Jay Ward

October, 1963

opera's prima donWhen, at the metropolitan opera house this fall, the terrible-tempered Franco Corelli struts and frets his hour upon the stage in Aïda, Il Trovatore and I Pagliacci, he will have reached the apex of a career that has carried him from the marshes of the Adriatic coast into the hearts of millions of Italian bobby-soxers who now chase him down the streets whenever he appears in public. Today, among the purveyors of yesterday's fish in the gallerias in front of La Scala, the devotee...