in a lifetime event. But life was so busy for me back then, I had a young family, I didn't give it a lot of thought. And then my mother in St. Catharines sends me an envelope full of newspaper clippings, about how I had pulled the plug on the concert, and dreams had crumbled and stuff like that ... And I became the voice guy' for a year or 18 months, people with vocal problems seemed to want to come to me. And for quite a number of years there were people, especially in the Italian community, who would say: Hey you were Pavarotti's doctor.'"

Act III: Mio Albatross

The Spectator, July 3, 1999: Luciano Pavarotti isn't taking any chances this time, Hamilton. The world's most famous tenor is currently resting his equally-famous vocal chords at home in Italy. And he plans to stay there until his July 11 return engagement at Copps Coliseum when he will make up for the Feb. 14 concert that was cancelled at the last minute when he came down with the most infamous cold in Hamilton history."

The Spectator, July 7, 1999: So here it is again. The Big Occasion. Mr. Pavarotti. Mr. P is back in town Sunday, July 11 at Copps Coliseum."

About 8,000 fans had received refunds from the first Hamilton show, but all those tickets were quickly sold. On Saturday afternoon, July 10, Pavarotti's entourage again touched-down at Hamilton airport, but this time the tenor was in New York City, having played a show at the Metropolitan Opera. Pavarotti was to arrive Sunday. Still at the airport, at about 1 p.m., before heading into the city, Pavarotti's manager approached Gabe Macaluso, and gave him the news.

Macaluso: He said Pavarotti has cancelled. I said what? He said it was his throat again, that he wasn't feeling well. I called the mayor and he said you gotta be kidding me. I said, what can I do, this is showbiz.' That's when the conspiracy theory came out, that Pavarotti would never come to Hamilton, and was never here, the first time or this time."

The Spectator, July 10, 1999: No show-Le Mio Pavarotti Copps out, Again' ... Ian Maclaren, president of the Rudas Organization that produces Pavarotti's concerts, said a doctor examined him and said don't do anything for 48 hours, which would take it kind of close to the time of the concert. He felt that to come up here and do a show that wouldn't do anybody justice, was not worthwhile and we had to cancel.'"

Lawrence: We were in Hamilton in advance, but still there was a tiny thing in the back of my mind: is this show really going to happen? Because Luciano was very superstitious, in the sense of once burned, twice, no. I honestly don't know why the second show was cancelled. The first time, it was very sad for Hamilton, I don't know what else could have been done, because he was ill. But the second time? I thought that was dirty pool. I don't know that he was ill."

The Spectator, July 12, 1999: I think it's a slap in the face to Canada,' said one fan. Obviously, Hamilton isn't important enough to him' said another. If it was New York, he'd have been there.' HECFI CEO Gabe Macaluso said that if Pavarotti's team wants to arrange a return date, our building is available for rent. But I certainly won't pursue it. They know where we are.'"

Macaluso: Pavarotti is the albatross that hangs around my neck."

***

One week after the second Hamilton cancellation, Pavarotti performed in Detroit's Tiger Stadium, in a Three Tenors" concert with Placido Domingo and Jose Carreras. One reviewer wrote that Pavarotti, far past his prime," failed to hit several notes.

Six months later, reports said the opera house in Madrid, Spain, had been plunged into chaos" when Pavarotti cancelled his show at the last moment.

In 2002, boos filled the Met in New York, when Pavarotti cancelled moments before curtain: You can keep booing if it makes you feel better," the opera house general manager told the audience from the stage.

Soloist Cynthia Lawrence, who is the endowed chair in voice and opera at the University of Kentucky's School of Music, says that on more than one occasion, she had witnessed Pavarotti in tears backstage, struggling with the dilemma of whether to go on at less than his best.

He was, she says, a great mentor, but also tough: Luciano was kind and unkind; patient and impatient ... He lives with me every day; it was wonderful, the lessons I learned standing on stage with him. But I never wanted his career, because he was a prisoner of it."

In the wake of Pavarotti's death on Sept. 6, 2007, Lawrence was invited by his widow, Nicoletta, to perform at a memorial concert among opera's heavy hitters, across the world in Jordan.

I asked Nicoletta, why me? And she said: Because you were his favourite.'"

Post-Pavar-notti," big acts played Copps Coliseum in Hamilton, including Bruce Springsteen, U2, Pearl Jam and Elton John.

If nothing else, Hamilton remained among those rare cities in the world where Pavarotti had at least intended to sing, and been in the house on the cusp of performing.

From his first Canadian appearance in 1967, he performed in the country 17 times: one show each in Edmonton, Calgary, and Vancouver, plus four in Toronto and 10 in Montreal.

On that oh-so-close Valentine's night in 1999, opera goers in Steeltown basked in anticipation, out on the town savouring Italian cuisine, and songs offering paeans to love and loss, embracing the fleeting magic of what might have been.

It had been, indisputably, an Event.

Jon Wells is a feature writer at The Spectator. jwells@thespec.com