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the opera blog by Opera Australia, July 29, 2014 |
By Jennifer Williams |
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Jonas Kaufmann, an interview
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Jonas Kaufmann can remember the moment he knew he’d ‘made it’, in almost
filmic detail. It was the night of his Metropolitan Opera debut, and he was
standing in the wings waiting to take his solo curtain call.
Singing
Alfredo opposite Angela Gheorghiu in her signature role, Violetta in La
Traviata, Kaufmann was vividly aware that everyone had come to see her. ‘At
that time, I was a nobody in New York,’ he says.
In the glare of the
lights, he could see the audience rising to their feet to applaud him, and
his heart slipped into his stomach. His knees buckled, and before he knew it
he found himself kneeling. ‘I had to force myself to get back up. I remember
thinking “Who, me?!” It may sound trite, but that’s exactly how it felt.’
That was February of 2006, and since then, Kaufmann’s fame – and pulling
power – has sky-rocketed. He sings at the Metropolitan Opera New York, at
the Royal Opera House Covent Garden, at the Salzburg Festival and all
through Europe.
His schedule is booked six or seven years in advance,
and he can sing anything from lighter lyric roles to Puccini, Massenet and
Wagner. At 44, his career has already reached heights many tenors only dream
of.
But were it not for the intervention of his teacher, Michael
Rhodes, it might never have happened. Twenty years ago, Kaufmann was just
another lyric tenor in Saarbrücken, singing the roles he had been told to
sing: Mozart’s Tamino (The Magic Flute) and Don Ottavio (Don Giovanni).
‘I got ill very quickly, and I was unable to cope with the things I had
to sing. In the darkest moment of those years, I got hoarse during a
Parsifal performance singing the small part of the fourth squire.’
Rhodes can take the credit for ‘unearthing’ Kaufmann’s natural tone, the
tenor explains.
‘He taught me to sing with my own voice instead of
imitating the typical lyrical German tenor. “Stop manipulating your voice,”
he said to me, “just let it out!” ’
The result was a revelation,
Kaufmann says. ‘The minute I had my throat wide open in something like a
relaxed yawn, a big dark sound came out of me.’
That vast, rich sound
has become his calling but when he first heard it, it took some getting used
to. ‘In the beginning, it was like learning to drive a truck when you are
used to driving a small car.’
‘Opera is a power house, a unique sort
of magic and excitement. There is nothing like the thrill of an exciting
live performance, with all those risks, and surprises, and that special
chemistry between stage and audience; the combination of performed music,
theatre and stage design … that’s something you don’t get in any other
genre.’ – Jonas Kaufmann
Kaufmann speaks fondly of a childhood soaked
in music and opera. ‘My father had a big record collection, and it was a
sort of family tradition for my sister and me to sit on the big sofa at home
listening to symphonies and operas.’ At six years old, he saw his first live
performance of opera – Madama Butterfly – and began to dream of life as an
opera singer. ‘The dream didn’t last long,’ he says, and even when it
resurged 10 or 12 years later, he decided to pursue a ‘substantial’ career
outside of music. ‘It was clear to me that professional singing was a pretty
risky business. So I took my parents’ advice and enrolled at the University
of Munich to study mathematics.’
That only lasted a couple of
semesters. ‘I wasn’t born to be a desk jockey!’ He auditioned for a slot as
a vocal student and was accepted on the spot. ‘It took a huge amount of
courage to make the decision, and thank God I did it,’ he recalls.
Kaufmann is fiercely protective of his instrument and therefore takes great
caution in choosing his roles. In the years to come, he wants to tackle the
title roles in Verdi’s Otello, Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann and
Wagner’s notoriously difficult Tannhäuser. Also on the list is Tchaikovsky’s
Pique Dame, but for that, he laughs, ‘I would have to learn Russian!’
When critics describe Kaufmann as ‘the hottest tenor in opera’, they’re
not just talking about his voice. In interviews, reviews and publicity,
there’s a constant chatter about his ‘pin-up boy image’ and ‘film-star good
looks’. It used to drive Kaufmann crazy, and while it still doesn’t make him
happy, he’s learning to live with it. ‘It doesn’t hurt when people tell you
that they like your looks as well as your singing and acting. But as a
singer, I know what I would rather be judged on.’
So busy that he
often now performs in concerts and recitals, Kaufmann relishes the challenge
of singing opera highlights. ‘Instead of telling one story within three
hours, you tell about 10 different stories, each in a nutshell. You have to
switch every five minutes: the language, the style, the vocal colours, the
expression – everything.’
The biggest benefit of singing opera arias
in concert is that you can reach an audience that might never otherwise
attend a performance. He hopes to infect them with his singing so that they
might one day attend an entire opera performance.
‘What’s the risk?’
he asks. ‘In the worst case, you won’t come back. In the best case, it may
change your life. Opera is a power house, a unique sort of magic and
excitement. There is nothing like the thrill of an exciting live
performance, with all those risks, and surprises, and that special chemistry
between stage and audience; the combination of performed music, theatre and
stage design … that’s something you don’t get in any other genre.’
For many, opera can take on the importance of ‘daily bread’, he says. ‘Maybe
for some it’s like a drug,’ he says, quipping, ‘but it’s an utmost healthy
one!’
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