Joyful 1990 concert has evolved into a packaged cash cow

SAN JOSE -- The Three Tenors -- José Carreras, Placido Domingo and Luciano Pavarotti -- came ensemble to the Bay Area Wednesday evening, the trio's Bay Area debut and what would appear to have been a cultural coup of sorts for this city where they sang -- and not always as expertly as their collective legends might suggest -- at the San Jose Arena. The event was billed as the trio's first indoor songfest in the United States.

For some, the folks in black tie and stoles, it was a night for celebrating high art. For others, who roamed the arena with bags of popcorn and nachos on paper plates, it might have been just another Sharks game. Yes, the aroma of rancid melted cheese occasionally penetrated the nostrils, and yet, the thought occurred that this was the only aspect of the evening that didn't seem canned. Ticket prices ranged from $100 to $600; I suppose if you shell out that much money, you can munch on hummingbirds' tongues during the performance (as long as you don't disturb your neighbors).

A fact must be faced. The initial Three Tenors concert was given in Rome's Baths of Caracalla in July, 1990, as a welcome back gesture for Carreras, who had just emerged heroically from a bout with leukemia. Our protagonists, who never went into this project with the idea that it would evolve into a most lucrative annuity, have grown older in the interim; their ages are 53, 58 and 64. The current repertoire hews closely to the original menu; at least 10 numbers were repeated from Rome.

And comparing these singers with their decade-old selves is not flattering. The luster has dimmed considerably even from the internationally televised Paris World Cup concert two years ago. Since voice, as opposed to music, is the reason for these concerts, the end of the line may be just around the corner.

Sad to say, the presenting organization, Tibor Rudas, did not lend ideal assistance to the threesome. Fortunately, the San Francisco Opera Orchestra (inexplicably unidentified in the handout program list) and conductor Marco Armiliato were on hand to provide seasoned accompaniments. And enormous video screens showed you all you ever wanted to see of Pavarotti's dancing eyebrows.

But, then, there was the sound system, which, by an unprofessional estimate, must have cost approximately $9.98. While amplification will always remain the scourge of serious music, some systems are less noxious than others. However, the apparatus deployed Wednesday consistently delivered a steely, dynamically undifferentiated response that enhanced none of the participants.

Then, if you listen to the record or view the video of the Rome concert, the joyousness and spontaneity of the moment ultimately prove irresistible. The Three Tenors has, in the meanwhile, evolved into a product that functions with almost mathematical precision -- and a comparable amount of warmth. The singers (each of whom is rumored to receive $1 million per performance) come on, do their numbers and then join in medleys at the end of each half of the program.

Still, the glamour factor is undeniable, especially in a community that probably will never again see any of these singers in a fully staged performance. No wonder that, with encores (of which I was able to hear only two) the concert approached the three-hour mark.

The greatest shock of this Three Tenors meeting was experiencing the deterioration in Carreras' instrument since a Davies Symphony Hall recital in mid-1998. He has gradually backed away from opera (Wednesday, he restricted his arias to Federico's Lament from Cilea's "L'Arlesiana"), and has moved over to pop material; his solo contributions were reduced here to tuneful trivia by De Curtis "Core 'ngrato"), Gastaldon ("Musica proibita") and Pietri ("Io conosco un giardino").

The Spanish tenor, in his prime, possibly possessed the most alluring instrument of the three. Time, illness and an ambitious repertoire have now done their worst. Gone is the sweet tone, the gift for spinning out a line like golden thread. Carreras still phrases engagingly, but the thickness of the response, the coarseness of attack, the straining for high notes cannot be ignored any longer.

Domingo's vocal state did not trouble Wednesday, but his contributions seemed oddly unengaged. In earlier encounters, he has made more of "O souverain, o juge, o p©re" (from Massenet's "Le Cid") than he did here (Carreras, by the way, used to do this number in the Three Tenors concerts).

Once upon a time, Domingo would bless "E lucevan le stelle" (from Puccini's "Tosca") with more delicate dynamic shadings. And though the vigor imparted to Leh¢r's "Dein ist mein ganzes Herz" (from "The Land of Smiles") was notable, Domingo seems ignorant of the niceties of Viennese operetta style. Give him a zarzuela excerpt, like "No Puede ser" (from Pablo Soroz¢bal's "La Tabernera del Puerto"), and the results can be absolutely blandishing.

That left Pavarotti, the senior member of the threesome, to provide the most ardent singing of the evening. What remains are much of the cherishable tone and a feeling for communicating Italian as if he were making love to it. The predictable "Nessun dorma" (from Puccini's "Turandot") raised the rafters. But "Recondita armonia" ("Tosca"), Lara's "Granada" and a pop item, Dalla's "Caruso," also ignited.

The Lalo Schifrin-arranged medleys, with the tenors trading off phrases and rapidly segueing into the next tune, afforded moments of pleasure. A Romance language group juxtaposed songs in French (mangled, alas), Italian, Spanish and Portuguese with sometimes thrilling results. A familiar American medley ("Maria," "Tonight," "Moon River," "My Way," "Because," "You'll Never Walk Alone") is wearing a bit thin. The initial encore, a three-way "La Donna © mobile," boasted more lung power than finesse.

To spell the singers, Armiliato led the orchestra in Berlioz's "Roman Carnival" Overture and the Bacchanale from Saint-Sa´ns "Samson et Dalila." The conductor knew what he was about, but the amplification made the orchestra sound puny and highlighted voices that deserved to be submerged. Still, concertmaster Kay Stern supplied ravishing sounds for Carreras in "Musica proibita."

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