An educated man must be in some sort instructed; but it is a mere non distributio medii to say that an instructed person must be an educated person.

And indeed, something was lost amid the clinking glasses, making it tougher to appreciate the subtle emotional touches of “Ariel,” the surprisingly jumpy gospelesque moments at the end of “Valentino” and the childlike frustration on “Nothing but a Miracle.”

Bold scale is the norm, as is a generally exuberant frontality.

His voice? A raspy, nasal and welcoming instrument, with a tubercular kind of charisma.