After a private recital given by Montserrat Caballé in a Miami mansion years ago, I was introduced to the luminous Spanish soprano and promptly babbled away idiotically. I said something about how, whenever I feel disappointed that I never heard Callas live, I took great pleasure in knowing that I was around to hear the great Caballé. There was a compliment in there somewhere, but it must have sounded awfully stupid.
I thought of that encounter today when I noticed that April 12 is Caballé's 77th birthday. And that's reason enough to revel in her glorious voice again. I know well the standard criticisms about the soprano -- all tone and technique, no temperament; too limited an actress in opera; etc. But I still think that she produced some of the most viscerally beautiful, supremely stylish singing of the past century. For that, I'll always be grateful. So feliz cumpleaños, Montserrat Caballé.