Meet our singers: ALFRED WALKER—The Villians

With a magnificent, agile bass-baritone, plus a commanding stage presence, Alfred Walker is totally unforgettable as the four nemeses in The Tales of Hoffmann. According to The Seattle Times, his performance includes singing of "showstopping quality." Dressed in blue with slick shades, he initially draws audience members in as the haughty Councilor Lindorf before taking them on a ride through the insane world of the unhinged Coppélius. As Dr. Miracle, he oozes malevolent mystery, and as the smooth-talking Dapertutto, he enslaves Giulietta with seductive prowess. We spoke with this New Orleans native, (who now calls the woods of New York’s Hudson Valley home) about his return to Seattle six years following his debut here as Orest in Elektra (2008).

What’s the challenge about playing the bad guys in The Tales of Hoffmann?
They all have to be bad, interesting, and connected by a common thread—the challenge is to find that.

Can you describe that process?
It’s both mental and physical. The villains are all crazy and off-kilter, but in different ways. You have to find how to make each character come to life physically—each character needs to walk differently and sound different, too.

Do you have a favorite among them?
Dr. Miracle. His part is the closest to what my voice does naturally in terms of range and style. But I love all of them.

Alfred Walker (Dr. Miracle), Arthur Woodley (Crespel) and Russell Thomas (Hoffmann) in The Tales of Hoffmann. 
Elise Bakketun photo

Was this part originally written for four different people to sing?
That’s a really good point. Traditionally, it was four different people; the parts are so different vocally, with a huge range and different quality required from part to part. I think the most difficult one, oddly, is also the shortest one: Dapertutto—you need a lyric baritone (I’m a bass baritone). There’s some very high singing there. For Coppélius, you have to be sure not to sing in too serious of a tone (he’s a very weird character). Lindorf is very elegant, but very arrogant. I like to think of myself as a nice guy, but you have to get used to the idea that people will see you onstage playing this character and think, “Oh my gosh, what an awful man!”

With your voice-type, do you often get cast as the villain?It depends. Villains are often lower voices, but you have to have a quality in your voice that makes you intimidating, and not every deep voice type can do that. Some lower voices are beautiful; others have more range and a variety of colors. Usually, I either play the villain or someone really strange.

Keith Jameson (Andres), Alfred Walker (Lindorf) and Leah Partridge (Stella) in The Tales of Hoffmann. 
Elise Bakketun photo

Have you come to terms with that?
Yeah, that’s how it goes.

What’s different about this production?
For one thing, the costumes are fantastic. The first day I got fitted I said, ‘Wow!’ I also love Chris Alexander’s direction, as well as all the stage magic and tricks.

Do you have to do any of those tricks?
They’re all kind of done for me. I just wave my hand, and they happen, which makes me look pretty powerful.

Alfred Walker, (Coppelius) in The Tales of Hoffmann. Elise Bakketun photo

Do you have to be over-the-top or, is there more subtlety in your approach?
Both! While these characters are over-the-top what makes them interesting is that they can change unexpectedly. You don’t know what to expect. One minute they’re calm, the next minute, they’re angry and shouting.

How do you juggle the demands of your career with family and relationships?
It’s so hard. We have pets and a lot of friends; I also have a big family in New Orleans. In the morning, I usually dedicate my time to phone calls, checking in with family and friends. Being on the West Coast, it’s easy. When I’m in Europe, it’s harder. Skype is also extremely helpful. I need to maintain these relationships; they’re part of the reason I’m doing this.

What’s your performance regime?
I think it’s important not to do anything to tip off your body that something big is coming up. I know some people who don’t eat a certain item on performance day, or they don’t talk at all. That just makes me too nervous! I need my regular routine.

What do you enjoy most about coming to Seattle?
The coffee! Also, I love the people in Seattle. You guys are different…you’re West Coast people, but different from California (and that’s a good thing!). I love how you embrace your weather here and find beauty in it. When I see people walking around without umbrellas, I put mine away, too. I want to fit in. I have my raincoat and that’s enough. I love that.

So, what’s The Tales of Hoffmann about? Everyone seems to have a slightly different answer.
I think it’s about the villains! They are Hoffmann’s demons, his shadow side. In each story, he intends to do something, but I destroy it. All of us have a shadow side, and we fight to keep it at bay, that’s part of what makes us human. Also, that’s what drives this particular opera.

Alfred Walker (Dr. Miracle) and Leah Partridge (Antonia) in The Tales of Hoffmann. 
Elise Bakketun photo

Do you have a favorite moment in the show?
When the prologue starts and the chorus comes out and starts singing before Hoffmann comes in. I love that music so much. It makes me happy.

How did you start singing?
Our college had a chorus, and a good friend of mine was interested in auditioning. You see, there were quite a few cute girls in the chorus (every time I tell this story, I’m kind of embarrassed!). I auditioned for the choirmaster, and I think I only got in because they needed lower voices. The choirmaster asked, “What voice type are you?” and I said, “A tenor!” (laughs) That’s how little I knew about music. He said, “You don’t sound like a tenor.” We started vocalizing and I started screaming. I think I sang a low C, and he said, “You’re definitely not a tenor, you belong in the bass section.” From then on, I started voice lessons with Phil Frohnmayer, a Professor of Voice at Loyola University. He said, “You don’t know how to sing at all, but I think you have a world-class voice.” When I finished with my psychology degree, I decided that I was going to pursue opera. My family thought I was nuts. Phil actually took me through years of studying. I did the Young Artists Program at The Met, but he’s been my only teacher and a real father to me.

Alfred Walker (Lindorf) in The Tales of Hoffmann..
Elise Bakketun photo 

Meet Our Singers: RUSSELL THOMAS, Hoffmann

Following his first Tales of Hoffmann performance on Sunday, Russell Thomas received a huge ovation for what the Seattle Times described as his ‘mighty tenor.’ The opera lovers of Seattle have been following Thomas since he was a Young Artist here, in 2002/03, and enjoyed his mainstage debut as Foresto in Verdi’s Attila in 2012. He spoke to us recently about the challenges of singing Hoffmann, about his passion for new American music, and about the life of an opera singer.

Russell Thomas sings Hoffmann’s Tale of Kleinzach

Have you sung this role before?
Once, in Toronto in the spring of 2012.

What was it like to learn Hoffmann for first time?
The role itself is not that difficult to learn; for me, the challenge is French diction. This was my third French role, after Gounod’s and Berlioz’s Faust, and I learned it in Canada, where French is pronounced differently from what I was taught in college. With French diction, you get a lot of different opinions. Italian and German are pretty straightforward in comparison. Long ago I learned that whoever is coaching you that day—they’re right!

What makes Hoffmann different from other roles you sing?
It’s long—probably the longest role I ever will sing. I think it’s one of the longest roles in the tenor repertory. So stamina is a great challenge—pacing it so you make sure you can get through the night without feeling tired.

Russell Thomas as Hoffmann and Leah Partridge as Giulietta in The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

What do you think this opera is about?
I think this opera is a man telling the story of his relationship with a person who has multiple sides to her personality. Sometimes she can be emotionless and cold like a doll, sometimes she can be fragile, and sometimes she can be sexy and whorish. Hoffmann is just like any of us that has ever had a relationship. Everyone has multiple sides to their personalities. I know I do. I’m not the same all the time and especially in relationships we can all be a little crazy. That’s why it’s such a relatable story. Sure, the libretto is complicated, but it’s the story of every man or woman who has experienced a tumultuous relationship.

And the other characters?
The Muse is Hoffmann’s conscience, and it depends on the production, but you could have it that nobody sees the Muse and Nicklausse but Hoffmann. And then you have the Devil. It’s a bit like the kind of cartoon where you have an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other.

Russell Thomas as Foresto in Attila at Seattle Opera, 2012
Elise Bakketun, photo

Last time you were in Seattle, we heard you sing early Verdi: Attila. And you’ve done some French Verdi: Don Carlos in Berlin. Are you more a French or an Italian tenor?
I like singing in Italian and I love the music of Verdi. I relate more to that style of music, but I’m going to be singing a lot of French repertory, especially in Canada.

What’s the difference between the French and Italian styles?
French Grand Opera requires clean lines. Think about it in terms of fashion: it’s straight lines, and you can see where the beginnings and the ends are. In Italian, the lines are a bit more blurred; you have more flexibility to adjust for your own vocal strengths.

I saw that you’ve worked with John Adams. How did that come about?
I worked with Peter Sellers on a Mozart project for about a year, touring all over the world, and Peter was doing a new opera by John Adams for a festival in Vienna and introduced me to John. John liked me and wrote a character in his opera A Flowering Tree for me. It was a huge success, and we did that opera everywhere. Then John wrote another role for me in another opera, The Gospel According to the Other Mary. I’m a big fan of new music, American music, and I think it’s incumbent on me as an American singer to promote that repertory.

Russell Thomas (Hoffmann) enters Luther’s Bar in the Prologue of The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

It can be difficult to get American audiences to embrace new works the way they do the classics.
I think it’s a question of education. In this country, we grow up with this mentality that anything from Europe is better. I think we need to spend more time, energy and money educating our audiences and letting them know that there’s great American music. It’s not going to sound like Mozart. Art grows and changes over the years, in classical exactly the same as in pop, and someone needs to teach people that.

Tell us a little about the life of an opera singer.
It can be rewarding and exciting, but also a very lonely life, living out of a suitcase and in different places all the time. I know it seems very glamorous to be onstage, and even backstage, but really it’s a very boring life! Often you can’t go out for fear of getting sick, and there’s always so much to learn. I’m working on a role in Rusalka, it’s my first time ever singing Czech, and I’m trying to stay sane by breaking up my day with House of Cards and stuff like that. Your average singer may have 15 or 16 different jobs in a season, and if you’re lucky some of them will be music you’ve sung before, which is easier.

Top to bottom: Alfred Walker (Dapertutto), Leah Partridge (Giulietta), Russell Thomas (Hoffmann) and Keith Jameson (Pitichinaccio) in The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

How did you become an opera singer?
I was a very odd kid. I’ve been in love with opera since I was 8. I heard it on the radio and I was absolutely fascinated by it, and I remember thinking, “I want to do that.” Luckily I was blessed with the ability to sing. When I was 8 I’d sing in church, and at school, and for family functions, and then I got into children’s chorus and got more involved in classical music and there it is.

Tell us a little about your family.
I’m orignally from Miami, but I currently live in Atlanta. I don’t get to see my family in Miami as often as I would like. I’m planning on adopting this year, which is a big deal. My schedule is booked well into 2018, but luckily the right situation came about: I have some free time when the baby is due. It’s something I’ve been looking forward to for a very long time, and I think you have to just jump in and take the risk.

Meet our singers: TICHINA VAUGHN, Antonia’s Mother

Not just any singer could steal the show in less than 10 minutes. But with a personality as big and a voice as astonishing as Tichina Vaughn’s, anything is possible. Normally, you’d find this American mezzo with a beautiful, dramatic sound, in Germany, where she’s created a home-base for her opera career. However, being able to travel to Seattle to do The Tales of Hoffmann is particularly meaningful to the artist, who got her first job in Seattle straight out of The Met Young Artist Development program in her 20s. As she tells it, Speight Jenkins was the first General Director to believe in her. She’s overjoyed to be here for his last performance with the company. 



You play a portrait of Antonia’s mother. That seems like an unusual role!
Initially, I didn't know what (Director Chris Alexander) was going to do with my character. In some productions, Antonia’s mother doesn't actually appear. She’s just a disembodied voice, and actually, that’s sort of how I approached the role (in the score, it just says “la voix,” or, “the voice”). I’m just an incarnation of Antonia’s mother that Dr. Miracle uses to seduce Antonia to her demise.

I hear you often play someone’s mother.
It’s funny because my daughter’s school is doing a play, and she’s playing the mother. I told her, “You’re following in my footsteps!”

How are you so awesome in this show in such a short amount of time?
All I can say is that God made me a ham. Also, I absolutely adore my job. I adore being onstage. I’ve done it my entire life, and I’ve never lost that sense of wonder. Every chance I get, I’m all in.

In this production, you’re supposed to exude “opera diva”…it doesn't seem like too far of a stretch for you, am I wrong?
(Laughs). When they told me that’s what they were going for, I said “I got it! I can definitely do that.”

I know you play a disembodied voice, but what do you know about Antonia’s mother?
The story is that Antonia’s mother was a famous opera singer, but she got sick (I suppose a heart illness or respiratory failure) and died from this illness. Unfortunately, she passes on both the gift of singing, as well as the illness, to her child.

From left: Norah Amsellem (Antonia), Tichina Vaughn (Antonia's Mother) and Nicolas Cavallier (Dr. Miracle).
Elise Bakketun photo

How does the Antonia scene relate to the larger The Tales of Hoffmann story?
It’s just like the other “tales” really: Guy meets girl. Guy loves girl. There’s an assumption of a happy ending. But it doesn't work out. Hoffmann’s first love, Olympia, is sort of a fashion trend. Antonia shows a different aspect of femininity: she’s delicate and vulnerable. Basically, Hoffmann can’t handle any type of lady. Antonia is seduced toward her own destruction, and Hoffmann has to witness all of that. There’s nothing he can do to save her.

Your roots here at Seattle Opera go way back. What do you remember about the 1992 Aida or the 1993 Don Carlos?
Both of those opportunities included roles (Amneris and Eboli, respectively) that I’ve now turned career roles. I’m just so grateful to Speight Jenkins because he was the first person who really believed in me, who took a chance on a young mezzo. This was my first real, substantial role. Auditioning for Speight was intimidating, (I knew he had that eye and that ear for great singers). At one of the Don Carlos rehearsals where i had been constantly marking a difficult aria, Speight came up to me and said, “Now look here, I know you’re nervous, but your voice is made for this, you can do it!”

Tichina Vaughnn as Amneris in the 1992 Aida. Matthew McVay photo. 

What’s it like being an American living in Germany?
I really love it. It’s not really being “An American living in Germany,” because in Europe, everything is so international. Practically every performance I’m in has people of different ethnicities. Honestly, the best part about living in Germany is that it’s in Europe. It’s where this art form originated. It’s like singing on holy ground.

What’s it been like for your daughter and son to grow up in Germany?
I coined a term to describe my kids: “Amereuopean.” They are completely culturally European, though. My son’s heart language is German. If he ever needs to say anything important to me, he always speaks in German. I’m originally from North Carolina, and recently, I took my kids to see where I grew up. We were on the highway, and they my son was like, “Mom, why are you going so slow?” The concept of a speed limit was shocking to my kids. In Germany, of course, on the Autobahn, we don’t have any limit.

What’s it like being a part of Speight’s last production?

It’s something that I’m going to reassure as a truly awesome moment in my life.

Tichina Vaughn (Antonia's Mother) in The Tales of Hoffmann. Elise Bakketun photo

Meet Our Artists: ROB D’ARC, Marionette Master

From dancing beer bottles to poofs of smoke, stretchable windows to a melting pistol, there’s a new bit of stage magic every few minutes in Seattle Opera’s The Tales of Hoffmann. Among the show’s most talked-about elements are the beautiful marionettes of Hoffmann and Giulietta, created by Rob D’Arc with Seattle Opera’s costume and prop departments. (Since our production stars both a white and a black tenor, Rob created two different Hoffmann puppets, one for William Burden’s performances and one for those of Russell Thomas; and since Giulietta has a quick offstage costume change, he made two Giulietta puppets, and the costume shop created miniature versions of her two costumes.) I spoke with Rob the other day at his stall in Pike Place Market, where you can purchase "Pop-Up" puppets from his company “Planet of the Puppets.”

Rob D’Arc at “Planet of the Puppets”

How long have you been making puppets?
34 years. I loved puppets when I was a kid, and apprenticed starting in 1980 with a French company, Le Marmoset, a husband-and-wife team. I was kind of like their adopted son. I learned more in those few years than I possibly could have in any other situation.

Did you learn about marionettes with them?
They worked mostly with hand-puppets. One of my jobs was to adapt their scripts, because they performed with thick French accents and we could turn that to our advantage. For instance, one time we were doing an undersea show, about penguins, and he would say, “ze Souse Pole.” So for the set, I painted a sign with that spelling: “Souse Pole”—and when the curtain went up for that scene, we would get a laugh.

Nicolas Cavallier (Dapertutto), puppets Hoffmann and Giulietta, and Kate Lindsey (Nicklausse) in Seattle Opera’s The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

Have you been involved with operas other than The Tales of Hoffmann?
No, although I’ve worked with ballet—created masks for The Nutcracker (another Hoffmann story!). Ten years ago, when this Tales of Hoffmann was first created, Seattle Opera was calling around to various local puppeters, and Dimitri Carter of Carter Family Marionettes recommended me. I think what really sealed the deal was that when Chris Alexander, the director of Hoffmann, was talking about all the things he wanted the puppets to do—drop her fan, dab at her eyes with a handkerchief, gesture with a mirror, paddle a miniature gondola—I was brutally honest and told him, “Let’s be realistic, you’re asking an opera singer, who is not trained as a puppeteer, to operate two marionettes, one in either hand; you may need to scale back our expectation of what’s possible.” I think he appreciated my honesty!

Nicolas Cavallier and Rob D’Arc backstage at The Tales of Hoffmann
Alan Alabastro, photo

How hard is it to teach a non-puppeter to operate a marionette?
When I designed the puppets for Hoffmann I wanted to keep them very simple, so that the only thing the singer has to worry about is balance. If you’re not careful about their posture, they slant a bit to the side; as Nicolas Cavallier said, “It looks like he’s skiing.”

The miniature stars of The Tales of Hoffmann
Alan Alabastro, photo

So most marionettes don’t have the little thumb-operated controls for the legs?
That’s a “Pepito Control,” to operate the legs with just a rocking movement of the thumb; that was designed by Jim Rose, probably 25 or 30 years ago. (His mother and father designed Howdy Doody, for you puppet fans!) Our puppets also have extender-bars, to make the arms go further, because they are tall puppets with short strings. And at the back, instead of a string it’s got a piano-wire rod, inspired by Czech marionette design. Czech puppets have these rods that go through the head, to keep things from getting tangled. I combined lots of design-ideas in the hopes of making something very simple to operate, as we didn’t have a lot of time. Geoff Alm, Seattle Opera’s fight choreographer, had about an hour to stage the big sword fight in Act Three, and I had an hour with each of the two singers, Nicolas and Alfred Walker, and then a stray minute or two here or there in rehearsal. I didn’t have any time to work with them in terms of getting into the gondola. That’s tricky; it has to look like the puppet is stepping into the gondola. The puppets can’t suddenly levitate and float into the gondolas...that destroys the illusion!

Nicolas Cavallier, Rob D’Arc, and friends
Alan Alabastro, photo

I’d like to go back to what you were saying about Czech puppet design.
It’s an amazing industry. If you’re on the streets of Prague, or any big city, there are street vendors who sell thousands of these amazing marionettes, made in big factories. With a looped piece of wire, a little wooden dowel, a cross-T, and a couple of strings you get amazing control on a small marionette.

Vodnìk Marionette

I have a little Czech puppet of Vodnìk, a popular character from Czech folklore and the beautiful Dvořák opera Rusalka...part of that central European opera/puppet connection.
Opera and puppetry go very well together; both forms are so over-the-top! Neither one is limited by the needs of realism. And there are so many cultural connections; every culture has its own style of puppetry. It’s an international form with specific national schools, just like opera. In Sicily, for instance, they use these large marionettes, 4 or 5 feet tall, with metal armor, weighing 80 pounds, and perform a cycle of stories based on Orlando Furioso.

An epic poem which also inspired huge numbers of operas.
Yes, at Northwest Puppet Center, where they do an opera every year, they tell me there are a number of operas that were composed specifically for marionettes.

Where else can we see your work?
You can find me most weekends down at Pike Place Market, here at “Planet of the Puppets” (or like our Facebook page). And I take a lot of private commissions. It’s lots of fun to come up with something that’s never been done before. And I’m always willing to be honest about what’s possible!

Rob D’Arc and Pike Place Market shoppers

Down here at the Market, I see you’re selling these fun little “Pop-Up Puppets,” made from tongue depressors and paint swizel sticks...
Yes, and we also sell kits, to make a dozen Pop-Up Puppets at home, at a party, or perhaps a business retreat. With these, we’ve done most of the work already, and all that’s left is the creativity. In fact that’s the part most adults are a bit nervous about! But people have had a lot of fun, doing self-portraits, or glueing little print-outs of photos of themselves and their friends to the tops of these puppets. It’s a lot of fun!

This may be a dumb question...but what’s your favorite part of The Tales of Hoffmann?
You’d think it would be the puppets in the Giulietta scene. But surprisingly, I love the Olympia scene! I love automata, I know a bit about their history, and the fact that she’s singing this incredibly complicated piece, and acting it out physically, and malfunctioning—I love that. And the fact that he falls in love with something that isn’t real. That’s my business—making people fall in love with things that aren’t real!

Meet Our Singers: NICOLAS CAVALLIER, The Villains

French bass Nicolas Cavallier made a strong Seattle Opera debut as Mozart’s Figaro in 2009. Seattle audiences then enjoyed this versatile artist’s moving portrayal of Massenet’s Don Quichotte in 2011. Now he returns as in a very different role: the shape-shifting nemesis of Hoffmann, who foils his romances at every turn. Cavallier told us about how basses have all the fun—and what American opera audiences have in common with Chinese!

Nicolas Cavallier sings Lindorf’s couplets from The Tales of Hoffmann

Your roles for Hoffmann are such a change from your last role here of Don Quichotte! Which is more fun to play: a saintlike, virtuous character or a villain?
Basses get to have it both ways. I love the wonderful humor of Don Quichotte, but it’s also a blast to be the nasty guy...or in this case, a variety of nasty guys. I play all kinds of devils, in this opera, in Faust, in operas such as The Rake’s Progress. The devil has to be appealing. In the French tradition he is always ambiguous.

Nicolas Cavallier (Lindorf) in The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

In The Tales of Hoffmann your four devil-characters are quite different.
Yes, Councilor Lindorf, my character in the Prologue, is not too nasty; let’s call him “playful.” Coppélius is lots of fun, Dr. Miracle is much darker, and Dapertutto, though he has less to sing, he is a nasty piece of work...the darkest one in this opera.

Nicolas Cavallier (Dapertutto) in The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

Have you sung The Tales of Hoffmann often?
Yes, I’ve been singing these roles for 15 years, since the first one I ever did in Lièges. I’ve done it in Geneva, Avignon, Marseille, and farther afield: Albania, Hong Kong. and it was interesting how the people reacted in China—they were more like an American audience, audibly enjoying themselves.

Nicolas Cavallier (Coppélius) in The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

What is The Tales of Hoffmann about?
A man who thinks he is in love with three different women, but it’s all in his imagination. It is possible to blind yourself with love; here, for instance, he falls in love with a doll, with a woman who is near death, and with a whore. And at the end he loses his soul. He loses everything.

What’s the vocal challenge for the bass? Are these four roles even written for the same voice?
Not exactly. In fact on many old recordings they have four different singers. To do them all you need a very big bass-baritone range. Coppélius is a basso buffo, really; Dr. Miracle, in the middle act, sings in a low register but it must be very strong as he has to hold his own in two very dramatic trios. And Dapertutto’s aria, “Scintille, diamant” is actually quite high.

Which character is your favorite?
Dr. Miracle.

Nicolas Cavallier (Dr. Miracle) in The Tales of Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

And what’s your favorite moment in the opera?
Nicklausse’s “Violin Aria.” It’s so beautiful.

What advice would you give an opera-goer who is attending Tales of Hoffmann for the first time?
Listen for the Frenchness of the music. Although it comes from German stories, it is very French; in fact it’s the most popular French opera after Carmen. French opera must be effervescent—it requires a huge amount of energy from everyone involved. The most famous moments in the opera are the “Barcarolle” in the Venice scene, sung by Nicklausse and Giulietta, and the Trio that concludes the Antonia act.

Keep in mind, Offenbach himself never heard this opera. He died before completing it, before it was ever performed. You have to finish it each time you put it on, because people keep on finding new pieces of music and trying them out. I’ve been in 15 productions now, and every time there was a slight change: a new aria there, a different version of a recitative there.

Nicolas Cavallier (Don Quichotte) in Don Quichotte, 2011
Rozarii Lynch, photo

You are French, but much of your training happened in the UK.
Yes, they have a more laid-back approach to music in the UK. Sometimes in France we take ourselves too seriously! I’m coming to Seattle from Strasbourg, in eastern France, where I was singing Merlin in Chausson’s Le roi Arthus, a King Arthur opera, staged by Keith Warner. That was really great, it was a wonderful experience.

Where is home?
Paris. I have been very lucky. I have friends in this business who go without seeing their families for months. This is unacceptable. When my two children were young I stayed nearby so they could see me from time to time. I tried to do both things well—career and family.

Nicolas Cavallier (Figaro) in The Marriage of Figaro, 2009
Rozarii Lynch, photo

Where is your favorite place in the world to sing?
I like singing in Strasbourg, and I’ve been impressed with the public in the UK. Vienna is wonderful. And in Seattle, I was so moved by the way the audiences enjoyed Don Quichotte.

Do you have any particular pre-performance rituals?
I like to go onstage when the public is not there. I get the feeling of the room, and walk through what I have to do. I greet the technicians, as we all prepare to do the show together. I need the feeling of the room. You have to feel at home.

Speight Jenkins is bidding us all farewell with this production. What has Speight meant to your career?
I’m very grateful for the jobs he has given me in Seattle; if he believes in you, he is faithful. He is a visionary. There are very few general directors who have the knowledge and vision of what opera can be. I respect the sheer passion that he has for opera. He’s very attuned to his singers; he loves them.

Meet our singers: KATE LINDSEY, The Muse/Nicklausse

As The Seattle Times put it, “the beautiful Kate Lindsey nearly walks away with the show” in The Tales of Hoffmann. This mezzo-soprano plays Hoffmann’s trusty sidekick as well as his creative inspiration with impressive vocal range and agility, comedic timing and onstage charisma to spare. She has enchanted audiences at The Met and Santa Fe Opera in the same role. Seattleites first fell in love with Kate when she took the title role in the 2010 world premiere of Amelia, and then as Rosina in the 2011 production of The Barker of Seville. Next year in 2015, she will return to McCaw Hall to sing The Composer in Ariadne auf Naxos. 

When you sing the role of a man, what is different?
My costume informs me tremendously in the way I choose to move. In general, I adjust my stance to avoid the dancer's "turn out" that I tend to have. The hips are more straightly aligned, and I'm more grounded in my movements. In terms of thoughts and feelings, I personally don't think, in our deepest essence, that men and women are all that different from each other—society has just imposed certain restrictions of thought and feeling onto each gender. Therefore, I choose to allow the text to guide me through this discovery of the humanity within the character rather than focusing overtly on playing into an ideal of gender.

Kate Lindsey (Nicklausse) in rehearsal for The Tales of Hoffmann. 
Alan Alabastro photo

Kate Lindsey (Nicklausse) in The Tales of Hoffmann. 
Elise Bakketun photo

You were in The Met’s Hoffmann broadcast in live HD. Do you have to perform differently when you know people will be seeing you close-up?
On stage, I pretend there's always a close-up on my face, HD broadcast or not. Personally, if I am not maintaining that absolute focus of subtext, which comes through in the smallest ways, most especially in the eyes, then I know I'm completely out of focus and absent within the present moment. I have a feeling that the audience is very attuned to this, as well, even if they are sitting far away and can't really see the facial nuance. I like to think this sort of focus can still be felt deeply, even in the biggest opera houses.

Kate Lindsey (The Muse) and William Burden (Hoffmann) in The Tales of Hoffmann. 
Elise Bakketun photo

Some old recordings omit the scenes with the Muse. What do you think she adds to the opera?
I think she actually adds some sense, that is continuity, to a story that can actually start to feel really confusing. I believe that she represents Hoffmann's inner voice, which is working desperately to be heard so that he can fully realize the depth of his artistic genius. The Muse acts as an internal psychological guide for Hoffmann; that internal voice, an intuitive force, which we all have inside of us. I now ask myself frequently if I'm truly listening to my Muse, my intuition, as I walk through life. Are you listening to yours? How would our lives change if we could take more time to honor that voice within ourselves?

What do you think you’re really saying when you sing the “Violin Aria”?
“Go inside, listen! Stop fighting against your inner truth and your gifts! I am your violin. I am your Muse. I am love. Surrender to your Muse, and you can then be free from the deepest fears within yourself.” (That’s not a direct translation, but it's my general subtext).

Do you have a moment in this opera?
The very end, when I sing the line: Des cendres de ton coeur, réchauffe ton génie, dans la sérénité souris à tes douleurs! La Muse apaisera ta souffrance bénie. On est grand par l'amour et plus grand par les pleurs. Literally: “From the ashes of your heart, reheat your genius; in serenity smile at your sorrows. The Muse will ease your blessed suffering. Love makes one great, and tears make one greater.”

From right: Kate Lindsey (Nicklausse) with William Burden (Hoffmann).
Elise Bakketun photo

You’ve worked in Seattle with Stephen Wadsworth, Peter Kazaras, and now Chris Alexander. What do you look for/hope for in a director?
Laughter, honesty, gentleness and friendship. Wait, is this a dating website?

Where do you call home?
Wherever I can get a really good night's sleep.

Where is your favorite place in the world to sing?
The location or city is never as important as the quality and fulfilling nature of the work. That can make any place a whole lot more beautiful.

Do you still travel with your dog?
Shelby, the sweetest rascal of a dog, travels with me quite often. I always encounter interesting new friendships as a result of walking with her and meeting other wonderful "dog people." She warms my heart. I always say that she was a rescue dog, but in fact, she rescued me even more than I rescued her.

Kate Lindsey (far right) with Susanna Phillips (center) and Isabel Leonard in the March 2012 issue of Vogue magazine.   

Tell us a little bit about the fashion shoot at Vogue!
The Vogue photo shoot was a bit of a blur—it all happened so quickly. I got to visit the Vogue offices a few days before the shoot to try on some clothing possibilities. It was completely surreal to be there after having watched the documentary The September Issue about Vogue. Then, the stylist took some sample photos with clothing options, and she said, "I just have to run these by Anna before we select what you will wear"... Yes! That was (Editor in Chief) Anna Wintour! My gosh, I just about melted there, even days before the photo shoot! The actual shoot was really great. Everyone was extremely nice, and they were quite impressed with how easily us opera singers could follow direction. We all had a nice laugh over that afterwards.

What do you like about coming to Seattle?
Coffee! And warm yoga studios!

Kate Lindsey (The Muse) and William Burden (Hoffmann) in The Tales of Hoffmann. 
Elise Bakketun photo

This is Speight’s last production as the company’s general director. What has Speight meant to your career?
Speight's faith and encouragement have been overwhelming gifts in my life. I admire him deeply as a mentor and a friend. Singing the role of Amelia was a huge turning point in my growth, personally and professionally, and I couldn't have dreamed of working in a more supportive environment. I admire so much his contagious enthusiasm and passion for opera.

The Tales of Hoffmann, Retiring General Director Speight Jenkins' last production with Seattle Opera, plays May 10, 14, 16 and 17 at McCaw Hall. For tickets, go to seattleopera.org/hoffmann.

Phantoms in the Lights of Paris: HoffMANIA in Nineteenth-Century France

By Guest Blogger Rob McClung

One may well wonder why a French composer chose to set an opera based on three fantastic tales of an eccentric German writer—why The Tales of Hoffmann is set, in Seattle Opera’s production, in the Opéra Garnier in Paris, instead of in a tavern in Nuremberg, as in the original. The Garnier, of course, is no stranger to phantoms, boasting one of its own, but is it really the place to house the marvelously fantastic stories of one of Germany’s great storytellers?

The real-world lobby of the Palais Garnier

Prologue of Seattle Opera’s production of The Tales of Hoffmann, set in the Palais Garnier lobby
Elise Bakketun, photo

In 1836, an up-and-coming young critic named Théophile Gautier reviewed Les contes d’Hoffmann, Massé Egmont’s recent French translation of Hoffmann’s short stories; in it, he claimed that Hoffmann was more popular in France than in Germany. Gautier’s assertion was true. Hoffmann’s genius was first recognized outside of the Teutonic region; shortly after his death in 1822, his works were translated in French, and it was in this language that his works spread widely throughout Europe. Writers as far afield as America (Washington Irving and Edgar Allen Poe), Italy (Camillo Boito), Russia (Nikolai Gogol), England (Charles Dickens) and Scotland (Robert Louis Stevenson) were deeply influenced by Hoffmann.

Self-portrait sketched by E. T. A. Hoffmann

Why did the French love Hoffmann so much? Gautier narrowed it down to a stubborn preference for reality. Hoffmann’s tales do not have the long-ago-and-far-away appeal of the Brothers’ Grimm Fairy Tales, nor the exotic allure of the Arabian Nights, so popular in nineteenth-century Europe. Hoffmann’s stories are always grounded in a mundane reality familiar to his readers; they dance on the thin boundary between the plausible and the implausible, fantasy and illusion. Gautier observes that by nature “the Frenchman is not fantastic, and in truth it is hardly easy to be so in a country where there are so many streetlights and newspapers. Twilight, so necessary for the fantastic, exists neither in French thought nor in the French language.”

Perhaps Hoffmann’s ability to straddle fantasy and reality so adeptly was the reason for his undeniable influence on French culture. Anyone who flips over Gautier’s short stories will see traces of Hoffmann. The two men had much in common: they shared the same vocation, that of a critic, as well as a passion for the arts. Gautier, like Hoffmann, was a talented artist, and his short stories enter the same realm as Hoffmann’s, where subjects such as madness and the supernatural plague his characters. Nowhere is this dichotomy more exaggerated than in the short story “The Priest” (La Morte amoureuse, published in 1836, the same year as his review), which concerns a young man fresh out of seminary who is pursued by a female vampire. Four years earlier, Gautier wrote a story (conte fantastique) that featured Hoffmann’s name in the title, “Onuphrius Wphly, ou Les Vexations fantastiques d’un admirateur d’Hoffmann.” The young painter Onuphrius is just as disturbed and haunted by demons and phantoms as any Hoffmann protagonist.

The French also loved Hoffmann himself (or at least the perpetual myth that surrounded him). Offenbach was not the first to place Hoffmann as a central character in a tale. In addition to adapting The Nutcracker in 1844, Alexandre Dumas père wrote a semi-autobiographical novel, La Femme au Collier de Velours, loosely inspired by Hoffmann’s “Councilor Crespel” (source of the opera’s Act Two) in which Hoffmann is the center of the story. As Arthur Ransome notes, Dumas’ description of Hoffmann’s room may not necessarily be true of a physical space so much as his brain: “It was the room of a genius at once capricious and picturesque, for it had the air of a studio, a music-shop, and a study, all together….a whole world of things, but a whole world not worth twenty-five silver thalers. Was the occupant of the room painter, musician, or poet? We do not know.”

The arts are always tied up as the subject matter, indeed the essence, of Hoffmann’s tales. Gautier wrote, “Painter, poet, and musician, he [Hoffmann] grasps everything from a triple perspective: sounds, colors, and feelings.” Music, and musical instruments, are often major themes in his stories. In “Councilor Krespel”, for example, the violinmaker Krespel tells the narrator of the mysterious properties of an ancient and delicate violin: a perfectly inanimate object which speaks to Krespel “in a strange way of itself.”

Jean-Louis Barrault starred as Berlioz in a 1942 film inspired by the Symphonie Fantastique

Perhaps no French composer more so than Hector Berlioz, the composer of the Symphonie Fantastique: Épisode de la vie d’un artiste thoroughly absorbed the flavor of Hoffmann. When the tales first appeared in French in 1829, he devoured them. Just as Hoffmann wrote stories that were influenced by music, Berlioz’s symphony was distinctly programmatic, built on a narrative that dealt with a young man’s irrational fixation with a woman, delusions, and descent into visions of supernatural forces. The young man is often assumed to be Berlioz, who suffered from a pathological infatuation with the actress Harriet Smithson (who he later divorced—ah, young love), but the central character of the symphony may as well be Anselmus from Hoffmann’s “The Golden Pot” or Nathanael in “The Sandman,” both of them victims of uncontrollable yearning (which Hoffmann deemed the “essence of romanticism”), anguished to the core, and ceaselessly tormented by forces of the supernatural (brought on by hallucinogens or otherwise). The light of day and reverie of night are present in both Berlioz’s programmatic symphony and Hoffmann’s tales. And like a Hoffmann tale, music and words blend together as the key elements of the narrative. For Berlioz, the fantastic is the subject, the language is music; for Hoffmann, the subject is music and the language is German.

The death of Antonia in the 1881 world premiere of The Tales of Hoffmann: Adèle Isaac (Antonia); back (l to r): Hippolyte Belhomme (Crespel), Marguerite Ugalde (Nicklausse), Pierre Grivot (Frantz), Émile-Alexandre Taskin (Dr. Miracle), Jean-Alexandre Talazac (Hoffmann)
Source Wikimedia

The posthumous myth of Hoffmann blurred with the characters he created, and the image of the Hoffmann we perceive in Offenbach’s opera is that which was perceived and perpetuated by the French: a man, tormented but affable, convivial to the core, puffing smoke rings from great clay pipe in Luther’s Cellar in Nuremberg while spinning a fantastic tale over a stein of beer “surrounded by chimerical branches, young serpents, and other frills and absurdities” (to quote Gautier). No surprise then, that this is the Hoffmann we meet in the 1851 the five-act “drame-fantastique” by Jules Barbier and Michel Carré. Offenbach saw the play when it premiered and, like the critic who noted that it would make an excellent comic opera, saw the potential for a musical treatment of the story. Once Offenbach secured the rights to adapt Barbier and Carré’s play, he devoted himself completely his operatic adaptation. Hanslick noted that the haunted world of Hoffmann always appealed to Offenbach, and that in his last years, the aged composer “looked like a transparent, pale, sadly smiling ghost from [Hoffmann’s] The Serapion Brethren. ”

Contemporary cartoon of Offenbach as Pierrot, a commedia clown

In his book Orpheus in Paris, Siegfried Kracauer reads the tale of Olympia as the portrayal of the senseless, crazy activity of the Second Empire: an era of automatic gaiety and vain champagne parties; the tale of Giulietta in Venice symbolizes the joy of the fleeting moment and passing day. The spirits that haunted Hoffmann and his protagonists were not unique; rather, they presented themselves in various guises throughout the turbulence of France in the nineteenth-century. No person understood this more than Offenbach, who Kracauer called that “fallen Ariel, a spirit of the air brought down to live among the haunting spirits of earth.” It seems that, contrary to Gautier’s observation, Hoffmann’s spirits found a way to dance in the city of light after all.

--Rob McClung
Seattle Opera Community Programs Manager

Meet Our Singers: KEITH JAMESON, the Henchmen

Audiences have been loving the four oddball servants played by Keith Jameson, who makes his Seattle Opera debut in The Tales of Hoffmann. Between Jameson’s extraordinary performance(s) and the remarkable work of our Costume and Hair and Makeup Departments, some in the audience think he is four different people! This exciting new talent told us a little about his work in this opera and his many-faceted career.

Keith Jameson sings Frantz's aria

Tell us about the characters you play in this crazy opera.
I sing the four servants, Andrès, Cochenille, Frantz, and Pitichinaccio. As the heroines all embody the same woman, and the villains are all different sides of the same man, I believe my characters embody aspects of the same man as well. They are all very distinct, with each one possessing a certain characteristic: Andrès is a man of very few words; Cochenille stutters; Frantz is hard of hearing; Pitichinaccio has a mean edge.

Have you performed these roles before?
I have not. I sang in the chorus of Tales of Hoffmann at the Brevard Music Center when I was an apprentice there in college. When I was asked to take on these roles, I was excited about creating four completely different characters, and hopefully four 'different' voices as well.

Keith Jameson as Cochenille
Elise Bakketun, photo

What is challenging about performing these roles?
Cochenille’s stuttering is a challenge in that he stutters on vowels, not consonants. Most other stuttering roles in opera (like Basilio in Le nozze di Figaro or Vasek in The Bartered Bride) stutter on consonants. In this production, Cochenille is an automaton like Olympia, so his speech is very clipped and mechanical, and the stuttering helped reflect that... also we decided that he was an 'earlier' model automaton, so he keeps stuttering until he gets the word right. It's been a lot of fun discovering the walk (and talk) of Cochenille.

What should we be listening for with the other three?
Andrès only sings three words: "Oui," "Non," and "Bon", short answers to Lindorf's questions in the Prologue (and Epilogue). Frantz sings a short aria in the Antonia scene. Because he is hard of hearing, his answers to questions are partly wrong. And watch out for how Pitichinaccio has a lot of stage business while hiding underneath a chaise sofa.

Norah Amsellem (Giulietta) and Keith Jameson (Pitichinaccio) in Les contes d'Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

Opera News did a nice story on you recently. It sounds like you started out singing in church?
Yes, I grew up in South Carolina, singing in the youth choir at my church, and the adult choir when I was in high school. We sang a lot of big, standard choral anthems. I also sang in a contemporary gospel group in high school. In addition, I was involved with musicals at my school and community theater. In college and graduate school, I continued to sing in church choirs, my college choir and chamber groups. I was the student conductor of my college choir, the Furman Singers at Furman University, during my senior year.

And how did you end up in opera?
I received a Master's in Conducting from the Eastman School of Music, and stayed on for my Doctorate. I realized that I 'liked' conducting, but I 'loved' singing. I was auditioning as a baritone for the Young Artists Program at Lyric Opera of Chicago, and all the judges thought I should be a tenor. So I was not accepted into the program, and instead transitioned from a baritone to tenor. I auditioned for 11 apprentice programs the following year, and was accepted into the Santa Fe Opera Apprentice Program, which I did for two summers. This was a major turning point for my career. After Santa Fe, I sang with New York City Opera for six consecutive seasons.

You started a music festival in your hometown in 2007—the Greenwood Music Festival. How did that come about?
My hometown of Greenwood, SC, does not get a lot of classical music or opera. (Actually SC only has one professional opera company, FBN Productions' Opera for Kids!, so it rarely gets major opera productions.) I wanted to bring more classical music and opera to that area, so from 2007-2011 we presented three American one-act operas by Barber, Barab and Menotti, Beauty and the Beast by André Grétry (in French with titles), and a world premier children's opera Mooch the Messy by Marcus DeLoach, a baritone who has sung in Seattle. We also presented chamber music, choral groups, cabaret evenings, a wind symphony from Atlanta, and the musical I Do! I Do! Although we stopped in 2011, I believe the Greenwood Music Festival may come back one day, possibly as a smaller organization or in as a different company.

Keith Jameson as Frantz
Elise Bakketun, photo

It looks like you’ve done some work in children’s operas. How did this work/this interest come about?
It is extremely important for kids to experience live opera, unamplified voices, up close and personal. It is one reason why we presented children's operas at my festival in SC four of the five seasons. I have written a children's opera, Petunia, based on the book by Roger Duvoisin, that was premiered and presented throughout South Carolina this past January and February, with FBN Productions. These children are our future audiences. We must do more to educate children (and for that matter, the broader public) on the joys of opera and classical music. As more and more funding is being cut from our schools, it is up to us, the artists, and the opera companies, to take opera to the public.

Sounds like you’re as comfortable in an opera as you are in a cabaret act? Is that aspect of your career still going?
I love cabaret and musical theater. I am developing a new cabaret show that will probably be presented in the fall of 2015 in New York, and will feature songs from musicals and popular songs of the 1950's through the 1980's. Also, I hope to do a show that concentrates on the early songs of Irving Berlin (and do a recording).

Where is your favorite place in the world to sing?
I am partial to Santa Fe. The outdoor theater and the beautiful sunsets before the performances make it unforgettable, truly a magical place. I also must say the Metropolitan Opera. To be home in New York, and singing on that amazing stage with the incredible history of that institution, is always a humbling experience.

Keith Jameson (Andrès) and Alfred Walker (Lindorf) in Les contes d'Hoffmann
Elise Bakketun, photo

What excites you about coming to Seattle?
I have never been to Seattle before, never been to this part of the country, and I am thrilled to be here. I hope to do some major running along the bay (I am preparing to run my first marathon later this year), and want to experience all of the fresh seafood and wonderful markets that are here as well. I am also so excited to be making my debut with Seattle Opera. It is a company that has such a terrific reputation and everyone I've spoken with has so enjoyed their experiences here.