Ms. Bartoli, in an interview from 2004, you said that learning to listen to your voice is essential as an opera singer. 20 years later, is that still the foundation of your singing practice?
Of course! That’s the only way how to keep your voice in shape over such a long time. It is absolutely crucial! Vocal technique is a muscular process, so you need to be utterly aware of what you are doing, and what you shouldn’t be doing — just like in sport. Our voice also changes as we go along so this learning process never ends. We constantly check and adapt to the current situation, depending how you feel on the day, the acoustics of the venue, the outside temperature, the weather… Our muscles are flexible, so we can train them carefully to stretch out to a certain degree, but other parts of the body undergo little change, and are built differently in every one of us.
What impact does this have on vocal technique in opera?
For instance, a woman will never be able to sing the same long phrases in one breath as the 18th century castratos, or male singers who were castrated before puberty. Due to that cruel intervention, their bodies changed, and they often ended up with unusually long extremities and unnaturally sized chests. This is why their respiratory volume was considerably more ample than any of ours today, especially women who already have a smaller lung capacity than men.
“I have always had a great natural vocal agility... But with time and experience your interpretations get more colourful and refined, and that’s what really counts.”
And yet you manage to sing in extremely technically impressive ways: I watched videos of your performances where even the orchestra behind you smiles excitedly, or their eyes widen in surprise at your abilities.
Indeed, a large part of my repertoire, especially from the Baroque period, or Rossini’s works contain an acrobatic element, which gives me great joy to tackle! And it surprises me sometimes what you can achieve when you get uplifted by some mind-boggling coloratura, or when you are challenged by your partners on stage, like in one of my favourite Handel arias, where the voice competes at breathtaking speed with the runs of both a trumpet and an oboe…
Could you have also sung those more exhilarating and acrobatic pieces when you were younger? Or did the possibilities of your voice open up as you aged?
I think I have always had a great natural vocal agility, meaning that I could always sing fast and complicated coloratura more easily than others. This is something I was simply born with. But through practice and experience, l learned how to control my breath far better, and I extended the range of my voice. Experience also let me tackle new repertoire which may not be commonly considered for a mezzo-soprano, even if it makes sense historically. But don’t forget that with time and experience your interpretations get more colourful and refined, and that’s what really counts. Like a good red wine…
The opera singer Benjamin Bernheim said that different languages allow him to sing in different colors. Is that also how it feels for you?
The characteristics of a language automatically have a crucial impact on the vocal line and phrasing, and you have to know how to deal with this while you are singing. I think the challenge is to never compromise your singing technique in order to keep your voice healthy, while at the same time learning how to apply each language in a way that the pronunciation remains clear, the words understandable, and the delivery true to the natural qualities of that language.
Is that easier for you because you are a native Italian speaker?
I am indeed very lucky that most great operas are written to Italian texts and that I can mostly perform in my own language. Singing your native language lets you play far more freely with the words because you know so much more about its structure, its accents, its connotations etc. Mozart wrote three operas with his congenial librettist, the Italian Lorenzo Da Ponte: “Don Giovanni”, “Così fan tutte” and “Le nozze di Figaro”. Their lines are incredibly funny but also witty, subtle and full of double-entendre. It is of key importance to understand all this to render the full richness of these pieces properly. Even when the audience does not understand every single word of what we are singing, they must feel all those colours through our music-making. My principle is to never sing texts that I do not fully understand. We are first and foremost actors talking to the audience, we tell them stories, recite poetry for them, captivate them with our tales. Music is the instrument we use for bringing those words and stories across to you, and of course the subtext as seen by the composer.
“Opera happens in that one and only moment you are witnessing, and this creates special energy that you feel directly, in your body and soul.”
Despite your fluency with celebrated composers like Rossini and Mozart, you’ve always continued to explore the works of all kinds of composers, even lesser-known ones like Agostino Steffani. Why is it important for you to keep yourself open to many forms and styles of opera rather than specializing in one composer’s work?
I am afraid that it is very simple: I am just hopelessly curious! When I was learning Mozart, I began to wonder how he lived, with whom he played, who inspired him, and why many people he speaks of with admiration are far less known today: Haydn, Gluck and Salieri, for instance. So I went and looked at some of their music and got so excited about it that I simply wanted to share it with my audience. With Vivaldi it was the same. I thought the Four Seasons are one of the most popular pieces in the world, everyone knows them and they are wonderful. How can it be that one says Vivaldi’s operas are boring, even though in his time they were successful? So I went and looked at the scores, selected a number of arias I liked, and recorded my first Vivaldi album, followed by another one 20 years later.
Is that kind of open, exploratory nature something you hope to bring to the programming of institutions like the Salzburger Festspiele or the Opera de Monte Carlo?
I think that during the past few decades, we have become more open than ever before: all kinds of new repertoire has been established, all kinds of fantastic young singers are emerging, new repertoire is being explored by historically informed ensembles. Last year, for example, we carried out our first Académie Lyrique at the Opéra de Monte-Carlo with great success. Dedicated to French music, 13 young singers were invited to delve into this repertoire, guided by specialists from the field. At the same time, they studied the parts from Ravel’s “L’enfant et les sortilèges” and sang them in a production of this piece by the Ballets de Monte-Carlo, directed by Jean-Christophe Maillot. We would love to continue these kinds of academies and dedicate them to different topics and repertoire.
Working with young students and lovers of opera and classical music must surely give you so much optimism for the future of the genre.
The talent, enthusiasm and commitment of these young people of course gives me much hope for its future! But since opera has survived more than four centuries in spite of being regularly declared dead, it will probably go on for a while. Opera unites more art forms than most other genres: orchestral and vocal music from more than four centuries, literature, acting, theatre, painting, stage, costume and light design. These days also video art and dance, sometimes acrobatics — and don’t forget languages, history, philosophy, education. And it is live, it all happens in that one and only moment you are witnessing, and this creates special energy that you as an audience feel directly, in your body and soul. It can move you more profoundly and exhilarate you more than the other art forms because in opera all these forces are bundled into one strong and wonderful power.