Nessun dorma: exploring Pavarotti's style How the Internet turned the tenor into an unexpected style icon

In the history of music, as well as in that of pop culture and real life, Luciano Pavarotti was a larger-than-life figure. Perhaps the primary one, along with Maria Callas, responsible for re-establishing the connection between the aristocratic world of bel canto and popular culture. In 1982, Time described him as «the first tenor of modern times who not only pleases the devotee but also wows the masses». The polarity between the theater and the stadium, so to speak, between operatic and popular music («there is a meeting point between the two», he said in 2000 at the Sanremo Festival, «when the music is beautiful, it's beautiful»), between the elevated and the pop, somewhat defined his very long career, along with his commitment to social causes. But this is hagiography, not pop history. For those born and raised in Italy in the '90s, for Millennials in general, Pavarotti is one of those figures populating the collective imagination without a specific role: young Millennials, not particularly aficionados of classical music, knew he was a tenor but did not fully grasp the world of opera. They remembered his unmistakable appearance with a beard, large black eyebrows, and eyes accentuated with eye-pencil, along with the ever-present smile. He was a paternal figure in his own way. The creation of his persona was also heavily based on his style, which, more than personal, was unmistakable: the classic white scarf, a symbol of all opera singers who take care of their voice; the bottomless collection of Hermès scarves, large as nautical sails, that accompanied him constantly; the Panama hat alternated with the newsboy hat; the vivid opulence of the 1980s colors he wore. Sixteen years after his passing, Pavarotti is an icon, not only of bel canto but of the good life: everything about him, from the unforgettable performance of "Nessun Dorma" to the photos of him riding a scooter on his estate, speaks of a sincere and very Italian vitality.

How much did style play a part in creating this myth? Maximum and minimum. Minimum because, in his years, it was easier to see Pavarotti on stage or in a tuxedo than in his personal looks, and thus his style emerged from TV programs or photos in magazines but without that impact, as it was a common look at the time and little considered compared to his singing work; maximum because precisely those photos, in the era of the internet, began to circulate again, suggesting a familiar, fun, and very approachable image, often quite detached from the Maestro's stature in the field of opera. What people appreciate about him is the excess and abandon that those photos testify to; even the neglect of many of his outfits has become appreciable. In this sense, if Pavarotti's work belongs to the highest art, his outfits and the appreciation for them are pure post-modern camp. Which of the two Pavarottis will survive longer in collective memory? We hope for both, but perhaps we cheer for the first.