Having finally won his battle against leukaemia, José Carreras reaches the parts other tenors cannot reach, as Val Hennessy discovered when the Barcelona charmer made a surprise appearance on the Des O'Connor Show

Teddington Studios, London, and word goes round that José Carreras's private jet has been delayed. The Des O'Connor Show rehearsal erupts in turmoil. Des raises his eyes to heaven and takes deep breaths, cameramen bang their foreheads with their fists, the orchestra downs instruments and teams of exasperated technicians scuttle off to the canteen. In the corridor outside Studio 2, members of the public (mostly female and middle -aged) line up eagerly for the treat of becoming part of José's Studio Audience. Above the general hubbub you hear remarks like "I think he's gorgeous", "he turns my knees to water", "he makes me go all gooey" and "I've got photos of him all over my wall". You can be fairly certain that they aren't talking about Des. He, incidentally, has retired with fatalistic good humour to his dressing-room for coffee and a long wait.

José Carreras is more than a top opera star: He is more than a genius tenor whose lyrical larynx sends shivers up backbones. He is a man who has come back from the brink of death to resume a brilliant career around the opera houses and concert platforms of the world. When eight years ago, aged 40, he fell ill during the filming of La Boheme and was diagnosed as suffering from leukaemia his chances of survival seemed slim. But gloomy prognosticians hadn't reckoned with José's ferocious will to survive. After enduring months of intensive chemotherapy and agonising bone-marrow treatment he made a complete, almost miraculous recovery.

When Carreras subsequently dreamed up the idea of the Three Tenors concerts, with the aim of bringing operatic singing to the masses, he had little imagined that the trio would break box-office records. Of the three exalted world-famous tenors - José Carreras, Luciano Pavarotti and Placido Domingo - it is Carreras who inspires the warmest affection. As one of the fans lining up in the corridor outside Studio 2 puts it: "Pavarotti is always throwing tantrums, Domingo comes across as a bit of a bighead, but José [note the familiar use of the first name] is Mr. Nice Guy. He is always a perfect gentleman... there's a sort of dignity there, a sort of intense sincerity that shines through."

When José arrives, two hours late, a frisson of thrilled anticipation ripples through the queuing fans. The studio fills up again. The violins start tuning up. Des O'Connor hurries back to enthusiastic applause and to shouts of "Good Old Des" As a "voice booms "stand by for the warm-up rehearsal..." I am shunted along a corridor; up some stairs and instructed to wait outside José's dressing-room. From the other side of his door comes the sound of trills and warbly bits and a snatch of Mozart's Clarinet Concerto.

It is true to say that opera stars can be notoriously temperamental. Reporters have been known to panic, even turn tail when confronted by these mercurial, larger-than-life maestros, And I am speaking from painful experience. Domingo once cancelled an interview with me because the room was too draughty. Pavarotti reduced me and a photographer to gibbering wrecks during an interview by throwing his weight around and shouting "all journos and photographers are sheets!" So, outside José's dressing-room, I'm taking surreptitious big breaths to steady my nerves, José's secretary, a convivial man called Fritz, is waiting there too, carrying a white shirt on a hanger: It is the sort of designer-label white shirt that you associate with the best-dressed, very richest of men. "Sure, it's José's shirt" replies Fritz to my inquiry, "and you can bet it didn't come from Woolworth's. Ha, ha...José likes veery much Italian clothes. For the TV recording he'll be wearing this Etro shirt, a Donna Karan tie and jacket, Diego Della Valle trousers. His waistcoat is very special - it's by Groc, an up-and-coming Spanish designer"

Then the door opens, and here is José himself, inviting me inside, apologizing for keeping me waiting and setting my heart a-flutter with his handsome looks and exquisite manners. "We were delayed by the air-traffic control dispute," he explains, speaking perfect English with a seductive Spanish accent. "I am so very sorry that I have inconvenienced everybody, Forgive me, please."

Frankly, I'm flabbergasted. With his considerate and charming manners, José is definitely a different kettle of fish from Domingo and Pavarotti when I mention, in passing, that I once had a tricky time with Pavarotti. José's eyes blaze and he enthuses:..Ah. Pavarotti! His vitality is tremendous, he has a terrific sense of humour; he is a wonderful friend and a wonderful human being and so full of passion." Hmmm.

Passion turns out to be the theme of our conversation. José' s new CD is called Passion. It features on its cover a close-up photograph of José's burning-with-passion-eyes So, is he passionate man in private life? "I think that as a singer; as a performer; I'm a passionate artist...but in my private life that is another story which I prefer to keep to myself. I come from Barcelona, so I'm a hot-blooded Spaniard, yes? But really, that is a cliche. It is true that everything I consider important-- music, my children, football -- I care about passionately but in my everyday life I'm a fairly easygoing, level-headed man. I certainly had an explosive temperament as a young man but I calmed down as I became a bit more mature.

"The one time you will find me screaming with passion -but not loud enough to wreck my vocal chords, please God - is during football matches. Barcelona is my team. Years ago, during Franco's dictatorship, if you supported Barcelona you were making a political statement that you were against Franco. To scream for Barcelona was to scream for Catalonia, our culture and our traditions. Today, our club has 120,000 members, the whole region is behind us."

The one thing José loves to talk about is football. Ask him a question about anything and he will invariably end up talking about football. Mention, for example the rivalry that is said to exist between the three tenors, and he replies "This is nonsense. Let me tell you something. We three tenors know exactly how difficult it has been for each of us. We all know how hard it is to get to the top in our chosen careers, and how difficult it is to stay there, so we have a very strong bond with each other. When we get together we have great times and we talk mostly about football. We all watch football. We are crazy about football." Ask him about the discreet and glamorous female companions he's occasionally seen with and he replies "I think I'm a normal man in this respect.. I'm proud to say I have a very cordial relationship with my ex-wife, Mercedes, and I see my grown-up children, Alberto and Julia, all the time. My great pleasure is to take Alberto to watch Barcelona play football. He shares my passion for football. If I hadn't become a singer I would have liked to play centre-forward for the Barcelona team."

But back to passion and the new CD. José had the brilliant idea of commissioning several distinguished lyricists to write words to some of those classical tunes that we all love, and which we "tra-la" along to when listening to the radio. As he explains: "All my life I have listened to certain beautiful pieces of music, by Brahms, Albinoni, Beethoven and so on, and I have thought how wonderful if would be if the 'singable' pieces actually were songs. There is a lot of romantic, melancholy passion in the melodies I have chosen, and the lyrics are suitably passionate.

Included among the 14 tracks is Mozart's Clarinet Concerto, adapted and sung as "Love is a Melody", the third movement of Brahms's Symphony No. 3 sung as "Close to Me", and Beethoven's Pathétique Sonata sung as "I Remember You". José says it is impossible to choose his favorite but that "being a Spaniard I must say that Rodrigo's masterwork Concierto de Aranjuez is a particularly beautiful piece which I sing as "En Aranjuez con tu amor". He adds that adaptations of orchestral works for the tenor voice are not new. Great singers of the past, such as Gigli, Caruso, Di Stefano and McCormack, all sang favourite melodies adapted with lyrics for the voice. And to those music snobs and purists who may sniff at the concept of adapting, and who mutter darkly about "trivialisation" José points out that these songs are a new and innovative departure for him and that they will, he predicts, introduce great classical melodies to a wider; less snooty audience.

He is certainly right when he insists that everyone has a favourite piece of music suitable for a song. I, for one, have had a certain tune on my brain for weeks. it would be just the job for one of José's adaptations. I start wittering on about it to him but - hell - I can't remember what it's called, think it's by Tarrega...Michael Mappin often plays it on Nocturne...it features a very twangy, slow guitar...Something to do with the Alhambra? "Sing it to me, please," says José patiently. Can you imagine it? One of the world's greatest tenors is asking me to sing? Cringing with embarrassment, I open my mouth to warble a few bars of the tune (called Recuerdos de lo Alhambra I later discovered) and all that comes out is a strangled croak. José, kindness itself, suggests that I contact Michael Mappin for details and send them to him. I will. I will. But, phew what an ordeal! How could I have made such a prat of myself. José seems genuinely not to mind. He explains that he often gets people humming snatches of melodies and asking him to identify them. It's a hazard of the job.

Those same snobs and purists who bemoan the classical adaptations see both the Passion CD and the Three Tenors concerts as downmarket career moves. They also maintain that the packed open-air concerts are in danger of becoming something of a circus. Does José agree? "Not at all, What we do is entertainment I am an entertainer In the past 20 years opera has become increasingly popular with the general public. Happily it is no longer the preserve of the elitist few. There are not many artists in the world for whom the demand for tickets could, perhaps fill a conventional hall 20 times over. We decided to do it on a large scale, and what's wrong with that? The disadvantage is that you do not hear our voices as you would in an opera house or concert hall because of the amplification. But think of the advantages - great enjoyment for millions, and a new, and often younger; audience for classical music.

"Sports arenas and open-air stages are not the best venues acoustically, but they offer a wonderful opportunity for a much wider social group to experience a certain kind of music."

After four years of intensive hospital treatment and his spectacular recovery. José announced he would be taking things easy. He anticipated playing a little tennis, watching football, driving around in his black Bentley coupé ("I received it as a present, I love it very much") and walking along the Costa Brava where he owns a luxury summer villa. Things didn't work out like that. Within months he was back on the gruelling opera circuit, flying around the world, living out of suitcases and confounding those Jeremiahs who had predicted that his career was finished. In circumstances where lesser mortals might decide to call it a day, José has embarked on a punishing programme of work allowing himself just 10 weeks a year for holidays. Why?

"Let me tell you something. If I was the sort of person who is happy to be at home watching TV then that is what I would do. But no, it is work that makes me happier than anything else. I choose to go round the world, I choose to communicate with my voice. If I didn't do this, I wouldn't be myself. Now I have the green light from my doctor to do what I want to do. I am no longer on any sort of medication. I am most fortunate because the medical treatment did no damage to my mucous membranes, ears or vocal chords. I could have come through with a healthy body but been partially deaf or hoarse... Thankfully I feel completely recovered and it is up to me to make the most of what is left of the rest of my life."

He is interrupted by a tap on the door: It is time for make-up, photographs and to sit beside Des on the long beige sofa under the blazing lights. Fritz invites me to join the studio audience and watch the TV recording of José's version of Chopin's Etude No. 3 in E minor. Enter José. Someone asks him "How's Barcelona doing, José?" and he replies "Fine. I was at the match on Saturday and we won 4-1." José stands on stage rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck Then everything goes quiet. There's a sudden sensation of turbocharged nailbiting tension. The studio audience seems to be holding its breath. The orchestra's instruments are poised. Stand by for the tingle factor. José positions himself behind the microphone, elegant and stunningly handsome in his designer clothes. The conductor raises his baton. "Take it away, José" and the beautiful voice spills over us all. Powerful and perfect, it exerts its mesmerising magic. Tears trickle down a few cheeks as the rapturous violins soar in a crescendo, It wrings your heart. Afterwards, an enthralled fan says that she can now boast to her friends "I have seen José Carreras in the flesh and I have heard him sing.

Her remark is overheard by a violinist who starts smirking. "Actually you haven't heard him sing:' he says. "He was miming to a track from the new CD. We all were:' Please! We don't wish to know that: At this moment we are still high on the sublime artistry. We're in an altered state of consciousness. And we simply will not allow some cynical upstart violinist in a black bow tie to destroy our illusions.

Copyright © 1996 CLASSIC FM Magazine