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The Need to Lead
by Philip Kennicott
Opera News
June 2005
(excerpts)
In 1997, at Opera Theatre of St. Louis, the distinguished tenor Anthony Rolfe-Johnson conducted a production of Monteverdi’s Orfeo. Rolfe-Johnson is a fondly remembered practitioner of the title role, but for these performances, he was in the pit — or rather, he was until the very end, when he emerged (with the musicians still playing behind him) to sing the small role of Apollo, onstage. Apollo sings to his son, Orfeo, played on those evenings by the blushingly young tenor Gregory Turay. The image of the two men, a veteran trying a new challenge and a novice proving his strength, was strangely powerful. And the fact that Rolfe-Johnson had been leading the whole show up until his magical transformation into Apollo only added to the paternal, even divine presence he projected.
What singer wouldn’t want to taste that power? Apparently most of them. The piano is still the Royal Road to a career in conducting. Exceptions, such as Nikolaus Harnoncourt, a cellist, only prove the rule. Singers, for the most part, have not taken up the baton. Plácido Domingo, of course, is the most notable of the exceptions, and another beefy, baritonally-inclined tenor, José Cura, includes conducting among the basic musical skills upon which he has built a multi-faceted career. (He has led the ensemble supporting him on several recordings and released albums of symphonic music by Rachmaninoff and Dvorák.) Bobby McFerrin, admired for his improvisatory vocal virtuosity, has used his star power to get some conducting gigs as well, but the results have hardly been a critical success. But beyond that, there’s not much. Singers who conduct are a rare beast.
Yet conducting is in many ways a product of singing. In the beginning, as Renaissance music became more and more complex and melding the various voice lines became more difficult, someone needed to beat time — and that someone was very likely a singer within the ensemble. The increasing complexity of opera, in later centuries, contributed significantly to the virtuoso technique of contemporary conducting. Images of late-eighteenth- and early-nineteenth-century opera performances show the conductor standing at the apron of the stage, back turned to the orchestra, beating time and giving cues directly to the singers in front of him.
It’s tempting to draw some obvious conclusions. The cult of the singer, stronger at some times than others, ultimately spoiled them for the hard intellectual work of making sense of a score. The singer as narcissist, lumbering toward the acoustical sweet spot on the stage, is satisfied to have his or her own line sound spectacular. Never mind the rest of the business, with the orchestra and chorus and all that. The singer knows, and loves, a single thread. Pianists, on the other hand, are schooled in polyphonic complexity from the moment they first come under the tutelage of a not-so-kindly German piano teacher, with a ruler for rapping the knuckles. For them, managing an orchestra is just another degree of difficulty, just a little more ear-training.
But this is caricature. To sing well, singers must listen, and good listening is the prerequisite of a thorough command of the score. ... Something sinister in the opera-lover’s mind gives the retiring singer few options for respectability after the voice goes. They are allowed to give a few master classes, perhaps teach privately, and to emerge, whenever some record company releases their old recordings in new formats, as if perfectly preserved in the niter and myrrh of Ego. If they’re tired of work, they should move to Switzerland and knit. No matter how much we mouth the usual clichés about art as exploration, about the need of restless artists to seek ever-greater challenges, singers who stray too far from the usual patterns are suspect.
Perhaps Cura, who put conducting among his ambitions early in his career, will make the path Domingo blazed even more respectable for singers. Strangely enough, it may be a young singer who wants it all who will prepare the public for singers who aspire to the podium. That could be a very good thing. Today’s young vocalists, if they seek it out, have unprecedented access to a broad and deep musical education. That, mixed with curiosity, ambition, a driving need to know the score down to the last inner voice, is not just the sort of thing that makes a great conductor. It might very well be heard as a palpable quality of intellect — in the voice.
Last Updated: Friday, November 16, 2007
© Copyright: Kira
