Larger than life ... Pavarotti on stage for a recital at La Scala, Milan, in 1983
He never wanted to rehearse. When we did La Bohème, he couldn't be persuaded to come to Covent Garden for rehearsals, but somehow he made it to the theatre just before the dress rehearsal. He was already fairly mammoth by then. He wore his own costume, he roamed all over the stage, making sandwiches in the middle of the act, and singing a high C the like of which I'd never heard before, so of course we forgave him everything. He was a force of nature.
Whether it's a sportsman like Pelé or a singer like Pavarotti, every now and then nature puts together a package that simply dominates the field. I used to sit with him on stage with my mouth agape and just marvel. He was a total singing machine, and he was phenomenally strong, the sort of man who could have lifted the car off you after an accident. He had a superhuman quality.
There's a story about him and Placido Domingo chatting after a concert that Domingo had conducted. Placido said, "it's wonderful to have this double career, being able to conduct and sing as well. Why don't you try it, Luciano?" And Pavarotti said, "What, with a voice like mine?"
• Friends, colleagues and critics remember Pavarotti in tomorrow's G2
