The calm virtuoso
Mr Bocelli is not a huge fan of granting interviews, and he prefers to do so with the security of a translator. Wearing sunglasses, a dark suit and a self-possessed air, it is easy to understand why he has captured the ears, and hearts, of so many. But like any classical artist with a huge crossover appeal, he has endured his share of criticism, particularly from the opera bu s who don’t consider his tenor voice to be up to scratch. ‘No opera singer is exempt from critics of this nature,’ he says. ‘You just have to put up with it. Maria Callas was targeted all her life with this sort of criticism.’
As he listens to the translator express his statement, his foot shakes vigorously, and for a moment the calm virtuoso exudes a rather more irritated air. ‘The fact is, it’s the bad criticism that gets reported in the newspapers. Nobody is ever interested in the good things.’
Yet there are an awful lot of good things to say about Bocelli, and he has many famous fans who would agree. Elizabeth Taylor once said, ‘God has kissed this man and I thank God for it,’ while Pavarotti himself commented, ‘There is no ner voice than Bocelli.’ It was that remark that put Bocelli on the music map 20 years ago, and he will forever be grateful to the man he calls ‘the maestro’.
‘He was certainly the first person to say publicly what he thought of me and my voice, and it meant that a lot of doors that had previously been shut to me, were opened,’ Bocelli says warmly. The two men formed a rm friendship, with Bocelli singing at Pavarotti’s wedding in 2003 followed by, sadly, his funeral in 2007. ‘He was very important in my life for many, many reasons,’ he says.
Like his mentor, Bocelli demonstrated an a nity with music from a very young age. ‘My mother always says that when I was a small child, if I heard music I would stop crying.’ With each new album (there are more than 30 and his latest is Passione) he tries to capture ‘a sort of serenity, and a type of pleasure only music can bring’.
For as much as music is his refuge, it is also his struggle. Having su ered from stage fright throughout his career, he endeavours to ‘not think about anything’ while performing. ‘I try to be myself when I sing,’ he explains. ‘Just be with myself and create.’ Those who have seen him in concert will know that he often taps the microphone to the side of his mouth before commencing. It is a way of getting his bearings, since Bocelli has spent years performing without ever having seen his audiences.
Partially sighted since birth, he was diagnosed with congenital glaucoma in early childhood. It was while playing football that a ball (specially weighted for visually impaired players) hit him on the head, causing a haemorrhage, which led him to lose his vision entirely aged 12. He does not like to discuss his blindness in interviews (he has been known to walk out), but his autobiography, The Music Of Silence, reveals his attitude towards the disability. Referring to his 12-year-old self, he writes: ‘It took a good hour or so to spill all his tears of fear and dismay… and a full week to get used to his new circumstances.’
‘I have a lot of defects, like we all do,’ the present-day Bocelli continues, and one gets the impression that he is purposefully not referring to his loss of sight. ‘But I’m also a very lucky person. The objective we all have is to be loved. I have been very fortunate to be loved by many – not only by friends and family, but also by the public.’
What is it about him that so appeals, I ask?
Suddenly there is a change of tone. ‘I have no idea,’ he says, in softly accented English. ‘Honestly, I don’t know.’
Stage fright or not, I suggest that part of his charm is that he so clearly enjoys his work. He does not disagree and, warming to the theme, continues to express himself in English. ‘In the way that God created man to his liking, if we are creating something through art or music or whatever, we are replicating what God did with us. Music has the capability of communicating what is not possible to communicate with words.’
As a devout Roman Catholic, it is not surprising that some of his most memorable performances have been when the ponti was present. ‘I remember those times with particular a ection,’ he says. Bocelli sang for Pope John Paul II on the day his own father died, when thinking about nothing more than ‘the words that I’m singing’ was a real comfort. He also visited Muhammad Ali in his home to perform, which left a real impression.
‘Not only has he been the biggest boxer in the world, but he is also a big man. For my generation, he is a hero.’
Having sold millions of records, captured the attention of royalty, the Pope and his personal hero, what has he yet to achieve? The foot-shaking has disappeared as he smiles: ‘Being successful is not my goal, at least not now. My goal is to leave a beautiful memory about me.’
Andrea Bocelli’s Passione is out now on Decca Records.