Paul Potts. An unknown man from an obscure corner of little England (O, land of tiny body with a mighty heart), an unknown man whose heart`s desire is to open his mouth in song… in Opera, the pinnacle of vocal performance and craft.
Humble in bearing and ordinary in appearance, his gentle voice and lilting Welsh accent give little indication of what fire may reside within.
Perhaps he is, though earnest and convivial, simply lacking any discernible talent with which he would be able to do a proper artistic justice to the many powerful arias formulated by musical genius.
`Tis no great shame in this, for very few of us are so blessed.
Nay, let us give him ear…
Ah me, what a performance!
“Nessun Dorma” (No one shall sleep!) from the brilliant opera Turandot by Giacomo Puccini, a work made popular in recent years by Luciano Pavarotti.
Mr. Potts performance was spot-on and robust; with a visceral passion and tenderness, that belies his unassuming demeanor.
What a sparkling moment this is, in a miry haze of cultural mediocrity and pop entertainment for its own sake.
I shall look forward to what, I have little doubt, shall be a luminous career.
Bravo, Mr. Potts… Bravo.