The swan song of Plácido Domingo was heard this year.
There is the sensational tabloid-news side of it, as allegations
of harassment and assault are in the works.
The man is, however, seventy-eight years old,
and if this coming-back-to-bite-you-in-the-backside development
had not put him in his place,
some other circumstance would have taken him out, this late in his career.

I am thinking of soprano Renata Tebaldi,
who I believe is still living,
although long retired and afflicted with arthritis.
Tebaldi, like Domingo after her,
was a favorite at New York's Metropolitan Opera.
It was when new management came in, looked and listened hard,
and evaluated Tebaldi's performances
that she was at last confronted at the contract table.
The new Met leader offered her roles that she had never performed,
which was his way of telling her that
she would no longer, at his company,
be engaged for the roles of her youth;
and she got the message, loud and clear, and walked away.


Because Domingo has had such a high-profile career and presence,
with maximum exposure and enormous success,
I find myself, oddly remembering
the death of Karol Wojtyla who became Pope John Paul II.
That man had hung on long after his physical health gave out,
and we all saw how pitiful and disabled and aged he was.
Then, when he died, and the mass media covered the Pope's career,
we were shown all that broadcast footage and video
from decades earlier,
to remind us of how he attracted, and commanded, world-wide attention.

And Domingo started, and peaked, at a fairly early age himself,
and became prominent and easily recognized.
Not just the sound of his voice when he was young,
but all those photos and videos/films
of that handsome unlined youthful face with its ready smile.

It is almost like looking at another person ...