NOTES : BARCELONA ’92 OLYMPICS : Spanish Opera Stars Not Pleased With Script for Opening Act

Spanish and artistic temperament, as stormy as the second act of “Carmen,” erupted at a news conference for the operatic portion of the Olympic opening ceremony.

On hand to signal their presence in the Games and the release of a recording of their part in them were Spain’s most celebrated divas and tenors, including the internationally renowned, Spanish-born Placido Domingo.

The conference went swimmingly until someone wanted to know whether soprano Teresa Berganza was unhappy to be given back-of-the-record billing while the front of the album was decorated with the silhouettes, and names, of Domingo, diva Monserrat Caballe and Jose Carreras.

Berganza tried to be a brick about the whole thing, but ended up saying that she should have had her agent check more carefully into the matter, because she was certainly no minor artist and deserved similar billing to rival diva Caballe.

But this was child’s play compared with the uproar when a questioner wanted to know why another celebrated Spanish singer, Alfredo Kraus, had been left off the, so to speak, squad. Kraus had criticized Domingo and Carreras for appearing in a televised concert with Luciano Pavarotti that heralded soccer’s World Cup. Kraus considered the concert a prostitution of their art.

This question-and-answer exchange grew in volume until it oncluded with maestro Carreras angrily demanding the microphone be removed from the questioner, whom he identified as “no journalist, just a part of a claque.”

Someone then wanted to know whether the artists would merely lip-sync the program a la Milli Vanilli. The answers were evasive, to say the least. The upshot was, “We’ll get back to you later on that.”

Next, someone wanted to know why the Olympic program wouldn’t have original music of its own and, presumably, had to rely on such rinky-dinks as Verdi, Puccini, Leoncavallo, Bizet and Mozart. This dumbfounded the panel and prompted the baritone, Giacomo Aragal, to ask testily why no one wished to talk about the glorious program that had been put together.

It was such a good question, it terminated the news conference. Which, at that stage, probably needed termination.

Carl Lewis, world record-holder in the 100 meters, was the late Carl Lewis at his news conference Friday.

Appearing on behalf of his Japanese sponsor, Mizuno, Lewis showed up 40 minutes late in a sauna-like conference center about a quarter-mile removed from the main media headquarters.

Lewis, dressed in a striped bathrobe that made him look like a prizefighter who had left the ring, had been practicing with the relay team, although he is a reserve. Lewis kept a crowd of journalists waiting in steam-room conditions, where the temperatures were well over 100, for more than 30 minutes.

The long jumper apologized for his tardiness and blamed the Barcelona traffic.

“When they tell you it will take 15 minutes here, they mean it can be anywhere from that to two hours,” he said.

Still, it was the second time in two days he had been late for a news conference. The other had been at his hotel, where he was more than an hour late.

Lewis’ march through Barcelona has been laden with as many mishaps as the Olympic trials in New Orleans last month.

First, he left his wallet at the accreditation desk in the airport and, when he discovered it missing, blamed pickpockets.

Next, he disapproved of his credential photograph, complaining that it made him look “haggard.”

Old hands at passport photos agreed he should be glad that’s all it did, but the Spanish officials recommended that, he make do with the likeness. It is not, after all, going to hang in the Prado with the Goyas.