To Thine Own Self Be True
An Interview With José Cura

 

The Cura for Airs and Graces

Sunday October 23rd 2005

Irish Independent

Ciara Dwyer
 

'IS THAT him?" asks the London cabbie as we pull into a side street in Covent Garden. Standing on the corner is the Argentinian tenor José Cura. A soft black leather jacket hangs from his muscular shoulders, his thick black hair is a groomed mess and he is wearing denims.

The shoppers who pass on the pavement are like pasty Lilliputians beside this glowing giant. He displaces air simply by standing there. It's like watching Marlon Brando in his prime - all that intensity and intelligence.

But I am too scared to enjoy the sight. I am 10 minutes late and everybody knows how some tenors have a reputation for being temperamental. "I couldn't wait any longer," says Cura, "I'm starving. I need food." He walks away from the door of the apartment, where we were to do the interview, and heads off down the street.

I gasp. Have I blown my big interview? I scurry after him.

Moments later, the star tenor is pushing a trolley around Tesco, throwing packets of pasta and mozzarella and a pizza into his basket, while I, like a helpless diva, totter along the aisles beside him.

José Cura is not your average tenor; for although he is extraordinarily talented, he is a very ordinary man. That morning he woke up in his Madrid home, had breakfast with his wife Silvia and their three children - José Ben, 17, Yazmin, 12, and Nicolas, 9. Then he got into his car, a Ford Focus, and dropped the kids to school, before heading for the airport. Nicolas was the last to get out.

"Where are you going now?" the boy asked his father.

"London."

"And what are you going to sing?"

"La Fanciulla del West."

"OK. Ciao. Good luck."

Cura, the doting father, smiles as he relates the beautifully blasé way of his child. He lugs his plastic Tesco bags back to the apartment and tells me he is tired.

"All day yesterday I was doing my garden. Mowing the lawn and cutting hedges. At the moment we have no gardener and if I don't do it it will be a jungle. I was doing that from 10 in the morning till five, and in the middle I was on the phone, mowing with the headphone on, discussing contracts."

In less than six hours, he will be performing as Dick Johnson in the Royal Opera House's production of Puccini's La Fanciulla del West. And he has agreed to let me interview him before this.

Most opera singers don't stir before a performance. But Cura explains that that is not his way.

"The important thing is living and not spending your day finding alibis not to live: 'I have a performance tonight so I cannot move' - that is a very common thing. OK, some people need that. I find I do a much better performance when I enjoy my day. I forget about the performance until two hours before, when I need to get ready for it.

"The other day, there was a march for peace here. [It was a day he was due to perform.] So I went with my camera and stuck myself in the middle of the march, and started taking pictures. It was three hours before the performance. Then I went to the theatre and put my make-up on and sang."

Some might say that this is insane, not proper behaviour for a tenor, but José Cura has always done things his own way. Besides, he is not just a singer.

The 42-year-old has been conducting for the past 25 years. He doesn't think of himself as a singer but as a musician who happens to sing and conduct and compose.

Once, at a concert in London, he sang and conducted at the same time. Many years ago in La Scala, he was booed for singing an aria while lying down. And only last spring, he conducted Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana, then as soon as it was over he put on make-up and costume and played the lead role in Leoncavallo's Pagliacci. Such adventurous ways are not always praised. But Cura's path reminds me of the writer Antonio Porchia's line: "They will say that you are on the wrong road, if it is your own."

"I am a daring artist," he tells me. "I am always investigating new ways of getting to the public. Not all of them work 100 per cent, but you study what does work, drop the useless and you develop. That's the way to grow in every human situation; if not, we would still be carving with stones. That's why for each generation since the beginning of time, you have two or three people who dare to challenge, and the other ones are just sitting there, either criticising or enjoying the results of your risks."

The newspapers have chronicled his work. "José Cura is a phenomenally gifted artist. Seldom can anyone have made the hideously difficult title role [Verdi's Otello] sound so easy to sing," wrote the London Times's Rodney Milnes. The Daily Telegraph's Paul Gent raved about his "charm and charisma to burn, a thrilling voice with a dark centre and an athletic build honed by martial arts". And when the tenor returned to the Metropolitan in February of this year with Saint-Saens's Samson and Dalila, the New York Times wrote of his "animal magnetism" and hailed his performance as the reason to take in the opera. I have seen José Cura in many operas over the years and concur with the critic who described him as "thrillingly dramatic". Quite simply, Cura is a creature of the theatre, a male version of Maria Callas. Images of his performances remain in my head. When he was Manrico in Il Trovatore, I watched his side profile as he smoked a cheroot on stage, while the choir sang the Anvil Chorus; the way he put out the candle with his palm in Otello, then sang with fury, his lion-face on fire, as his Desdemona lay sleeping on the bed; pulling the pillars down in Samson. His voice, with its rich baritonal quality, is exquisite. And yet José Cura's singing career started by accident. In his home town of Rosario, he had been conductor of a young group which did chamber operas. One night, he settled into his seat in the audience to watch a concert which he had helped prepare, only to be told that the tenor had taken ill. Instead of cancelling the show, Cura stood in.

"I was struggling, of course, because I was not a trained singer. But somebody heard me and said, 'You have to study, because there is some very interesting material to develop.' Fate is fate."

In 1988, Jose had no money, but the singing teacher Horacio Amauri insisted on lessons - money was not an issue. "A voice like yours comes to the earth two or three times a century," he told Cura. Then in 1991, José and Silvia with their first child, left Argentina for Italy to pursue the singing. Later on, they lived in France and eventually settled in Madrid.

"When we came to Europe we had some very tough years - working as waiters and cutting wood. It was tough but not scary. Today, I look back on it as an enriching period. I have always enjoyed my life, even when it was hard, because it's part of being alive. If you only enjoy your life when you are successful and well paid, then you are pathetic, because it's not the life that you are enjoying but the economical success of it."

Today, as a tenor at the pinnacle of his career, he is grateful that he had to struggle.

"To have an easy beginning is not advisable, because then you are a very tender thing. You have to make your muscles. You have to have what I call healthy rage. I have never accepted the mediocrity of giving up just because somebody says I will be at fault. If I have to do something, I do it and if I have to fight for it, I fight. Only the talent is given, but what you do with it is your own responsibility," he says.

Cura attributes his success to hard graft. "The average audience will never understand the work behind a performance. Take a dancer, for example. To do a jump, he has to use muscles, he may have a pain in his knee. But in those 10 seconds that he is in the air, the audience sees this amazing creature, flying and smiling as if he is making no effort. They say, 'Wow! He is so lucky to be able to do this.' Lucky, sh*t. He's been working 10 hours a day for 10 years to be able to do that. It has nothing to do with luck."

And so it is with opera.

"I work very very hard. I study a lot and am very well prepared. That is why I am self-confident. I have been criticised because I look like I don't make any effort when I sing. I make a lot of effort but I have worked very hard, trained myself in front of mirrors and cameras, to make it look effortless. It's like if you see an actor acting, then he is not a good actor."

José Cura is the full package - the former weight-lifter and black belt has the looks, the talent, the brains and a healthy sense of humour about life. But for years, his good looks proved a hindrance.

"I never said I was a heart-throb, but people are impressed according to their own sensibilities. It is like if you take a tennis ball and you throw it against a wall, or water or the sun. You are throwing the same ball but it bounces differently according to the type of surface. "

Now that Cura is going grey, and putting on a little weight, he is amused at changed perceptions. He tells me about a concert he conducted recently, where he heard the audience laugh when he put on his glasses.

"I turned around and said, 'Well, it happens to everybody sooner or later. Now that I wear spectacles, you will say that after all that, I was not a bad musician'."

If ageing means that he will be taken for the serious artist that he always was, then "getting old is good", he says. Now that he is in his prime as a tenor, he is happy to sing more than conduct, but when he gets older, he plans to tilt the scales in the other direction.

There was a time, a few years ago, when he was so disheartened with the opera world that Silvia, his staunchly loyal wife, told him they would sell the house, and get somewhere smaller, so he could be free and happy again. Luckily, he rediscovered his enthusiasm. Setting up his own production company and record label - Cuibar - helped. Now he is his own impresario, and Cuibar manages other artists too.

"It is extra headaches but it's nice. Life is about colours and moving and preparing for your future."

Cura is still talking but I am conscious of the clock. There is the matter of tonight's opera. He needs to rest.

After all these years he still strikes me as incredibly down-to-earth. In a world where singers can become precious, how has he remained so grounded?

"You only stay grounded if you want to be. If it wasn't for the support of my family - my wife, my kids, my parents - I wouldn't have got so far. It depends on the kind of family you have. If you have an iron ball on your leg, you will move eventually but each step will be a nightmare. On the contrary, if your family is like a balloon, you just get everybody on board and you fly together. "

That evening in La Fanciulla del West, I watched José Cura on stage as a cowboy, with spurs, hat and gun. As always, his singing looked effortless, but sounded sublime.

"When I am on stage I give my blood," he told me that afternoon. On that Covent Garden stage, I watched him bleed. His dynamism was mesmerising. It was like watching history being made. I sat in the audience, glowing like a proud mother. For I am privileged to have met this man who has been touched by the gods, to have heard his story and to have shopped with him in Tesco.

José Cura: “Otello is a very hard role but it has compensations”

 

 

 The Verdi opera many consider his best, Otello, based, like Falstaff and Macbeth, on a Shakespearean play, will return to the Liceu on Thursday with Argentine tenor José Cura in the title role. It is a co-production of the Monnaie of Brussels and the Grand Théâtre of Geneva, with a modern staging by Willy Decker and with Antoni Ros-Marbà conducting the Orquestra Simfònica of the Great Teatre of the Liceu.

Cura, whom the public of Liceu de Barcelona has adored since his debut as a substitute for an indisposed José Carreras in Samson and Dalila, this time portrays the jealous Moor who kills his wife, one of his most critically acclaimed roles. He made his debut in Otello in 1997 and today, with more than a dozen different productions behind him, he continues to discover new nuances in each staging. “Otello is a very hard role, but it has compensations.  I enjoy it,” says Cura, who thrives on challenges and who, besides singing, also conducts orchestras.

“Obvious, Otello demands much sacrifice. The vocal effort is great but the psychological effort is even more exhausting to me.” Even though he has not passed through the Actor's Studio, Cura has trust in the character and gives himself over to it completely. “I put all my energy into the role and that leaves me drained because the psychological complications of Otello are enormous.” And he thanked the Liceu for the "delicacy" of giving him two days of rest between performances. “The voice you recover with a good night of sleep; the other, the soul, the mind, no.” That is especially true when, as in this case, the weight of the success of the performance falls to the singers, who must act on a completely empty stage and on an incline that complicates the actor’s movements.  “The ramp is uncomfortable and hard. One assumes that if one manages to tame it, the public will forget that it is inclined,” Cura said in resignation. He defended director Willie Becker.  “The masterworks like Otello, where there is not a single note or word more than necessary, allow an empty stage.”  But in other occasions, “minimalism camouflages the lack of ideas.”

Cura defines his character as an insecure man, explained to a great extent by Otello being the only black in a society of whites and also married to a princess. “He is a toad from a different swamp, as we say in Argentina,” he points out, “He is a great general and skilled swordsman but does not have the courage to face both guilty parties and ask them directly what there is between them.”

He sees Otello as a man without honor or nobility. “He is a mercenary, a paid assassin. A traitor who becomes a Christian for convenience.” And, he adds: “He does not have anything of a nobleman about him, but that legend has grown due to the nobility of the great interpreters who have sung him, like Domingo and Del Monaco.” Distrusting by nature, Otello falls easily into the trap set by Iago (Ataneli Side), who constantly feeds the lie that Desdémona (Krassimira Stoyanova) has been unfaithful with Cassio (Vittorio Grigolo). “Otello is as bad as Iago or even more so,” said Cura.  “I see Iago as the dark side of Otello, for that reason Otello allows Iago to destroy him.”

The tenor did not want to comment on his relations with Teatro Real, where in 2000 he clashed with the public. Yes, he explained that his plan to direct the Coliseo of the Three Cultures in Madrid is still in the air.

With respect to the Liceu, he retains his commitment to open the 2007-08 season with Andrea Chénier. “The public here has adopted me.”

 

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José Cura removes all nobility from Verdi’s Otello

 

As a good dramatic tenor, José Cura (Rosario, Argentina, 1962) has derived many artistic satisfactions from the role of Verdi’s Otello.   Starting next Thursday he sings it in Barcelona’s Liceu with to the Bulgarian soprano Krassimira Stoyanova and under the stage direction of Willy Decker and musical direction of Antoni Ros Marbà.  Satisfaction comes to the singer and actor as he looks into the psychology of a person with whom he has little sympathy. “He is not a hero, he is a mercenary. There is no type of nobility in him. He is as bad as or worse than Iago. In fact, I believe that Iago is nothing more than Otello's darker side.”

"The role of Otello is one I have sung many times and yet it always surprises me when I return to it.  He is very complex psychologically.  My relation with him began in 1997 and since then this character stays with me with the luck of a well-made marriage.  It is a relationship in which I find new delights in interpretation with each production," says the tenor.

Enthusiastic, vehement and intuitive, José Cura is a permanent volcano in boiling that wastes energy on the scene and outside. "Of the physical exhaustion after playing an operatic role such as Otello I recover with only a day of rest," he says, "but with the psychological implication of this character, and I imply much, I must take more time." In the nine years since he first sang this Verdi opera, the tenor has been developing his idea of the role, which he sees through the eyes of actors and directors like Laurence Oliver, Orson Welles or Kenneth Branagh, to draw a psychological profile which leaves little room for affection.

“The danger of Otello is that the audience confuses the nobility of some of the great tenors who have interpreted him, singers such as Ramon Vinay, Mario Del Monaco or Plácido Domingo, with the character. Because Otello is not a hero, he is not a noble person.  He is a mercenary, a man who earns his living by being a military machine; a Muslim who abandons his religion out of self-interest and who then takes the lead in the fight against his own.  I find no nobility in any of this,” proclaims the tenor, who even sees the evildoer Iago as one more aspect of Otello.  “He is as bad as or worse than he. The truth is that I see Iago like the dark side of Otello, the man through whom the Venetian general discovers his own destructive nature,” he comments.

José Cura says that his present vision of the character does not always agree with that of the director of the production for which he has been contracted to sing but until now no director has been able to change his mind. In the Liceu, the 1997 co-production of the Monnaie of Brussels and Grand Théâtre of Geneva directed by Willy Decker appears to leave the stage empty with a giant cross as the only scenic element. “It is a closed space that creates a sort of psychological prison for the characters while at the same time focusing all the attention on them, which forces the singers to be always alert.  Putting the action into a modern concept requires the singer to give the best of himself as an actor. But let nobody be deceived, no singer is a Robert de Niro or Anthony Hopkins,” he warns.

The tenor says he is in love with the Liceu and will return to the theater after this Otello to inaugurate season 2007-2008 with Andrea Chenier, but the reestablishment of his broken relationship with the Teatro Real after his clash with the public in 2000 at the Madrid theater still seems distant. Yesterday, in his press conference in Barcelona, he refused to respond to questions on his return to the Real or his relationship with the new direction of the theater. Yes, he explained, he has received an offer, without specifying which theater, to sing Wagner’s Parsifal in 2008, but he does not know if he will accept because he says that what frightens him most about this opera is the language: German.

 

 

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The tenor José Cura portrays Otello at the Liceu

Terra Actualidad - Europa Press

4 February 2006

The Argentine tenor José Cura will portray Otello in the Gran Teatre del Liceu beginning February 9 in a production that gambles that a barren stage will further the psychological investigation into the characters.

Cura explained today that, although he has participated in “between 12 and 15 different productions” of Otello, one of Giuseppe Verdi’s masterpieces, “it never stops surprising me” and “I always learn something new.”  

Nevertheless, on this occasion the tenor will bring to the Liceu “my only Otello” of the season, since the role is “very difficult” from both a vocal and psychological point of view, a fact that has led the Liceu to schedule performances every two days.

The opera, with a libretto by Arrigo Boito based on the play of William Shakespeare, takes place at the end of fifteenth century in the harbor city of Cyprus, dominated then by the Republic of Venice. Otello, a military man of Arab descent to the service of Venice, has conquered the heart of Desdemona (Krassimira Stoyanova), the young daughter of Venetian senator Brabantio, in spite of his dark skin and they have secretly married. The character feels insecure -- "a traitor always thinks that he will be betrayed" - - and he feels almost unworthy of the beautiful wife and so is open to the evil suggested by the official Iago (lado Ataneli).

The tragedy is transformed into a disquieting psychological drama and culminates with the murder of Desdemona at hands of a jealous Otello and his suicide when he finally understands the truth, which in Cura’s opinion demonstrates the “pathos” of the character and his “lack of heroism.”

At the moment that he murders Desdemona, the tenor says he wants the public to understand the sensation that “I suffer,” and that “I love her and for that reason I kill her,” reasons that Desdemona seems to understand at the moment of her death.

José Cura, who made debut with Otello in 1997, says that this character “is not noble or heroic” since “he comes to kill all in a Muslim town while he himself is a converted Muslim.”  “He betrays his own religion and his own race,” stressed the tenor.

With respect to the staging of this production, Cura commented that the only element on stage is "a great cross", that each character "uses in his own way" and that it ends up as the deathbed of Desdemona.

The tenor is in favor of “minimalism” when it focuses greater attention on the character and as long as “it is synonymous with quality and not of lack of ideas.”  

After his stay at the Liceu, José Cura, who at the moment does not plan to conduct any operas in Spain, will move to Zurich for Turandot and later to the Vienna Opera to conduct Madam Butterfly.

Otello premiered at the Liceu in 1890 and it was last seen in the Barcelonan theater in 1988, is scheduled through 27 February.

 

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The Argentine tenor José Cura says the role of Otello is demanding physically and psychologically

 

Barcelona, 4 Feb (EFE) - the Argentine tenor José Cura will make his debut at the Liceu in Verdi’s Otello, a role, he says, that is “very demanding physically and psychologically.”

 

Cura, who first sang in the Barcelonan theater in Samson et Dalila in season 2000-2001 when he replaced José Carreras at the last minute when Carreras fell ill, commented during his press conference that “in exchange for that favor to the Liceu, the public here adopted me and a history of affection began which I hope lasts many years.”

The Argentine singer dismissed those flattering praises that place him as the greatest interpreter of Otello in the world: “There are good interpreters in the world who compete for a role, as happens in cinema. And each of them gives the role different color and tone.”

Cura admits that “the character in Verdi’s opera is very hard and exhausting, as much physical as psychological” and, therefore, he is thankful to the Liceu that they have spaced the performances with two days of rest.

José Cura, who sang his first Otello in 1997, remembers “almost ten years and twelve or fifteen different productions,” during which he was always discovering something new--these findings are the secret of why he never gets tired of the character or the opera.

The Argentine tenor recalls that the culminating point in his relationship with Otello took place in 2001, in the Year of Verdi, when he did many performances of the opera that were responsible for his “ripening of the role,” but “after that savagery I have not done more than eight performances of Otello a year.”

For Cura, the character that came from Shakespeare’s pen “is neither a hero nor a nobleman, but a mercenary who earns a living as a military machine in the service of the enemy.”

Cura clarifies that “Otello does not take any actions that are the least heroic, especially if we remember that he was a Turk who converted to Christianity for political interests and a Muslim who kills Turkish Muslims. Thus he can never be a hero, but rather a traitor to his people and his religion.”

He attributes the positive musical reading of this blood-thirsty character over the years to “the nobility of the singers who have given him life, Placido Domingo or Mario Del Monaco.”

Perhaps because of the popularity of psychiatry in his country of origin, Cura applied psychoanalysis to Otello and remarks that “at the beginning of the fourth act, the character removes the mask of Christianity, returns to his origins and becomes more barren, colder and more reflective.  Then when he discovers the deceit (of Iago) and his mistakes, he understands that he has no other escape but suicide, an act of cowardice but also an act of love.”

According to Cura, the staging of the opera at the Liceu, directed by Willy Decker, is minimalist: “There is nothing in the scene, located on a ramp, which gives the sensation of being a psychological prison that prevents the characters from escaping their destiny".

The only symbolic element that the audience will see is a cross that, based on the character, becomes a weapon, a religious object, or Desdémona’s deathbed.

This minimalist staging has, in the opinion of the tenor, one great advantage: “The attention of the public will not be distracted and instead is centered exclusively in the performance of the characters.”

Cura, who is considering contracts for 2011, thinks about the next years to focus his attention on conducting and to incorporate some new roles in his singing repertoire like Neró, Peter Grimes or Parsifal.

 

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A Dream of a Tenor 

With a powerful, homogenous and very beautiful voice, José Cura is a singer with strong temperament and an excellent actor who also offers great stage presence.  As it turns out, he is also the perfect interpreter of the role which many dramatic tenors only dreams about: Otello, the main character in an extraordinary opera by Giuseppe Verdi.

Cura will be accompanied by two accomplished singers, soprano Krassimira Stoyanova, who made her debut in Barcelona and baritone Lado Atanelli, who had a great success at the Liceu in the role of Renato in Un ballo in maschera.

From the 9th till 27^th of February, the Liceu will welcome Otello, conducted by Antoni Ros-Marbà, who   conducted this work here 16 years ago. Of the eleven performances, four will an have alternative cast:  the principal roles in which will be Valencian soprano Anna Ibarra, tenor Gabriel Sadé and baritones Valeri Alexeev and Carlo Guelfi.

 

'No solo de celos vive Otelo'
 

Pablo Meléndez-Haddad.

ABC

William Shakespeare, Arrigo Boito and Giuseppe Verdi. Three great names of western culture who for centuries have been the voices of treason, death and violence thanks to the fatality that accompanies the Moor by Venice: Otello.  If the character represents the pinnacle of Shakespearean creation, it has perhaps become something even more in the world of opera, since he is the basis for two great masterpieces: one by Rossini and, more importantly, one by Verdi; indeed, it is the latter that returns to the Liceu next Thursday in a production by Willy Decker, with set design and costumes by John Macfarlane.

On stage will be Argentinean José Cura, a tenor who may cause many sighs in the stalls when he assumes this role. It has taken him several years to build a strong relationship with Liceu since his first, brief appearance when he replaced José Carreras in a production of Samson et Dalila until [last year] when he presented a passionate reading of Corsaro in a concert version of the Verdi opera.

"But this is the occasion I consider to be my debut," declared Cura to ABCD Arts and Letters. "Now I will be able to offer my take on this complex character, as well as accompany the debut of Kasimira Stoyanova in the role of Desdemona. I believe this will be the tenth soprano I accompanied in this baptism," continued the tenor who lives in Madrid.

José Cura believes certain superficiality exist in the analysis of the character of Otello.  "One does not think about what is behind his attitude. People go directly to the problem of jealousy, attributing this feeling as the only reason for the murder of Desdemona. If this were true, the story would be limited and lose a great deal of its importance. To make this mess over a handkerchief? No. I prefer to emphasize the character’s insecurity and attitudes which typify the behavior of a traitor."

The tenor eliminates the nobility, the heroism and loyalty, admirable characteristics that stand out in the interpretation of some of greatest singers, from his analysis. "It is important to remember that Otello is a traitor in all ways:  he betrays his faith, his race, his beliefs; he becomes a Christian for convenience, he transforms himself into a mercenary and he is contracted to attack his brothers, the Muslims. If we were to modernize the situation, it would be very difficult to understand, because nowadays it is very improbable that an Islamist would attack his own faith.  For that reason I believe that Desdémona has to know very little or nothing.  A traitor sees only treason on every side; an assassin sees only assassins and a mercenary sees only mercenaries. There is basically a reflection that makes one feel that everyone is just like he is.  Otello is blinded by the possibility of treason and reacts with the logic of his original culture.  If he were a Christian he would have killed Desdemona captured in an act of madness, not as he does, slowly, and without shaking hands, because he is a customary general to the war, to death and killing. They pay him to do that. He is a professional."

In José Cura’s reasoning there is little patience for this the sort violence. "In Otello’s eyes, he is not guilty in judging the hypothetical treason of his woman. He accepts it as fact, and therefore he feels he should not be punished for the murder, considers that he has the right to do it, that is the logical thing to do in his situation, that he has no other choice.  His big mistake was in not having the courage to face Desdemona and Casio together, watching with his eyes, as they deny their infidelity to him. Otello does not look for the truth because he is essentially a traitor...”

This situation, according to the singer, is translated very well in the score, "Mainly in the third act, psychologically the best one to understand the point of view of the character. In the first part of that act, Otello gets to behave as if he were the proper Iago.”  By all these arguments Cura says, “My Otello lacks nobility and heroism, something that is sometimes commented on.  And yes, I believe that this is the right approach.  I do not attempt to be noble or heroic in my interpretation, but a mercenary and a traitor to his faith and his people." In spite of this, the tenor knows that the character creates empathy with the public, "because it is also true that he has a certain destiny written in his hand: he is not the only one guilty of his destiny. Apparently, Otello was the son of a very important tribal leader, kidnapped by slave dealers. Thus there is a little justification the fact of to have been bred to transform himself into a bounty hunter [murderer for money], as happens in as many Christian societies as Muslim. For that reason, the opera of Verdi and the work of Shakespeare remains a reflection of our own society."

A Trapped Animal. José Cura defends the production of Willy Decker. "The cruelty of watching an animal trapped in its destiny is emphasized, which has been assigned to my character, I agree with. From the eye of the spectator this is a difficult production to endure because it is rigid, presenting four oppressive walls and a cross as the only prop, but I believe that the staging transmits the mood of the character well in suggesting a cruel confinement, that can be the representation of his false Christian faith, his betrayed Muslim faith or his racial fight.  It forces me to make Otello very feline in the way he moves around the stage because it is very sloped and prevents him from walking with nobility, something I am already good at. The cross is used as a crutch, a shoulder to cry on, a strongpoint. The production is disturbing in the beginning, but in the end the staging is useful in projecting the vision I have of this character."

Otello, premiered in Teatro de la Scala de Milán on 5 February 1887, arrived at the Liceu on 18 November 1890 for the first time, and did not reappear until season 1987-88, when, as now, Antoni Ros Marbà was on the podium.

 

 

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“My Otello is a traitor, not noble”

 

The singer is considered the best interpreter of the famous "Moor of Venice,” a character who has become the archetype of the jealous man and victim of manipulation

P. M.

7 Feb 2006

ABC

 

BARCELONA. Promoting the best Otello of the moment was a marketing ploy the Liceu could not let pass, and in introducing José Cura, Joan Matabosch, the Liceu’s artistic director, said: "We are very proud to have with us the best interpreter of this role at this time.”

The main character in the opera Otello (1887), a product of Verdi’s [artistic] maturity, is one of the signature roles of the Argentine singer, currently living in Madrid, whose relation with the Liceu began almost by accident when he arrived in March 2001 to replace José Carreras shortly before the opening of "Samson et Dalila."

One unforgettable night

After that unforgettable night –- one so memorable that with only that one performance the "Grup de Liceístes de 4. i 5è. Pis" awarded him the prize as the best singer of the season -- Cura made his official debut in January 2005, singing Il Corsaro, also by Verdi, but in concert version. This will be the first time he sings a staged opera with appropriate rehearsals, an occasion that allows visitors to the Liceu to enjoy the interpreter’s personality, when beginning next Thursday he steps into the skin of the archetype Verdian-Shakesperian character, alternating the role with Gabriel Sadé, under the musical direction of Antoni Ros Marbà, and appearing with Lado Ataneli as Iago and Krasimira Stoyanova as Desdemona, this last alternating with Ana Ibarra.

"It is a very difficult role, but it rewards the interpreter," Cura said. "I have been in 15 different productions and whenever I play the role I discover something new. That is why I am not surprised.”  Theaters compete to sign him for the role but he tries to take a rational approach to accepting offers for a character "who exhausts not only physically but also psychologically. In 2001, when the Verdi Year was celebrated, I sang in six or seven different productions and that was insane, but it helped me matured in the role. Now I try to sing no more than ten performances a year."

Cura says that Otello is a traitor to his faith, his people and his motherland, "for those reasons I do not consider him a noble man. But it is true that many of the great tenors, all of them noble interpreters, like Domingo, Vickers or Vinay, contributed a portion of themselves to the nobility to the character.  But in my interpretation, for all those reasons, he is not a hero. He is a mercenary, a military machine."

The Verdi opera being stage at the Liceu is the production Willy Decker designed for the Monnaie of Brussels that "puts it in the modern mode, crude, with almost nothing on the stage.  There are four walls that become a psychological prison for my character and, of course, for all the other actors.”

Schematic stage

“The only scenic element that appears on stage is a great cross that is broken, that becomes an arm that serves to support us.  When there is only us in the scene, we can never lower our guard.  That is a disadvantage that in the end is transformed into an advantage, because it demands an absolute commitment from us.”  This sort of success is not always obtained, says Cura, "because minimalism can hide a complete lack of ideas, but that is not true in this case.  It works for this opera but not for all, since not all are as brilliant as Otello, in which nothing is too excessive or lacking. For that reason limited staging like this one can be understood without great difficulty.   The tension is placed on the actors."

Another one of his talent as an artist is that of conductor, for which he has still not been offered a contract in Spain.

"I conducted two concerts with the Filarmónica Arturo Toscanini de Milán, with whom I also conducted I vespri siciliani. This year I make my debut on the podium of the Staatsoper in Vienna with Madam Butterfly. But I have not received offers of this sort in Spain." If his repertoire as conductor is growing, the same is also true of his operatic roles. "I recently added Fanciulla, Hérodiade and Turandot, reasons there is very little left in my Italian-French repertoire. Nerone has been offered to me as have the leads in Britton’s Peter Grimes and Wagner’s Parsifal and both are tempting. I will do the Nerone but I am afraid of the Grimes because musically it is very difficult, and Parsifal because of the language.  I do not speak German and to make my debut in Wagner, which I find appealing, I must do under optimal conditions."

Andrea Chénier in the dressing room

Next year, Barcelona will be able to see Cura in another of his great roles, Andrea Chénier, in the opera by Giordano of the same name.  That opera will inaugurate season 2007-08.

The Argentine singer declined to talk about the problems he had in Teatro Real in 2000 or to say anything about any conversations with the new director of the Madrid theater.  However, following the departure of Montserrat Caballé, Cura confirmed that he has broken contact "completely" with the Coliseo of the Three Cultures that was going to be built in Madrid by Jose Luis Moreno, whose offer of musical direction Cura had accepted. "Now all that is stopped. I will see what happens if Moreno contacts me but at the moment I don’t know anything."

José Cura, tenor: “I am a shark excited by blood“ The singer matches Placido Domingo in the challenge of singing two different roles in the same evening at the Arena di Verona La Razón Gema Pajares Translated by Dana Madrid. Arena di Verona opened its season last week. To the always attractive poster advertising the summer festival was added an additional enticement at the last moment:  it was announced a few days before the opening that the Argentine tenor José Cura, one of the leads on the poster for “Pagliacci” (in which he sings Canio), would also assume the role of Turiddu from “Cavalleria rusticana,” a role which he had not sung for six years.  Illness had forced Vincenzo La Scola to withdraw from the production “in extremis” which in turn offered the Argentinean the opportunity for the unusual doubleheader. In the more than 80 years of the history of this amphitheatre (with a 14,000 seat capacity), very few voices have dared this challenge. Cura’s name is now united with those of Placido Domingo (who sang both roles in 1975), Mario del Monaco and Beniamino Gigli.

José Cura, as Canio, during a performance of “Pagliacci“ by  Leoncavallo at Arena di Verona

 

- Will you sing the double roles in all performances?
- I will sing the five in July. In August I will disappear from the world.

- I imagine that you were petrified when asked to do Turiddu.
- It was a last minute decision. I was landing in Verona having come from Tokyo on the 20^th.  I arrived with echoes of “Andrea Chenier” in my ears.  June 21 was the pre-general rehearsal and on June 22, the general.  The season started on 24 June and I hadn’t sung “Cavalleria rusticana” in six years. It was a race against time. Temperature: 44 degrees.

- You really had only had two options: sing or run.
- That’s right. But we are speaking of the opening night of the most important open air theatre in the world. The day of opening is always a swarm, and this time was no different. I simply threw myself into the Arena with a knife between my teeth and yelled “banzai,” as the Japanese do.  I could not abandon the theater. Here I sang my first production in 1992 and here I lived for five years. My emotional attachment to this arena is great. I felt that this was one way I could pay my debts. The Arena opened its arms to me once and now I couldn’t say no when they needed me. How could I have left running?

-  Did you consider the possibility that the challenge could become a setback?
- No matter how much love and courage you put into a performance it still could turn out badly. The head that rolls is yours. Luckily the ovations have been enormous. The theater was full: 13,500 people were at the opening and the applause made me shiver.  I knew I had performed with my heart.

- Once again José Cura put the public of Verona in his pocket.
- You never put anybody in your pocket.  You have to remember one thing:  the physical distance [in the arena] is enormous. The spectator is far away, so far that at the very closest 90 meters separate us, and it is very difficult to perceive the heat, to feel the energy, to be conscious if you are pleasing or not when you are on stage. In addition, the temperature was 44 degrees and the humidity was 80 percent when the performance started. The seats are of marble, and stone begins to cool off at midnight. The heat is unbearable.

- Turiddu and Canio are totally different.
- Yes, there are differences, in age (one is 20, the other, 40), in psychology, in experiences, all of which demand accommodations with the voice, but I am a shark and I am excited by blood.

- Where do you feel more comfortable, on stage or in the pit conducting the orchestra?
- I am focusing more on my role as tenor. So many years I have fought for it, fifteen already, that I want to enjoy this period of artistic and personal maturity. When you are no longer in vocal fullness, then that is the right moment to grasp the baton. Let me put it this way, the moment the singer stops being effective is the same moment the conductor returns to the orchestra.

- You return to the Liceu Barcelona in 2007, nevertheless for Teatro Real you don’t have a date in your calendar.
- I open the season in Barcelona with “Andrea Chenier” in 2007, and in 2011 I will perform two roles. There is no chance in Madrid, where I can only sing in my house, sleep in my bed, and not perform for my many friends. I passed the new artistic director (Antonio Moral), but we hardly greeted each other and didn’t talk about anything. So it seems that Madrid has to wait. Hated and loved.

- You are a tenor who is as much loved as criticized.  Do you regret anything?

-No, I don’t regret anything [professionally], even the fact that newspapers criticize me with extreme prejudice. When I sang “Otello” they wrote this was the end of Cura and that I should retire. I hope I still have some professional years ahead of me! My only regret is that I am so often far away from my family.

- 2008 it is going to be an important year.
- I will make my debut in “Le Cid”, by Massenet in Zurich and I am researching “Peter Grimes,” which I have enormous desire to do. It is an opera in which I would like to make my debut in within four years.

After taking a vacation in August, I will sing “Le Villi” in Vienna and “Fanciulla del West” in Berlin in September, “Turandot” in October in Turin, “Tosca” in New York and then I will close the year with “Don Carlo” in Vienna. In 2007 I will visit Barcelona, London, Lisbon, Berlin, Cologne.

- The operatic situation in Italy remains worrisome. Is the budget cut of the previous government still affecting it?
- I would say it is as much a scandal as it is serious problem. The cuts have been tremendous; in some cases they have reached 45 percent. I believe that this will bring consequences in the long term. Right now the damage is not readily apparent because we are still eating off the reserves that are in the moneybox, but what will happen when the box empties? We will see if this new government is able to fulfill its promise and can give back funds.
   
In first person
He defines the idea of a Renaissance man: singer, conductor, photographer, painter, José Cura (Rosario, Argentina, 1962), is one of the  most distinguished Latin American tenors of his generation and an “Otello”  without equal, something that he plays down. He knows he raises passions and an almost equal amount of criticism everywhere in the world. In Madrid, where he lives, he still experiences rudeness from some because of an incident at the Teatro Real when he sang “Il trovatore” in 2000; he has not returned to the theater since. Visceral, energetic, vehement, his name has been associated with a pharaoh-like project, the Coliseo of Three Cultures, designed as an operatic complex that was going to be built in Madrid and where he was invited to participate as musical director: “Everything relating to me stopped in 2004. I know nothing new. If negotiations were to begin now, it would be necessary to start at zero.  Moreover I do not know if I could maintain a continuous relationship with the theater,” said the artist.

  

Life, love and opera - a tenor's worth

One of the world's most celebrated tenors, José Cura, opens the Belfast Festival at Queen's tomorrow night. Here, our classical music correspondent Rathcol catches up with the mellow maestro at his home in Madrid, and finds him insisting that good music is just like good wine and good sex - you just need to take your time.
 

19 October 2006

Maestro Cura, can I ask you a few questions about your forthcoming concert in Belfast? "Well, ok, yes, but I must tell you that I am drunk."

The interviewer's feeling of opportunity in such a situation is only equaled by that of apprehension. But there was nothing to fear here, of course.

"I've just come from a family celebration," he goes on. "But no, I'm joking of course, I'm fine."

In fact, talking to José Cura, on the phone from Madrid, after his lengthy and relaxed, typically Spanish lunch, proves to be the perfect time to enjoy the loquacious famous tenor.

Cura, one of the world's most celebrated singers, performs in Belfast at the Waterfront Hall tomorrow night, opening the 44th Belfast Festival at Queen's. I ask him about the music he'll be singing (including favourites from Puccini and Verdi) and how he chooses his concert hall programmes.

"Ah you've touched on a delicate point," he says. "The programme is a difficult thing to handle. As a curious artist you want to do strange and new things, but you also compromise with the great hits. This is the first time ever I sing in Belfast. I will give the people what they want to hear, and when I return I'll do something more rare."

It's easy to feel an instant friendship with this man;he hasn't yet set foot in the country, but he's talking about return visits, and throughout the interview he talks about building relationships.

Verdi and Puccini are the two main musical figures in any tenor's life. I seek out differences of approach for these two Italian masters, but Cura's musicality is a simpler, more direct form of expression.

"I approach everything the same way," he says. "From a strict musical and dramaturgical point of view. There is a problem with these concerts. What you have is little excerpts of theatrical pieces, of operas, and these pieces are out of context. You only have 50% of the product.

"What you have to do, in two, three, four minutes, is transmit the psychology of the character. This is the challenge. I like to interact with the audience and joke with the audience. The sensation of these concerts is completely different to the opera house - you don't have a single psychology in the one evening."

We move on to his Argentinian heritage. "Argentina plays a normal part in a well-balanced life," he says. "It's my country. It's like a mother, your mother is always your mother and always has a special place in your heart. After eight years I return to sing in Buenos Aires this year. It will be very special, but I am thoroughly European now."

I mention that Argentinian music, especially in the hands of tango master Ástor Piazzola, is very popular in Ireland at the moment ... "Ah yes, it has a very strong folk connotation," he says. "It's classical music written with our folkloric blend or smell. Like Kodaly or Bartok.

"It's like in Ireland and Scotland, there is a body relation with the rhythm and the drama is very strong."

Talking to Cura you realise that so many of his answers are easy, self-evident. This is what great artists do. They see a clear picture, a viable route, and they use it.

Take this answer: I ask Cura why, demanded as he is across the world as a singer, he chooses to conduct.

"To move a little bit the air," he says, charmingly, in English which is perfectly clear, yet thoroughly Spanish. "To include some change in the concerts. The point is, not a lot of people know I started my career as a conductor - I was 15 years old - and as a composer. I was 30 years old when I became a singer, when I became a famous larynx."

Cura is proud of his all round musicianship.

"I will conduct Giordano's Siberia, I think this is the first time it is performed in Belfast. We have a local premiere."

And the composition? "Composition is a complement to being a good singer," he says, "at the moment I'm revisiting an opera I wrote for children based on a Hans Christian Anderson story." He promises to let me know how it goes.

The subject which energises Cura the most is the role of opera in society and, in particular, the charge that the art form is elitist.

"It's one thing what people think opera is -people think opera is only for the elite. That's b******t," he insists. "Going to a football match is just as much about money. If you need that to excuse yourself, then you need to move to something else.

"Obviously, if you want to see Ireland play France then you will pay more, like going to La Scala, and with a local team you pay less.

"Classical is a dangerous word. It's an artform with very strong connotations of technique and intellect. It's true, you can't digest it like a hamburger.

"It's like looking at a famous painting ... you have to think about this. It's the same as classical music. It's not an obvious music... it's not pre-cooked and frozen.

"You open a good bottle of wine, you can't just drink it at once. You have to wait for three hours. People want everything in two minutes with minimum effort. You need the chance to prepare yourself.

"Opera, wine, sex - the common factor is patience. You need to take your time."

To finish, I tell him about the opera scene in Ireland. The trouble we've had in the past and the fact that, despite excellent work by companies like the Dublin based Opera Theatre Company, there has too often been a lack of vision and commitment from the people holding the purse strings, especially in the north.

His closing remark is typically magnanimous: "If I can be of any help, then please ask."

It seems that Belfast could have a new and influential friend.

Exclusive interview with JOSÉ CURA

ONE EVENING WITH JOSÉ CURA...

Réjane Suttheimer

May 2006

Translated by Dana

In the middle of May 2006 the heads of state and government of the European Union, Latin America and the Caribbean met in Vienna to discuss the political and economic relations of trade. At the same time non-government organizations also met to demonstrate alternatives to the official policy. In the middle of the conflict of these political summits the festival Onda Latina was organized, during which one of the most famous artists of Latin America, José Cura, was honored for his brilliant career and his untiring support of young artists and talents.

Onda Latina joined with Elite Tours for this special meeting to enjoy, together with the Maestro, the concert of the Duo Klaus Paier (Bandoneón and accordion) & Gerhard Preinfalk (clarinet), two outstanding composers and musicians. Maestro Cura even offered a small musical contribution: the “Sonetos de Amor y Muerte,” written by Nobel prizewinner Pablo Neruda and composed by José Cura.

He was accompanied by the Italian pianist Speranza Scappucci.

A brief Tango Exhibition with Elizabeth and Christian from Buenos Aires ended the successful evening and then friends and fans of José Cura had had the chance to get the autograph from the star.

---

Question from Réjane Suttheimer: Dear Maestro Cura, first of all I would like to thank you for this interview.  It is a big honour for me and our readers will be very pleased to read it.

Here is my first question: You sing tomorrow, on 15 May, “Le Villi” in the State opera and conduct the day after tomorrow “Madame Butterfly.” What is the difference for you between singing and conducting? Is there any emotional difference?

José Cura: On the emotional level both are equal for me. If someone is emotional and sacrifices everything--no matter whether as a conductor or as a singer--one gives everything.

The difference lies in the responsibility. The singer is primarily responsible for himself in his role and afterwards for his colleagues. The responsibility of a conductor is just the opposite.  He is responsible for all! It is simply turned around, a conductor is like a mediator, or if you prefer like a fuse (seen from electric point of view). The opera conductor is the junction between stage and pit. Because from the stage one does not see into the orchestra and the orchestra does not see onto the stage, the only one who sees both sides is the conductor. He is the connection, the mediator, between these two levels. And, because of the enormous concentration and even more because of the enormous responsibility, this is very stressful and exhausting.

R-S: You conduct for the first time at the Viennese State opera. How is it for you?

JC: I have conducted “Butterfly” quite often in the past, of course, but this is the first time I have conducted it in Vienna. Emotionally it is very delicate situation, because the conductor’s podium in the State opera pit is a very hot podium! All the great conductors, from Mahler to the present ones, have stood at this desk. Every time you stand there, you could say, well, at home we would say that you have ants in the back! (laughs) It is a big responsibility! Because of budget restrictions in the arts it is becoming more difficult to get the proper number of rehearsals. One actually always works on the edge, because there are too few rehearsals. I had only one and a half rehearsals. That is, one three hour rehearsal for a two and a half hour opera, where one 25 minute break is intended! It is therefore not actually a rehearsal but a quick run through without the possibility to correct anything.  And all this naturally increases the stress enormously.

R-S:  When you are studying a new role, do you get advice from anybody? Many singers work on new roles, even after years, with their vocal coaches.

JC:  On one hand, I should say yes so people won’t consider me arrogant. But on the other hand I don’t want to lie.  I haven’t had a teacher for more than 15 years. That was my decision. I wanted to develop my own style, my own sound and I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone.

That is why I don’t have my own Maestro but I get advice from everybody I work with.  When you work with great colleagues you say "What do you think, how was it?" or "This doesn’t sound good."  Even when great conductor says, "You know, I didn’t like this or that.”

From your own experience but mainly when you work with good colleagues, in good houses and with good conductors, it is this that makes you more secure than being dependent on   Maestro. But this is matter of opinion.

R-S:  Apropos of critics, who is your harshest critic?  Your wife? Yourself?

JC:  (Laughs) Probably myself!  There is not a single performance at the end of which I can’t say nothing went wrong or I didn’t like something.  And all those who are around me will say:  "No, it was good, stay calm, everything will work out fine."

But those who are most ruthless with me, because they can afford it, are my relatives, my wife, my assistants, my secretary.   They say the things as they are.  And this is only right. Because if you are a recognized person, famous, loved or hated, than you run the danger of living in the clouds.

R-S: Your occupation affects your private and family life. As you have already mentioned before, you are lot on the way. How do you and your wife deal with it?

JC: It is difficult, however not impossible.  Six or seven years  ago it was more difficult, as  my fee per performance was not as high as it is now and so, even if I had two free days between performances, I couldn’t afforded the  luxury  of getting on a plane and fly home.  It is much simpler now. As soon as I have 2 days free between performances, I jump on the airplane and fly home.  Especially when you are in Europe and can get home in two or three hours. No, actually, I am not away from my home more than a week.

R-S: How do your plans look like? Would you prefer to conduct and compose more than to sing? What do you intend?

JC: Actually of all something! I have further plans within all ranges.  At the end of this or the beginning of next year my first book with photographs may come out. A Swiss publishing house wanted the copyright to publish it. I have taken photographs for nearly 25 years. It began as a hobby and with the time developed further--not as a profession but photography is like a safety valve that allows me to switch off my profession. Since I don’t need to dedicate myself to the photography  commercially ,  I don’t  earn my living  by it, I don’t take portraits. I can concentrate and dedicate on social photographs. My pictures are mainly of people and people’s behavior around world, from Japan to the United States. The publisher said something interesting to me: “These photos interest me, because by them one understands what goes on in the head of the photographer. And that you are who you are, it gives your fans the possibility to see the world with your eyes.”  I liked a lot what he had said and here we are ready to do the book.

R-S: I find personally that your voice has a very soft, warm and actually dark timbre, like a baritone. At least it seemed to me in “Il Trovatore” in 2002. I know many singers who began their career as tenors and later changed to baritone. Do you still feel comfortable with the high notes?

JC: Funnily enough- and do not ask me why, because I do not know, but in the course of years my voice became much darker.  You mentioned “Il Trovatore” at Covent Garden from 2002. If you hear my voice singing the sonnets this evening, you will say that it has become even deeper in the meantime. I really sound like a baritone, like a deep baritone. But strange enough, the deeper my voice becomes, the easier it feels to me to hit the higher notes! I do not know what is happening, I can’t complain! Apparently the vocal cords adapt and between 40 and 50 a man reaches his optimal peak vocally, which goes well with my age. It is quite possible that I will lose the notes later and end my career as a baritone, but right now I have the high notes that I never had before!

R-S: And which are your projects as singer in the future? Some of your fans follow you around the world to see and hear you!

JC: Oh, I have many plans. I will open the season in Verona this summer.  In September I will return to Vienna with “Le Villi” again.  In October I will be at the Metropolitan Opera NYC with “Tosca,” then I will have a whole series of performances of “Don Carlo” in Zurich. Then I am again in Vienna. In January 2007 I have “I Pagliacci” in Berlin; in February 2007 I have a tour in Germany with an evening of sons and in April and May of the coming year I go to London with “Stiffelio”  in a production which I was actually finished with, but they asked me if I would like to do it one last time. In September 2007 I will be also in Barcelona again, with “Andréa Chenier.” Yes, and so I could go on until the year 2011! (Laughs)

R-S: Finally the last question:  opera is nearly always about love and passion. How you would define love?

JC: A difficult question! I do not believe that one can define love.  Anyone can define love one day will also be able to solve all the problems of mankind! (Laughs) I believe love cannot be defined; one can only celebrate it either with music or with words.

R-S: Maestro Cura, thank you very much for the discussion!

 

 

TROPPO ZUCCHERO?

José Cura conducts for the first time in Wiener Staatsoper

 

 José Cura, born in 1962 in Argentina, has long been one of the most popular tenors in the world. He began his career as a conductor, composer and pianist and learned to sing only within the scope of his conducting studies. He made his debut as an opera singer in 1992 and since then Cura has been a guest in major opera-houses around the world.  In 1996 he debuted as Mario Cavaradossi (Tosca) in the Vienna State opera.  We were able to see him here as Otello, Don José (Carmen), Canio (Pagliacci), and Andrea Chénier. In May, José Cura debuts as a conductor with Madame Butterfly in the State Opera; we will also enjoy him again as Roberto in Puccini’s first opera Le Villi.

José Cura spoke with Julia Engenderer (translated by Dana):

You will conduct for the first time in the Vienna State Opera. How do you prepare for a work which you conduct?

In the same way that I prepare as a singer--by careful study. The difference lies in the responsibility. As a singer you are responsible only for yourself, as a conductor for the whole ensemble.

Do you listen to different recordings of the opera or does this bother you?

Usually I avoid it. However, I listen to my own recordings to learn from my mistakes. With Puccini everything exists in the score so that if you follow the score, then you are safe.

You began, actually, as a conductor and pianist. Why did you come relatively late to singing?

This happened during my conducting studies. One of my teachers advised me to learn to sing to become a better conductor. I wanted to understand the phrasing and the breathing of singers. Without planning it in the beginning one thing led to another and one day I was a full-time singer.

Why have you decided, in the end to be a full-time singer and conductor less?

This was, actually, a social decision. I was studying in Argentina during the final phase of the military regime and at that time there was no future for me. I came to Europe and here it was simply easier to find work as a singer, especially as a tenor. I had small engagements as a conductor but I got more and more offers as a singer and this is the reason why I am now what I am — a singer.

Do you regret that you now have such little time to conduct?

Actually, there is nothing to regret if one is lucky and successful.  Perhaps I would like to have more time to work as a conductor. On the other hand, the career of a singer is much shorter in comparison. As a conductor one has the right experience and maturity only when older, at the age of 60 or so, so I think I still have enough time to transform slowly from singer to conductor as I grow older.

In the State Opera you appear one evening as a singer, next as a conductor. How do you manage this role change?

This is very difficult for me, but it is possible because Le Villi is such a short opera. With Otello, for example, this would be impossible.

 How does your work as a singer influence your work as a conductor and vice versa?

I love long phrasings and big curves in the orchestra, I love it when the orchestra breathes with the singers. Therefore, I would say that the singer influences the conductor more than the conductor the singer. Vice versa if I stand on the stage I try to follow the music with great discipline, and maybe that is the influence of the conductor on the singer. The advantage is that you always know what goes on when you know both sides.

That means you try to accompany the singers?

As a conductor I treat the singers in such a way as I would like to be treated as a singer. That is to give enough space to the singer for good breathing, to give him the feeling of being in good hands. However, I also try to make it clear to the singers that they are part of an ensemble and do not stand alone on the stage with the orchestra and the conductor running after them and trying to understand what the singer plans to do the next minute.

What would you reply to somebody who states that opera is an antiquated art form which  the world doesn’t need  any  more —  like the above mentioned  work  Puccini’s Madame Butterfly?

It is not true that things from the past have no right to exist. If we extinguish the past, we have no base upon which to stand and so fall down. This is like a building from which one removes the cellar — without the cellar the entire structure collapses. If one tries to look at opera, however, as if it were a science fiction film, then one begins to force things and then nothing fits. One must view and enjoy each piece of art it was meant to be and not to try to do it differently. This would be wrong.

Le Villi was Puccini’s first opera. How has his music of Le Villi developed to Madame Butterfly?

Tremendously. Le Villi still has a very easy orchestration, the harmonies are almost naive. Puccini developed [musically] in very short time, whereas other composers needed 30 years. Verdi needed even longer. He was like a good wine which matures slowly. If Puccini lived to the age of Verdi he would have met Stockhausen and Penderecki and who knows what he would have written then for music. That Puccini is somebody whom we will never know.

Madame Butterfly was not successful at first. Was it performed for the first time at the wrong time, or was it improved with the different versions?

 La traviata was also booed at first and now is Verdi's best known opera. We know only what we read and what people of that time have said. Toscanini wrote in a letter to Puccini: ' Dear Giacomo, there is too much sugar in this opera.' 'Troppo zucchero,’ he wrote.

Is it true? Is there "troppo zucchero" really in it?

No, I don’t think so. I am an emotional person and, therefore, I like sugar. Actually, this is a very cruel story and, unfortunately, a prophecy. Pinkerton was in Nagasaki as what we now call a sex tourist.

How was the work with Karoline Gruber in Le Villi?

She is an intelligent and sensitive director. I am not persuaded that her direction has a lot to do with the work.  I have already told her this. However, it was a very intelligent solution.

What do you expect from a director with whom you work?

I expect the same as from a conductor, namely that I work with somebody who knows the opera better than I do. He might teach me something. If one must work with somebody who is not prepared, one has the feeling of pulling something too heavy.

You have already sung many big roles. Is there a role outside your repertoire which interests you?

There is not so much for me except for the German repertoire which I don’t plan, however, at the moment, because I have a fear of German language. What I would do with pleasure is Nerone of Boito. I have also had offers for Peter Grimes, but I don’t believe I am ready for it yet.

You were thinking about managing an opera-house. What has become of it?

At the moment I simply do not have time for it. Maybe I will in ten years. Then I would take over the musical management of a house with pleasure. The artistic management would probably have too much bureaucracy for me.

 

 

 

 

The Argentine tenor opened the season with Cavalleria rusticana and Pagliaci

 “I have engagements until 2011 but next summer I will take a break to be with my family”

Cura, star of the Arena:  “I faced two challenges”

Engaged only for the role of Canio, Cura has been forced to interpret two works in the same evening. “It is enormously hard work, repaid by the applause. La Scala? They do not call.”

Verona  

Pierachille Dolfini

July 2006

“The great heat: I spent all evening getting water and integrators to recover the lost liquids.”

That is the first thing tenor José Cura recalls about his debut at Arena di Verona after taking the lead roles in both Cavalleria rusticana and Pagliacci. And there was more: “A few minutes before the start – I was told - the thermometer on the stage of the Arena registered 40 degrees.”  In the mind of the Argentine tenor, one of the most popular singers in the world, it is not the thundering applause or the emotions of an opening night that lingers but memories of “the great heat.”

In addition to the high temperatures, Maestro Cura faced yet another challenge:  prepared for Pagliacci, Cura also ended up singing Cavalleria rusticana after Vincenza la Scola was forced to cancel.  Someone should speak [to the Arena] about planning…

“When I discovered I had to do both Turiddu and Canio in the same evening, I had to figure out how to manage my energy.  Certainly it was a surprise when I arrived at the Arena:  I had just returned from Japan, where I had been on tour in Andrea Chénier with the Teatro Communal di Bologna, and I had to go onstage for the pre-general rehearsal, still suffering from jet lag. And it had been seven years since I had last been in Cavalleria, since I had last sung Turiddu.”

How has it gone?

“It has been beautiful to rediscover in the vocal chords a character like that of Mascagni’s and to confront this opera in a new light, one that has been given a “symphonic” reading from the orchestra’s conductor, Lü Jia.”

On purpose, before the Intermezzo of Cavalleria, the Chinese maestro put down the baton and asked the public for silence.

“The public continued to make noise as too many latecomers continued to enter the Arena.  Even worse was the attitude of those who, before the end of the work, hurdle toward the exits.”

I heard that at the end of Pagliacci, when Canio races across the stage, he had to slalom between spectators. 

“Blinded by the lights, I collided with someone.  It was a disagreeable episode that kept me from enjoying the evening until the end of the applause.”

Which of the other works from the playbill at the Arena would you like to sing here?

“I would sing Tosca under the direction of De Ana. I am confident that, being a new production, it will be resumed in the upcoming seasons.  I can see myself in the rotation.”

In you calendar of performances, it says that summer 2007 will be “a sabbatical with the family.”

“It will be a little time to away from the world to spend time with my family, my wife and children.”

Where are you going and what are you doing?

“I go to the Metropolitan with Tosca and I return to London in Stiffelio, which I sang there in 1995 giving me the start of my international career.”

In Italy, however, we don't see you often.

“I would like to sing here more often, I don’t deny it.  I have received some invitations, but much too late:  I have signed contracts until 2011 and it is hard to find spots for theaters who program from one year to the next.  I will be to Turin in October to inaugurate the season with Turandot and in 2008, I will be in Edgar. I will return to Bologna with Samson et Dalila, my warhorse that I have not sung in Italy since 1997.”

And La Scala?

“We are not currently in negotiations for anything.  Not to be on the marquee at La Scala, when I sing at all the greatest theaters in the world, does not seem a failure to me but something to regret.  I think that sooner or later they will invite me.”

Interview 15/4/2006

Without Make-up: The Real José Cura

From Gay.Tv

José Cura: Without The Make-up

 

He has been on the stages of theatres the world over. These days, he also gives himself to conducting. Here’s a look at his private side, at his passions and his fears.

 

His principal character trait?

Obstinacy.

 

His principal flaw?

The same: being too stubborn.

 

Sign of the Zodiac?

Sagittarius. Pisces ascendant.

 

Superstitions?

Absolutely not.

 

What did he always want to be when he grew up?

An adult. The kind of man we call “serious”; in reality I have remained the perpetual child.

 

Ever screamed revenge?

Only in operas. In real life, that doesn’t lead to anything.

 

The book that has left a mark on you?

The Mediocre Man. A book by José Ingenieros, an Argentinean philosopher. I reread some chapters, some parts of it often.

 

What is lacking the most in your life at present?

Certainly the time for everything that I do and would like to do. It seems to me that I never have enough of it.

 

What importance do you attribute to money?

I believe the right and proper one: I have known how it is to live without and now that, thank God, I’m not wanting, I realize there is a great deal of difference.

 

What are you worried about?

It bothers me to think of not being present for what’s going on in my family, however big or small these things may be: from my son’s ballgame to my teenage daughter’s first love. In essence, it worries me to be an absentee father.

 

What kind of authority and power would you like to have? A political role?

Political; absolutely not! I have been offered posts as artistic director and other positions in the music field, but at present, I intend to make more music, to sing and conduct.

 

Who or what embarrasses you?

More than embarrassed I feel irritated about those who consider my career for the most part tied to being, shall we say… “fairly good-looking”. I believe that I have proven myself a serious professional, the ‘afterlife’, so to speak, of my strengths and weaknesses. My looks already show the marks of time. I’m getting greyer all the time; the process is relentless.

 

The circumstance that’s the most relaxing and calming?

To be at home….I also would like to succeed in staying put at the house for 15 days in a row!

 

Favorite subject in school?

I must confess that I did not like school much. I used to be an ‘anarchist’; I used to escape the rules that school imposes on you. However, I mainly loved subjects, material that dealt with the humanities.

 

Favorite city?

I don’t have a favorite city. I am a citizen of the world. A true gypsy.

 

Favorite color?

Red.

 

The ideal vacation?

To be at home.

 

Day or night person?

With the type work I do, I find myself living at night to a great extend. But by nature, I am not a night owl.

 

The film you like best?

I have always liked Spielberg’s “Hook” very much and still do.  As a father, it has made me think a lot, and I would recommend it to all fathers.

 

The season of the year?

Spring.

 

Your relationship to food?

A note of regret. Just now that I have gone on a diet again, it is a, shall we say…delicate subject. It is clear that I have a very good relationship with food.

 

Favorite dish?

Nothing fancy. Plain pasta but literally smothered in aged Parmesan…you could say that I eat Parmesan with a little pasta for decoration.

 

Red or white wine?

Red wine for sure. I would say a full-bodied wine like the “Barolo”.

 

Favorite singer?

I have loved Karen Carpenter, the voice of the group “The Carpenters”, best. I confess, I wept when I learned that she was dead.

 

Your relationship to television?

I only watch the news.

 

What should never be missing from your bedside table?

Disney cartoons. Reading “Topolino” is very relaxing to me.

 

And in your dressing room?

I’m Spartan. No particular object. Only a bottle of water and one of tea.

 

How would you want to die?

If possible of old age, but I would add two options: one-an “heroic” death, battling an illness. The other, let’s say, an ‘easier’ and more painless death: in my sleep.

 

Your frame of mind at present?

Positive to the max.

 

Your motto?

Carpe diem—Seize the day and make the most of it.

 

Translation: M.B.