14/15 Season: Don Giovanni, Tosca, Semele, and Ariadne auf Naxos

Yes, it's true! Seattle Opera's 2014/15 season will take you from the mouth of hell to the gateway to paradise; from the top of Castel Sant'Angelo to the house of the wealthiest man in Seattle, crossing "O'er Scythian hills to the Mæotian lake" (as Stephanie Blythe will sing as Juno in the Seattle Opera premiere of Handel's Semele). We hope you'll come with us on an incredible operatic journey, with operas from three centuries and three different languages! Our season will feature your favorite stars--Greer Grimsley, Ms. Blythe, Lawrence Brownlee, Sarah Coburn, Kate Lindsey, Christiane Libor, and will include our own productions of Don Giovanni, Tosca, Semele, and Ariadne auf Naxos.

Ailish Tynan (Zerlina) and Mariusz Kwiecien (Don Giovanni) in Seattle Opera’s 2007 Don Giovanni.
Bill Mohn photo

Kicking things off is Mozart’s multifaceted portrait of an unrepentant Casanova: Don Giovanni. Since first fascinating audiences at its 1787 premiere, this masterpiece continues to be opera’s ultimate cautionary tale about the human cost of unbridled lust. French bass Nicolas Cavallier returns to Seattle as the dangerously charming title character. Lawrence Brownlee, Seattle Opera’s Artist of the Year for 2008, returns for his first mainstage Mozart role at Seattle Opera as Don Ottavio. Elizabeth Caballero and Christine Brandes share the role of Donna Elvira, with Erin Wall and Alexandra LoBianco making their Seattle Opera debuts as Donna Anna. Gary Thor Wedow conducts a stylish production, first created by Seattle Opera in 2007. Chris Alexander directs, with costumes by Marie-Therese Cramer and sets by Robert Dahlstrom.

Lisa Daltirus (Tosca) and Greer Grimsley (Baron Scarpia) in Seattle Opera’s 2008 Tosca.
Rozarii Lynch photo

In January 2015 comes Tosca, Puccini’s crowd-pleasing masterpiece about a fiery diva, an idealistic painter, and a corrupt police chief. Two stellar sopranos, Ausrine Stundyte (opening night) and Mary Elizabeth Williams (alternate cast), return to Seattle to sing the title role; Stundyte wowed Seattle as Cio-Cio-San in 2012, and Williams won Artist of the Year for her Serena in Porgy and Bess in 2011. The production also stars tenor Stefano Secco as Mario Cavaradossi and features the return of Seattle favorite and Artist of the Year winner (for Wotan in the 2005 Ring) Greer Grimsley as the power-mad Baron Scarpia. The production, which features the impressive sets and sumptuous costumes of Rome in 1800, will be directed by Jose Maria Condemi.

Stephanie Blythe as Juno at Covent Garden
Bill Cooper, photo

Next, Handel’s sensuous and sparkling charmer, Semele, comes to Seattle Opera for the first time. An unsophisticated but ambitious young woman leaves her origins behind in an attempt to enter the rarified realm of the “beautiful people.” Seattle Opera’s elegant, all-new production stars the incomparable mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe, Artist of the Year winner for 2009, as Juno, the goddess bent on teaching the interloper a lesson. Making their Seattle Opera debuts are tenor Alek Shrader as Jupiter, Juno’s philandering husband, and soprano Brenda Rae as Semele, the vain mortal woman he loves. John Del Carlo returns in the double role of Cadmus and Somnus. Seattle Opera Young Artist alumni Dana Pundt, Theo Lebow and Deborah Nansteel return in the alternate cast. Tomer Zvulun directs this Seattle Opera premiere, which features scenery designed by Erhard Rom and costumes by Vita Tzykun. Gary Thor Wedow returns to conduct.

Jane Eaglen (Ariadne), Jane Giering-DeHaan (Zerlina), Philip Cutlip (Harlekin), Seth Malkin (Truffaldino), William Saetre (Brighella), and Steven Goldstein (Scaramuccio) in Seattle Opera’s 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos.
Rozarii Lynch photo

The season concludes with the return of Seattle Opera’s hit production of Richard Strauss’s Ariadne Auf Naxos, which amazed audiences at its premiere with a minute-long sequence of indoor fireworks. Kate Lindsey (Artist of the Year winner for 2010) as the high-strung Composer and Sarah Coburn as the flirtatious Zerbinetta find that true love really does have a transformative effect. Sarah Larsen and debuting soprano Haeran Hong sing these roles in the second cast. Soprano Christine Libor returns as Prima Donna/Ariadne, with Marcy Stonikas taking the role in the alternate cast. Tenors Arnold Rawls and Ric Furman, as Tenor/Bacchus, give the abandoned Ariadne a new reason to live. Lawrence Renes conducts and Chris Alexander directs a production which won him the Artist of the Year Award for 2004, with sets by Robert Dahlstrom and costumes by Cynthia Savage and Bruno Schwengl.

Final scene from Seattle Opera’s 2004 Ariadne auf Naxos.
Rozarii Lynch photo

“Moving from one of Handel’s greatest operas to Richard Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos, with casts including some of your favorite singers, the 2014/15 season should be one to remember,” said Speight Jenkins. “Although the season has been planned and cast by me, it will be produced by Aidan Lang. I am confident that you will see and enjoy his managerial hand.”

Learn more about the 2014/15 season HERE.

Meet Our Singers: JENNIFER ZETLAN, Gilda

Simply put, soprano Jennifer Zetlan is a remarkable storyteller. Here at Seattle Opera, the Julliard graduate has flown through the air as one of the Rhine Daughters in this summer’s Ring, and captivated the audience while crashing a plane into the Pacific Ocean as the Flier in Amelia. Most recently, she’s taken our breath away in her debut role as the cursed jester’s daughter Gilda in Rigoletto. In one scene, she hits the highest and most difficult notes of an aria with ease, all the while laying on her back, wistfully looking up into the air as she longs for the “name engraved on her heart.” Zetlan’s takeaway from performing this part for the first time” “I want to sing it many more times!”     

The New York Times described you as “singing actress.” What do you make of that designation?

That’s my favorite thing that anyone has ever said about me. That’s how I think about myself as well. I actually started off as an actor and wanted to be on Broadway before I found opera. I like to think that I perform in opera to tell a story.

Why did you choose classical singing rather than musical theater?

I find the music more interesting in opera. I love that now I get to be both a musician as well as an actor; making it work together—they go hand-in-hand.  

Jennifer Zetlan as Gilda and Hyung Yun as Rigoletto.
Elise Bakketun photo

Tell me about the difference in vocal techniques with musical theater versus opera. I often hear people generalize that one of them is “healthy” singing and the other one is “unhealthy.” What does this mean?

As a rule, musical theater singing doesn’t have to be unsafe. Opera singers have to use their breath in a different way; they have to be able to sing without any amplification. Basically, the only way to do that is to use physics to your advantage by producing a sound with good brightness that cuts across the orchestra and across the house. On Broadway, that’s not their concern. Most always, they’re miked. They don’t want to be singing hard on their voices; they want to use their voices as an acting tool.   

As a successful opera artist, you’re traveling all the time. How do you make that work as the mother of a 2-year-old?

I don’t know; I’m still figuring it out. When I got to Seattle Opera, I settled into the role of Gilda first with staging and rehearsals before my husband and daughter joined me. Right now, Katarina is still young enough that she can come with me; but it will be different in the future. As both a parent and an artist, I am constantly reexamining what I want from my life.

What’s it like to sing in Italian?

I mostly sing in English, German and a little Russian, so it’s nice to come back to Italian; it feels so pure.

Jennifer Zetlan as Gilda.
Elise Bakketun photo

Is Gilda a victim or does she have some responsibility?

Is there a third choice? She’s a little bit of a victim because of her father’s intensity. But she’s also sort of willful, she comes back to save everybody. In the end, she takes the responsibility.

What’s it like to play Gilda?

I like the back-and-forth of her. She’s been so cloistered all her life, yet also has a curiosity about the world. I like exploring the boundary of that. As she grows, there’s this arc to her character –she becomes a woman by accident, and it changes her.

Why is Rigoletto worth seeing?

It’s aesthetically beautiful, for one. It’s also a classic opera experience: big in emotion, very moving—it’s important to experience that in your lifetime.  

Meet Our Singers: SARAH LARSEN, Maddalena

Mezzo-soprano Sarah Larsen loves being the servant, the best friend, the supporting character: It’s certainly less stressful than being the soprano or the tenor who has to carry the entire show.  “I’m the one who says, ‘I’m going to help you, then I’m going away to regroup backstage,’" she says jokingly. But that doesn't mean Larsen doesn't stand out. Quite the contrary, the former Seattle Opera Young Artist seems to garner attention wherever she goes, making even smaller roles sparkle. For her role as Maddalena, the sister who helps her assassin brother by seducing the prey, she earned praise from The Seattle Times, who wrote that she “made a terrific Maddalena, rich-voiced and opulently sultry as she succumbed to the Duke." Catch this rising star singing next as The Secretary in the The Consul, a mid-century suspense story as a woman searches for a better life for her family. Performance dates are February 22 - March 7.    

What’s it like playing a naughty character like Maddalena versus a virtuous one (Suzuki in Madama Butterfly)?

Normally, as the supporting character, I help people. This is obviously different from Maddalena who’s a total firecracker. With blonde hair, usually I’m not everyone’s first choice for roles like this or like Carmen. This time, when I heard they were making Maddalena blonde I thought, ‘Maybe I’ve got something I can work with.’ I've discovered that when you’re playing a sexy character, you just have to be confident and make strong decisions.

What’s Maddalena’s costume like?

It’s awesome; I love it! It’s definitely different from how I am used to portraying Maddalena, who is usually in a gypsy skirt and no shoes. In this production I am wearing a long pencil skirt with a giant slit, silk seamed stockings and cute black heels. It’s definitely changed my physicality; I have to rely on my height and creating long lines; I can’t be grounded like I normally am when Maddalena’s barefoot. The costume is revealing but constructed so beautifully I always feel secure.   

 

Sarah Larsen as Maddalena.
Elise Bakketun photo

Why do you prefer the supporting character?

These roles tend to fit my voice really well. Plus, they are often more enjoyable for me and less stressful.  

Prior to Rigoletto, you just sang the role of Stéphano in Roméo et Juliette with Des Moines Metro Opera. Do you like playing a boy?

I love being a boy. It’s interesting because when I was singing a “trouser role” as an undergrad, I instantly felt my lower body adjust to proper singer alignment. It’s much easier to feel the floor, to feel centered and grounded. Boys in general take up a lot of space whereas women tend to be apologetic about the space they use. It's easy for me to find confidence in my body when I'm playing a boy.

What would be your dream role to sing?

As a mezzo, I’m supposed to say Carmen. I don’t know if I’ll ever really be ready for that role. Of course, I would jump at the chance for that part, but I think you really need to know yourself and your voice to portray that character well.  I’d definitely love to do a Suzuki or Charlotte again.

You’ve gone from the life of a traveling opera artist to one with a home base. What’s it like being a Seattleite?

I haven’t had a home in six years; everything I owned fit into my car. Now, I’m paying consistent rent for the first time. I really like living in one place and being able to do things like look at paint colors. Now, I hate having to leave my lovely little place! Living in Capitol Hill is so much fun, it kind of feels like a small, safe New York City. I also feel like I’m living in an episode of Portlandia sometimes. I love that I can walk to rehearsal or to Pike Place Market.

As an artist, how do you cope with an instrument (your voice) that changes over time? 

As a singer in my late 20s, I am now trying to become as technically solid as possible, so that I can have a solid foundation to rely on in my 30s, as my voice continues to mature. After pregnancy or going through menopause, many women experience a lot of vocal changes: voices often become richer or thinner and your vocal range can expand or decrease. It's important to be able to rely on a consistent vocal technique, so that I can face the challenges of getting older with a good "tool kit."

What composer do you love to sing the most?

I love Mozart. It’s never easy, but when you get it, it’s magic. I know that sounds cheesy, but it just works.

What should audiences pay attention to when they watch Maddalena and her brother Sparafucile (ak.a. you and bass Andrea Silvestrelli) in Rigoletto?

Pay attention to their relationship as brother and sister: Who thinks they’re in charge? Who’s actually in charge? Also, the Act 3 quartet in our production isn't you're typical "park and bark" staging, there are a lot of interesting dynamics being explored, both dramatically and musically.

From left: Marco Vratogna as Rigoletto, Nadine Sierra as Gilda, Francesco Demuro
as The Duke and Sarah Larsen as Maddalena.
Elise Bakketun photo

Director LINDA BROVSKY and Lighting Designer THOMAS HASE Explain the Fascist Imagery in our “Rigoletto”

When the curtain went up on opening night of Rigoletto, the audience gasped at the lovely costumes and festive party atmosphere—such a contrast from the doom-laden music of the overture, with its premonition of Rigoletto’s curse. The production is set in Mantua, Italy, the location where Verdi (bullied around by Austrian censors at the Venice premiere in 1851) set it; but our team has updated the action to the 1930s. Last week I had a chance to ask the creative team a little about this period and the imagery they’ve used to locate it in time.

JD: Linda, what are the projections we see in this Rigoletto?

LB: Actual Italian fascist imagery from the 1930s. When we developed this production, Tom Hase and I scoured all sorts of sources, from the public library to ebay, looking for imagery on fascist publications, posters, magazines, even a theater playbill. We used imagery we found to create the projections you see throughout the show, to bring us into the world of fascist Italy.

JD: The first image we see, during the Prelude, looks like a bundle of sticks.

LB: Yes, that’s a fasces; that’s a Latin word for a bound bundle of wooden rods, sometimes including an axe blade emerging. That’s where the word “Fascist” comes from. The idea is, it’s easy to break one stick, but hard to split a fasces; so, individually we are powerless, but united and bound together, we are powerful. That image was worn in Fascist lapel pins, and seen in medals and coins in Italy in the 1930s.

Next, we see a head of Mussolini, who was the creator of Fascism and the figurehead of the Fascist regime. Mussolini, who was a megalomaniac, loved visual imagery and the artistry of image. Whereas Hitler had a uniform, Mussolini had about fifty. Even in Fascism, the Italians were the cutting edge in fashion! Mussolini also hired major artists and illustrators to create the symbols and images and literature that romanticized Fascism. For instance, the skull with the sword in its teeth was an image of OVRA, the secret police.

In our production you’ll see characters giving the Fascist salute, with its stench of antisemitism. That’s not just a German thing. Mussolini banned handshakes, believe it or not; everyone was supposed to give that Fascist salute upon greeting each other.

We’ve also drawn on the artists patronized by Mussolini. For example, you see the portrait of the Duke in the style of Tamara de Lempicka (the Marquis d’Afflito). Lempicka’s work was considered cutting-edge and a departure from the classic style of the previous regime. The Italians were highly into art deco and the cutting edge of European realism of the time period.

Nadine Sierra (Gilda) sees the painting her poor young "Gualtier Maldè" is having done of himself, based on Tamara de Lampicka's painting of the Marquis d'Afflito
Elise Bakketun, photo

JD: Like the Nazis and the Soviets, they weren’t so much into abstract art—they liked the clear messages you get with realistic images, or images based in realism.

TH: Yes, and don’t forget, Mussolini started out as a writer and owner of a newspaper and Hitler started life as a painter! These guys understood how powerfully you can influence people with a clear message, mass-produced. A spoonful of visual sugar makes the message go down; you combine a strong image with a few carefully chosen words. If you create an image with great artistry, it becomes palatable to the average citizen. Say your message loudly enough, and eventually it will become fact, whether it’s true or not.

The “Little Hunchback” of Verdi, Hugo, and Shakespeare

Today's post is by Rob McClung, Seattle Opera's Community Programs Manager. Rob will be audio-describing today's matinee performance of Rigoletto for visually-impaired patrons; contact an usher if you'd like a headset.

The image of Verdi we have come to know best—that of the old man with a farmer’s cap and a twinkling eye—aligns with the self-image he carved in his correspondence: a simple man from the country, one who never professed erudition in lofty matters of philosophy or aesthetics. Verdi eschewed theory in favor of intuition, and when it came to operatic composition, he proudly followed his theatrical sensibilities.

Never did he feel his intuition was more on target than when he discovered the character of Triboulet in Victor Hugo’s drama Le Roi s’amuse. It is a joy to read Verdi’s correspondence from the early months of 1850 because his enthusiasm is positively infectious. Take, for example, a letter of May: “Oh, Le Roi s’amuse is the greatest subject and perhaps the greatest drama of modern times. Triboulet is a creation worthy of Shakespeare!!!” Hugo’s hunchback lit a flame in Verdi’s heart. Never before or after was Verdi so inspired by a single character, a character he described as outwardly ugly and ridiculous, but inwardly impassioned and full of love.

Americans know Victor Hugo (left) as the novelist of Les Misérables and The Hunchback of Notre Dame; his prolific output of poetry, drama, and critical writings are less known in this country. Yet once we thumb through the pages of Hugo’s dramatic work, we see why Verdi invoked Shakespeare in his comparison, for Triboulet was inspired by the very characters Hugo found in the works of Shakespeare. In their reverence for the Bard, Verdi and Hugo were kindred spirits.

Verdi claimed his admiration of Shakespeare extended from boyhood, and he affectionately referred to Shakespeare as “Papa” in conversation and in correspondence. It is said that two copies of the complete works remained constant bedside companions: the Italian translation of Carlo Rusconi (prose) and that of Giulio Carcano (prose and verse). His love of Shakespeare led Verdi to adapt Macbeth for the theater in 1847, a love that lit without ever having seen a Shakespeare play performed: Verdi’s first experience of Shakespeare in the theater came shortly after Macbetto’s premiere. He was 34 years old.

Shakespeare became extremely popular in Europe in the early nineteenth-century, and Verdi and Hugo were among the many artists of the Romantic generation who saw his works as models for contemporary drama, alternatives to the Neoclassical dramatic tradition that dominated the eighteenth-century. Hugo was highly critical of the ideals and aesthetics that governed Neoclassical drama, and his opinions made their way into lengthy prefaces of his dramas such as Cromwell (1827), in which he encouraged writers to take after Shakespeare by dramatizing subjects inspired from nature—from the world around us in all its imperfections. Hugo (and Verdi) admired Shakespeare’s ability to deftly combine the comic and the tragic to contrast pure and graceful characters such as Ophelia and Desdemona alongside characters such as Polonius and Iago, men who embraced passion or vice; who were greedy, sensuous, or hypocritical. Hugo quipped, “The beautiful has but one type, the ugly has a thousand.” Verdi agreed, and strove in his own work to create a dramaturgy more akin to that of Shakespeare’s. By so doing, he hoped to circumvent the monotonous, formulaic dramatic schemes of his Italian contemporaries.

Yet this desire to see “the comic and the terrible” in one and the same drama was not shared by everybody: Théophile Gautier described the ambivalence French audiences felt towards works that mingled the comic and tragic in his review of the Paris premiere of Schiller’s Kabale und Liebe (the source play for Verdi’s Luisa Miller, written just prior to Rigoletto): “strident laughter which all at once gets entwined with the shock of exalted passions has something about it that still astonishes [our audiences].”

Hugo’s concerns went beyond elements of plot or subject; the representation of reality equally occupied his thoughts. He faulted Neoclassical drama for concerning itself solely with ideal subjects and eschewing those taken from nature. Yet to write what was “real” did not mean to make a true copy of everyday life. Hugo distinguished between two types of reality: that which accorded to art and that which accorded to nature. He invoked Hamlet when he called upon his colleagues to hold a mirror up to nature, but emphasized that in a simple reflection color and light are lost: “...drama must be a concentrating mirror, which, instead of weakening, concentrates and condenses the colored rays, which makes of a mere gleam a light, and a light a flame.” Verdi echoed this advice in a letter to Arrigo Boito during their adaptation of Othello:

Copying from what is real may be a good thing, but inventing what is real is better, much better. There seems to be a contradiction in these words, ‘invent what is real,’ but ask Papa. It is possible that Papa had come across somebody like Falstaff, but it is unlikely he ever met anyone as evil as Iago, and never, ever angels like Cordelia, Imogen, Desdemona, etc., etc., and yet they are so real! To copy from what is real may be a good thing, but it is photography. It is not painting.

So how did Verdi “paint” Rigoletto, rather than merely “photographing” him? In opera, we must delve into both the libretto and the score to understand how a composer and librettist handle musical characterization. It is not unlike the assembly of a collage: each musical number serves as a slip of paper that reveals one aspect, but with each subsequent musical number, something new is revealed, a new brushstroke touches the canvas. Stand closely to the image, and one might see a series of abstract shapes. Take a few steps back, and the meaning of the whole becomes clear. E.M. Forster described characters in literature as either flat or round; examining a character like Rigoletto is more akin to observing each individual side of a diamond.

Rigoletto’s material ranges from acerbic jibes to heartbreaking, lyrical phrases of sincerity. When we first meet him, he is the embittered tutor in vice to the Duke, a viper who lashes with his tongue. No one in the court is spared Rigoletto’s belittling, including the Count Monterone, who lays on Rigoletto “the father’s curse.” During their exchange, Rigoletto mimics the Count: his vocal material lies in the same tessitura as Monterone’s and employs similar repeated rhythms and notes—most significantly middle C. Our view of Rigoletto changes in the subsequent scene between him and his daughter Gilda: here, an additional brushstroke adds a different color to the portrait. Rigoletto is not the same person when he is with his daughter, so Verdi composes distinctive musical material: his “Deh, non parlate al misero” is a beautiful and fleeting moment of tenderness that shows Rigoletto reflecting on the memory of his late wife. The music expresses his vulnerability, his sentimentality and his tender love for the woman who loved a man so “Solo, difforme, povero” (alone, deformed and poor). There is no trace of his occupation as court jester here. As the drama unfolds, Rigoletto’s character further develops, culminating in his physical and spiritual breakdown at “Cortigianni, vil razza dannata,” an aria in which Rigoletto expresses rage, weepy waywardness, and honest appeals of mercy from the Duke’s courtiers. It is here where, despite all of his faults, my heart goes out to him. This is where one hears the passion and love that Verdi saw in “his little hunchback.”

Rigoletto was always the opera for which Verdi had a soft spot—and I think it is because he felt most closely allied to Hugo and Shakespeare during its composition. Rigoletto certainly feels like watching a play. Each time I have the opportunity to see it in performance I think of the enthusiasm that Verdi held for his title character, an inspiration that, like some airy spirit, must have made its way into the score itself, for when I listen to Rigoletto, I hear not only the music: I hear Verdi’s heart beating in every measure.

--Rob McClung

Meet Our Singers: MARCO VRATOGNA, Rigoletto

Marco Vratogna waited twelve years to take on his dream role. Verdi’s tormented jester demands everything a performer can bring to the stage, including drama of Shakespearean depth and complexity, and Vratogna is ready for the challenge. He first sang Rigoletto in San Francisco in 2012, not long after he made his Seattle Opera debut singing Roman General Ezio in Attila. Now he returns to Verdi’s masterpiece, eager to plunge into what he considers the ‘perfect’ opera. We spoke (in Italian and English) just before rehearsal the other day.

It has been a busy travel season for much of your Rigoletto cast. Several of you are Italian, and have come to Seattle from overseas.
Yes, before beginning rehearsals in December I was in Naples, singing Aida. From Seattle I’ll go to Frankfurt, to sing Puccini’s Edgar in concert, then to Torino for Tosca, then back to Frankfurt for La fanciulla del West.

Edgar! That’s an opera that never gets done in the United States. Is there a good baritone role for you there?
Yes, I sing Frank, a young man from a small town, a soldier, in love with Tigrana, the mezzo soprano. She loves Edgar, the tenor, who learns, over the course of the story, that she’s not a good person.

Is it a tragedy?
Yes, the soprano, Fidelia, dies at the end. It’s an opera “non troppo bella,” as we say (not too beautiful); it isn’t Tosca or Fanciulla del West. I sang the world premiere of the original four-act version, at Puccini’s home in Torre del Lago.

Marco Vratogna as Ezio in Attila, Seattle Opera 2012
Elise Bakketun, photo

Perhaps it’s something like Ezio in Attila—an unusual role which you’ve also done with success at several theaters. According to the Huffington Post, who spoke with you when you sang your first Rigoletto in San Francisco, Rigoletto is your dream role. Why?
Because it’s a perfect opera. On paper, in the score, I believe Verdi expressed everything perfectly, every detail of the music, the story, the characters, the relationships. Everything is perfect.

Marco Vratogna as Rigoletto
Elise Bakketun, photo

The perfect Verdi baritone part.
Yes, some operas call for a buffo baritone, or a lyric baritone, or a dramatic baritone. This role is everything. It’s perfect. I’ve waited 12 years to sing this role.

You’re reminding me of Shakespeare actors who wait until they’ve had a bit more experience before taking on some of the great, mature roles—Macbeth, King Lear.
Yes. Verdi’s operas have much in common with Shakespeare’s plays. It’s not just about singing—these operas call for great actors. People who can act with the voice.

Marco Vratogna as Rigoletto and Nadine Sierra as Gilda
Elise Bakketun, photo

Do you find there’s one moment in Rigoletto that’s more difficult than the rest?
No. From beginning to the end, it’s all difficult. Some baritones might say, “The hardest part is the lyric duet with Gilda in the second scene, “Ah, veglia o donna.” That demands a great deal of sustained, powerful, beautiful singing. But I don’t think one part of the opera is harder and another part easier. It’s difficult from beginning to end. It’s easy to find a characteristic sound for a character, an opera; it’s hard to find the inside perspective, to make the character real, to bring him to life. To find the truth of the character in every single word, from beginning to end, never losing the tension. Assuming you have the right voice, you should be able to sing the opera. What’s hard is to stay in the scene, focused, commanding the attention of everyone in the theater from beginning to end. As Rigoletto, you sing a great many lines. And the audience already knows the story. The challenge is to get them to pay attention to the subtle details. To the infinite range of the characters’ thoughts.

Marco Vratogna as Rigoletto and Nadine Sierra as Gilda
Elise Bakketun, photo

What becomes of Rigoletto after the opera?
That’s when he becomes a man. We were talking about whether or not he is a coward. At the end, he’s lost his daughter, he’s alone in the world. He’s no longer a jester—he can’t go back to the court. He’s no longer a father. That’s where I believe he truly becomes a man. A coward would kill himself at that point. To continue to live—that demands true character. That takes a man.

Meet Our Singers: ANDREA SILVESTRELLI, Sparafucile

Seattle’s Ring audience was deeply impressed by the rich performance of Italian bass Andrea Silvestrelli, who sang the gentle giant Fasolt and the brutish Hunding this summer (and in 2009). His voice, strong and craggy as a mountain range; his charismatic, ursine presence; and his intimidating laugh added much to those performances. Now he returns for Rigoletto, singing in his own native language for the first time, in one of his favorite roles: Sparafucile, the thug hired by Rigoletto to avenge his daughter’s lost honor. I spoke with Silvestrelli recently, about his career and about this remarkable character, which he has sung 150 times.

Andrea, where is home?
My home is Ancona, in central Italy.

That’s the home of Franco Corelli, no?
Corelli, Benianimo Gigli, Mario del Monaco, Renata Tebaldi, Gina Cigna...everybody! There was a very strong teacher there, named Arturo Melocchi, leading what they called “la scuola del muggito”—the sound a cow makes [demonstrates: “Moo!”] The technique is based on making that “ooo” sound at the back of the vocal apparatus. All these singers—not Gigli, because he sang some thirty years before—had the same teacher. The school was very famous at the time.

And did you study with these people?
My first teacher, Alfio Rosati, was in the school with Del Monaco, in the class with Melocchi, and he taught me this method. For me, it’s quite natural—I’m a big guy with a big neck!

I like that, suola del muggito. We hear something like that cattle-lowing sound when you sing that amazing low F, repeating your name: “Sparafucil...”
[Laughs]

Andrea Silvestrelli (Hunding) laughs after killing Siegmund (Stuart Skelton), cradled as he dies by Wotan (Greer Grimsley) at the end of Die Walküre Act Two
Elise Bakketun, photo

What is your favorite Italian theater to sing in?
Honestly, the situation in Italy now is very difficult. I started to work in the States in 2000, and now I’d say that Chicago and San Francisco are my main houses. For me one very special theater in Italy is Torino. I sang my first Wagner there. And the best experience I’ve ever had in opera was there, The Devils of Loudun by Penderecki.

Sung in Italian?
No, in German and Latin. I sang the role of Father Barré, I was an exorcist, and did a real exorcism.

Cool! And it sounds like you were the good guy, for once! Do deep basses such as yourself ever play the good guy?
No.

You’ve also sung Reimann’s Lear and Pizzetti’s Assassinio nella cattedrale...several more recent operas.
Yes, in Torino. At that time in 2000, all Italy was participating in the great Giubileo, a year-long celebration of the Catholic church. But in Torino our maestro, Claudio Desderi, programmed a series of operas against the church: Pizzetti’s opera on “Murder in the Cathedral,” a struggle between the church and power, with no winners, everybody loses; and Penderecki’s The Devils of Loudun, which involves an illicit relationship between a priest and a nun and a power struggle in the church. All year long, the operas were like this: Faust, Mefistofele. And Torino is a great city, I think one of the best cities in Italy.

It’s interesting that you’ve done some contemporary works there. You seem to come to Seattle just for good old Wagner and Verdi!
I love doing modern pieces, it’s so easy to relate to them. But I don’t do a lot of contemporary stuff, simply because today contemporary operas are mostly American and English, which means you need to speak English very well!

Have you sung in English?
No...I’ve done Sarastro and Osmin before where we sang in German but did the dialogue in English. But it wasn’t easy for me...one critic said my accent was like mafioso!

How did you get involved in the famous Turandot at Beijing’s Forbidden City?
That production originated in Florence, at Maggio Musicale. Zhang Yimou was the director, and Zubin Mehta the conductor. I sang Timur, in the second of three casts. In the video, I sing Timur’s line in Act Two, because the first cast bass was not feeling well the day that was filmed.

Let’s talk about Sparafucile. Speight Jenkins finds something a bit quirky or comic about Sparafucile’s sense of honor—he is at first outraged when his sister suggests he murder Rigoletto instead of the Duke.
Actually, Sparafucile and Gilda are the only ones in this cast with real character. Yes, later he changes his mind because his sister threatens to wake up the Duke and ruin everything. But it’s true, he’s a killer with honor. You know, in Italy, in the mafia—maybe not now, but when they started—a lot of people were like Sparafucile. A killer with honor.

In Rigoletto plot summaries, sometimes they use an Italian word used to describe Sparafucile: they call him “a bravo,” as if that were a job. (Costume design for "a bravo," left, from www.internetculturale.it)
Yes, ‘bravo’ of course means ‘good job’ or ‘well done.’ It became a word for a person who you gave them lots of things to do, and then you could say ‘bravo’ to them. A servant. But in this case, we’re talking about ex-soldiers, people who had been at war. Good people become bad when they go to war; after you’ve killed one person, it’s easier to kill another. So these people can do any job necessary.

How many times have you sung this role?
150.

Wow. Do you get tired of it?
No. It’s a great, great opera, and it never fails to move me.

Andrea Silvestrelli (Fasolt) in this summer's Das Rheingold

One last question—I’m speaking to you on December 31, 2013, the last day of this bicentennial year for Verdi and Wagner. You’ve sung both for us—do you prefer one or the other?
I love both. They’re very different: one writes about men, the other about God. I love all kinds of music, and want to sing everything. I’ve done 90 roles, and my dream is to sing 150. I have three dream roles: Assassinio nella cattedrale again, Don Quichotte, and Hans Sachs. I can’t do Hans Sachs—my German isn’t good enough yet!

We’re very excited to hear you singing in your native language with this Rigoletto!

Finalists Announced for International Wagner Competition

Yesterday, we announced the singers who will compete for $60,000 in prizes at for Seattle Opera’s popular International Wagner Competition this summer, 7:30 pm August 7, 2014 at McCaw Hall:

Ric Furman, tenor
Suzanne Hendrix, mezzo-soprano
Roman Ialcic, bass baritone
Kihun Yoon, baritone
Tamara Mancini, soprano
Kevin Ray, tenor
Issachah Savage, tenor
Marcy Stonikas, soprano

The alternates are:

David Danholt, tenor
Helena Dix, soprano

“Our auditions turned up ten remarkable young Wagnerians,” said Seattle Opera’s General Director Speight Jenkins. “They will make our third International Wagner Competition a thrilling and rewarding event. We have in Sebastian Lang-Lessing an exciting new conductor for Seattle Opera. I look forward to hearing the competition and to the decisions made by our distinguished panel of judges.”

The competition is part of a celebratory weekend which also includes a concert (featuring 15 of our favorite singers) and dinner in honor of Speight Jenkins’ three decades at the helm of Seattle Opera.

The International Wagner Competition (also known as “Wagner Idol”) on August 7 is an all-Wagner concert conducted by Sebastian Lang-Lessing, who has extensive experience with Deutsche Oper Berlin. The singers will compete for two prizes of $25,000, to be awarded by a distinguished panel of judges. The audience and orchestra will also play an important role in the competition. Both groups will award a prize of $5,000 to their favorite artist.

This third International Wagner Competition is made possible by a generous contribution from the Nesholm Family Foundation. “Seattle Opera has brought our family its most satisfying artistic experiences,” say John and Laurel Nesholm. “We are thrilled to fund its third International Wagner Competition, which we expect will provide a springboard for several important careers. We look forward to great things from these emerging artists, and are excited that this tradition will continue.”

The judges for Seattle Opera’s third International Wagner Competition are an international group of authorities in all aspects of opera production—mezzo soprano Stephanie Blythe, who has spent five summers in Seattle singing Wagner’s Ring; Peter Kazaras stage director, tenor, and Director of Opera Studies at UCLA; Bernd Loebe, the Director of Opera Frankfurt; François Rochaix, director of Seattle Opera’s Ring from 1985 to 1995; and Stephen Wadsworth, director of Seattle Opera’s Ring from 2000 to 2013 and Director of Opera Studies for the Juilliard School.

The first International Wagner Competition was held in August 2006 and made possible by a grant from the Charles Simonyi Fund for Arts and Sciences. Mr. Jenkins created the competition to identify and recognize qualified, emerging opera singers who demonstrate clear promise of an important career in the Wagnerian repertoire. Irish soprano Miriam Murphy and English baritone James Rutherford won the competition in 2006. South African soprano Elza van den Heever and Swedish tenor Michael Weinius won the second International Wagner Competition in 2008. Since then, these four prize-winners, plus many of the other competitors, have gone on to significant artistic accomplishments at opera houses around the world.

To hear audio of the winning performances from 2006 and 2008, explore this Sound Cloud set:

Tickets (ranging from $46 to $66) for the 2014 International Wagner Competition are available online, by phone or in person. For more information, call 800.426.1619 or 206.389.7676 or visit www.seattleopera.org.

For detailed bios of the finalists, CLICK HERE. For more information about the judges and the competition, CLICK HERE. Photo, top, of Speight Jenkins announcing Elza van den Heever's victory in 2008, by Rozarii Lynch.

Meet Our Singers: HYUNG YUN, Rigoletto

A career in the opera is many things; easy is not one of them. Just ask baritone Hyung Yun. From serving in the military in his native South Korea, to now, only getting to spend four months out of the year with his wife and daughter, life as an artist has had its challenges. But, through it all, he’s sustained by his supportive family, and a passion for music passed down from his late father—a famous baritone in South Korea. As Mr. Yun prepares to make his Seattle Opera debut as Rigoletto (Jan. 12 and 24), he carries on a tradition – singing the same roles as his father.

After graduating from Seoul University, you served in the army for three years. What was that like?

Yes, in South Korea it’s mandatory – we all have to serve in the army. Thank God, I was stationed to work in the kitchen – there were always great acoustics there, a nice echo, for me to practice singing! 

Tell me more about your dad – a famous Korean baritone.

Amazingly, he sang over 63 roles. Unlike me, he didn't have a chance to truly pursue his art, and instead, often conducted at church and in school. Once, The Julliard School was actually interested in him, but my father had responsibilities in Korea (including, eventually, a family to support!). He was a very creative person. He actually didn't want me to pursue singing.

My father’s generation was actually very strong in their love of opera, but none of them really left Korea, so they weren't able to get too far in their careers. It wasn't easy to make any money.

You speak Korean and English – it’s amazing to also hear you sing in Italian.

Italy and Korea definitely have some similarities. We are both peninsulas that have been very affected by wars of the past. And, while they don’t eat a lot of spicy food, both of us love garlic. Garlic makes for a hot temper. 

 

Hyung Yun (Rigoletto) in rehearsal for Seattle Opera's "Rigoletto"
Alan Alabastro, photo

Family is important to you. How do you juggle your career with being a husband and father?

It’s so difficult, this lifestyle. I have so much appreciation for my wife. She is so devoted to our family. It’s hard for me to be gone, but this is the only way I know how to take care of my family.

You’re making your Seattle Opera debut. What do you think of us?

I truly appreciate this feeling of family here – it’s so important for the singers. Especially because many of us travel and don’t get to see our own families often.

Tell me more about your daughter.

She’s 17 now, and has such a beautiful voice. We sang a lot in church together, like O Holy Night. She loves music but doesn't like the lifestyle of an opera artist. She also plays the violin, a bit of guitar and piano.

What’s it like being in this more modern version of Rigoletto?

The music and the text are exactly the same. I tap into the same feelings when I play Rigoletto, it’s just different costumes. Of course, I have my own idea of my part, but I have to follow whatever [Director Linda Brovsky] asks for. 

What’s it like to sing Rigoletto?

It’s the dream role for all baritones. I am truly following in my father’s path. God has guided me in that way.

Hyung Yun (Rigoletto) in rehearsal for Seattle Opera's "Rigoletto"
Alan Alabastro, photo

Meet Our Singers: NADINE SIERRA, Gilda

The jester’s daughter in Rigoletto is sometimes considered a victim, or a silly dupe. But don’t suggest that to Nadine Sierra. This fiercely talented artist exudes wisdom, warmth and maturity that defy her 20-something years. Not surprisingly, she finds a certain kind of strength in the young woman she will portray on stage.

Although she’s making her Seattle Opera debut, Sierra is no stranger to the role of Gilda. When performing this same part at the Florida Grand Opera and Boston Lyric Opera, she’s been praised for her stunning features, onstage charisma, and most importantly, impressive vocal talent.

What’s new for Sierra, however, is the updated scenery, costumes and setting for Gilda. Rather than Rigoletto’s original setting in Renaissance Italy, Sierra explains her character will be preoccupied with cigarettes, chasing boys and painting her nails in this 1930s-era production.  

This is your Seattle Opera debut! Welcome.

I was excited when I got the email from my agent. Speight had reached out to me about another role a couple years ago that I felt I was too young for. I was worried that was going to be my last chance with Seattle Opera! They really take care of their artists here. I also appreciate that Speight will come into rehearsals. Not a lot of general directors do that.

I heard you are enjoying our city. What did you think of Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Nutcracker?

I fell in love with the 1986 film version of PNB’s Nutcracker. So when I went to see the show at McCaw Hall last week, I was like, ‘Why does this seem so familiar?’

You recently shared a first-place win at the international competition, Neue Stimmen. Tell me about singing in a competition versus a production.

There’s much less pressure when you’re singing in a production – well, actually it’s a different kind of pressure. You’re creating something with your colleagues rather than competing against them. I enjoy competitions because I get to travel and meet singers my own age. It’s not cut-throat; it’s usually always really enjoyable.

Nadine Sierra (Gilda) in rehearsal for Rigoletto
Alan Alabastro, photo

How do you feel about our updated version of Rigoletto set in Mussolini’s Italy?

It’s a pretty fantastic idea. In many ways, the part will be the same, except Gilda is more modern in her thinking. Also, her relationship with Giovanna, her maid, is different: Giovanna introduces Gilda to things like sex and relationships … Gilda wants to know more about that. She’s more courageous and less hesitant than in some productions.

How do you play a love-struck character like Gilda?

You have to go back to your past; to your innocent years—the first time you experienced love and being with someone.

Your mother is Portuguese and your father is Puerto Rican. How has this heritage influenced your singing career?

My [maternal] grandmother (from Lisbon in Portugal) loved to sing but wasn’t allowed to pursue it. It wasn’t considered respectable for a woman to have a career in the theater. Still, she would practice every day, playing the piano and singing, and she used to put on little performances for her family.

My grandmother didn’t speak English, and I don’t speak Portuguese, so music was how we understood one another. I got to hear my grandma sing when she was in her 80s. My mom asked her to. Even with her 80-year-old voice, she was beautiful.

 

Nadine Sierra (Gilda) in rehearsal for Rigoletto
Alan Alabastro, photo

What was your time like in San Francisco’s Merola Opera Program for young artists?

I found my West Coast family there. It was actually there that I met Riccardo Frizza [Seattle Opera Rigoletto conductor]; Marco Vratogna [Rigoletto] and Francesco Demuro [Duke of Mantua] for the first time. That experience really prepared me for the real world.

You have accomplished a lot in your career for someone under 30. Is it ever intimidating to perform with people who have many more years of experience than you?

I always feel like we’re equals. No matter how old you are, there’s always a part of you that’s not completely developed; we never stop growing and learning throughout our whole careers. Our bodies are our instruments and, as we grow older, things change. We have to switch roles, for example.

What are your goals with opera?

I want the opportunity to share what I love about music with the world. I want that chance.

One more question about your character, Gilda. Is she a victim, or does she bear some responsibility for her unfortunate fate?

She definitely has responsibility. Even though she’s kidnapped, I don’t think of her as a victim. At the end, her message is that you have to forgive people and move on. Revenge doesn’t work. She says to her father, ‘I’ll watch over you in heaven in hopes that you can calm down!’ In the end, it also shows parents how sometimes you have to sacrifice a child’s innocence in order to keep them safe. 

Nadine Sierra (Gilda) in rehearsal for Rigoletto
Alan Alabastro, photo