Baritone Richard Stilwell
A Conversation with Bruce Duffie
|Hailed by The New York Times as
"representative of the best type of American singing actor," Richard Stilwell
has appeared regularly with the major opera companies of the United States
and Europe. His performances have taken him to La Scala, Covent Garden, the
Paris Opera, Deutsche Oper Berlin, the Vienna Staatsoper, Teatro de la Zarzuela
Madrid, the Holland Festival, and Glyndebourne Festival, as well as the San
Francisco, Los Angeles, Dallas, Chicago, Washington, St. Louis, Seattle, and
Metropolitan Operas in the United States. Stilwell has collaborated with
Leopold Stokowski, Aaron Copland, Leonard Bernstein, James Levine, Zubin Mehta, Seiji Ozawa,
Sir Colin Davis, André
Previn, James Conlon,
and Lorin Maazel. His
recordings include “Le nozze di Figaro”
(Haitink), “Pelléas et Mélisande” (von
Karajan), the CBS “Il ritorno d’Ulisse
in patria” by Monteverdi, and both “Messiah” and the Brahms’ “Ein deutsches Requiem” with the Atlanta
Symphony (Robert Shaw).
Stilwell also appears in the Unitel film of “Falstaff” with Sir Georg Solti, and on
the soundtrack of the Academy award winning film, “Amadeus”.
Names which are links refer to interviews with Bruce Duffie elsewhere on
The brief bio above reflects the current (2013) state of the career of
Richard Stilwell. The interview you are about to read, however, dates
from 1980, when he was in the early stages of this significant journey.
The week before we met, I had done the first of my three interviews with
While in the studio, one of the cats had jumped down onto the desk, whereupon
the conductor started playing with it, and continued to do so during the
first several minutes of our conversation. I mention this because the
same little gray cat (named Charlie) was again in the same studio and approached
Stillwell just as we were setting up . . . . .
Bruce Duffie: Maestro
Pritchard said it reminded him of his cat at home.
Richard Stilwell: Oh, yeah? I have cats, too.
I’m a cat person.
tend to be. I wonder why, rather than dog people or parakeet people?
RS: I don’t
know. I guess they understand cats somehow more than other pets.
Cats are more artsy, maybe [laughs], than dogs.
BD: More self-regulatory,
too, to take care of.
RS: Yes, independent.
[Vis-à-vis the recording shown at right, see my Interviews
with Tatiana Troyanos,
Patricia Kern, and Raymond Leppard.]
BD: I suppose
it’s easier to take care of a cat than to have to walk a dog twice a day,
rain or shine.
RS: This is
true, and it’s a problem with a dog with the traveling all the time, too.
BD: How do you
get around the traveling? Is that a big problem?
RS: It’s not
fun, but it’s part of the game. It’s what it’s all about. You
manage. My wife travels with me most of the time. We take an apartment
or a house, depending on where we are, so we just make a home away from
home. It’s not like living in a hotel, where you have to eat out all
the time. We don’t have any children, so it’s no problem.
BD: When you
have children you’ll have to make other arrangements.
RS: Some of
our colleagues have a couple of kids, and I don’t know how they do it.
They go up the wall is what they do a lot of the times, admittedly.
beginning the interview] First, are you aware that you are in the new
Grove? [See my Interview with Stanley Sadie,
Editor of The New Grove Dictionary of
Music and Musicians.]
RS: In the new
Grove? No, I’m not aware
You have achieved a state of immortality.
Thank you. How often does the Grove
come out — every year, or what?
BD: No, no,
no. This is a brand new edition of the big encyclopedia. It
used to be nine volumes. Now, the new edition which is just out is
twenty volumes. It’s the standard reference of the English-speaking
RS: Oh, my goodness!
It’s good to know. You just made my day.
BD: I’d like
to talk with you about contemporary opera. You have almost a unique
position, in that you are a leading exponent of contemporary opera and a leading
exponent of early opera. You seem to have really aligned yourself with
both of these. I have a theory that there is something more akin to
these two factions, as opposed, say, to new opera and Wagner or Verdi.
RS: Yes, I think
you’re right. As far as contemporary opera, I’ve done Tom Pasatieri’s
works which are certainly contemporary, but other than Tom’s works, I have
done a couple of things by Britten — if you want to call him
contemporary. He’s already not really contemporary, but
I guess so, in a way. I’ve done a couple of his things but other than
that I haven’t done that many contemporary pieces.
BD: Do you find that contemporary opera is split
into two — the kind that’s singable and
the kind that’s not singable?
RS: Yes, exactly.
But I enjoy a good performance of Wozzeck,
for instance, which is more singable than many contemporary things, or Lulu, this kind of thing, although I
don’t think I would ever take part in anything like that because it’s not
what I’m all about as a performer. But back to the business of the
similarity between the contemporary pieces and the very earliest pieces of
Monteverdi, there is definitely correlation there because the words were
all important. There’s a hybrid arioso style, as somebody once said,
about Monteverdi, which I love in particular. I’ve done both Poppea and the Return of Ulysses, which by the way,
just came out on recording. As to performing, it’s fantastic because
for me Monteverdi is really dramatic music theater; the way he shaped phrasings
and everything, and the words — such wonderful poetry with his pieces.
In that same line I was thinking Menotti, which is certainly
contemporary, in fact has that same kind of hybrid arioso recitative style.
I had forgotten that until you mentioned it, and particularly Maria Golovin, which I have done in Marseilles
and at the Paris Opera in French, and in Italian in Trieste in Italy.
I’ve never done it in English yet, but I think I am going to in Charleston
for the Spoleto Festival. I love this kind of style, where the words
are important and the action is important. [Vis-à-vis the
recording shown at left, see my Interviews with Simon Estes, and Michael Gielen.]
BD: For a long
time, a contemporary composer such as Menotti would be maligned, because
he wrote nice tunes. Do you think we are now coming around to the idea
that maybe this is not so bad after all?
RS: Yes, I think
so. There’s a way to put your own stamp on a piece and yet to write
a tune. For a while it seemed music was going in the direction that
went further out and further out — John Cage, and this kind
of thing. Then some of the things were really unsingable, practically,
just to stretch the vocal limits. A lot of my colleagues experienced
situations where they had done too much of that, and in fact got into vocal
trouble because they were trying to make the vocal cords do something they
weren’t meant to do.
BD: Do you find
that a composer such as Pasatieri really understands the voice?
This is the point, because Tom really is a singer’s composer. He loves
singers and writes for singers. He knows the people quite often that
he writes for. He wrote the role of Constantine in The Seagull for me specifically.
BD: Is that
a special thrill for you to know the part was written around your voice?
RS: Yes, it’s
kind of nice. He would collaborate with me and say, “What note would
you like here?” and then say, “That’s fine. Good.” I did another
one of his pieces, Ines de Castro,
which I thought was wonderful. I think he’s re-writing it and re-doing
it. It was done in a Baltimore world premiere, but hasn’t been done
RS: I don’t
know. I can’t tell you.
BD: It seems
that it’s not particularly difficult to get a work done once. The difficult
part is to get it done that second or third time.
RS: Yes, this
is it. The Seagull has certainly
proven itself to be a wonderful piece. It has been performed all over
the United States now.
BD: Would that
kind of work play well in a large house as well as a small house?
RS: We’ve done
it. I don’t know what you call a large house, but it was world premiered
in Houston. We also did it at the Washington Opera, Kennedy Center,
which is a pretty good-sized house, and it played beautifully. It’s
a wonderful piece.
BD: Do you find
the audiences respond to that?
RS: Oh, yes!
First of all it’s in English, which a lot of people love. There are
opera buffs that don’t care if it’s in English or whatever, but a lot of
people do. Then that kind of work actually draws in a lot of theater
people, surprisingly enough, because it’s based on Chekhov and Tom stays
very close to the play. So you get a cross mixture of theater audience
and opera audience and musical comedy audience.
BD: Do you feel
this is a good thing, to bring more people who are not so much involved
in opera through this door?
Any way to get them in! [Both laugh]
BD: If they
will come to see a Pasatieri work like The Seagull, do you think they would
also be interested in Trovatore
or Eugene Onegin or Poppea or Pelléas?
Richard Stilwell at Lyric Opera of Chicago
1972 - Pelléas et Mélisande
(Pelléas) with Pilou, Petri, Arié; Fournet
1975 - Orfeo ed Euridice
(Orfeo) with Cotrubas
1977 - Orfeo ed Euridice
(Orfeo) with Shade
Barber of Seville
with Ewing, Alva, Montarsolo
Desderi; Bellugi; Gobbi
Callas Tribute Concert
Bartoletti, Fournet, and others
1978 - Don Pasquale
with Evans, Blegen
1979 - [Opening Night] Faust
(Valentin) with Freni
1980 - Don Giovanni
; Pritchard, Ponnelle
(Production Designer and Director)
Italian Earthquake Relief Benefit Concert
with Battle, Buchanan
1982 - Così fan Tutte
(Guglielmo) with Yakar, Howells
1985-86 - Madama Butterfly
(Sharpless) with Tomowa-Sintow, Dvorský
, Del Carlo
1990-91 The Voyage of Edgar Allan
] (Griswold) with Kaasch
, Swenson, Futural;
1991-92 - Madama Butterfly
(Sharpless) with Malfitano
, Leech, Romanò;
Gatti, Prince (Director)
2011-12 - Magic Flute
with Cabell, Castronovo/Shrader, Degout, Luna, Groissböck/Boyer;
think that yes, many would. Of course everybody has their favorites.
It’s funny... some people only love Puccini or Verdi, but I’ve talked with
a lot of people who particularly love Pelléas
and say it’s their favorite opera.
Other people can’t get into that one; it’s beyond them; it’s one of these
operas you’ve got to study or become familiar with after a while.
There’s no place to applaud. I have a theory that it’s because within
Pelléas it’s one long line
of music. It goes on from act to act with no real stopping place because
there are orchestral interludes that follow immediately after action on stage.
So the people don’t quite know what to make of it, I guess. You’ve
got to get yourself in a proper state of mind to watch Pelléas. You’ve just got
to settle back and let yourself be transported into another time and place.
BD: How does
something like Pelléas compare
with the works of Pasatieri?
RS: Pelléas is a lot of words, interestingly
enough. It’s this kind of sustained recitative so the big difference
is just what we’re talking about. Pelléas, the Menotti operas, the
Pasatieri pieces all tend to have more emphasis on words. It’s the
counterpart to the bel canto, where
everything is florid; everything was the voice, and what really happened
on stage in the words was almost secondary to what the voice was doing.
I realize that it’s important to have a beautiful voice, but for what I’m
about, it’s the drama. I’ve said this many times — it’s
the acting, it’s the feasibility of the character, so that people can look
up and say, “Yes, I can believe that person would be the person he’s portraying,”
without having to stretch the imagination. This is the most important
aspect for me.
BD: What about
something that is more angular, more atonal, where it’s really more drama
and the music is disjointed?
RS: Such as
the operas that do not fit comfortably in the voice; that are really more
drama clothed in music that may or may not be appropriate. We’re talking
about two different things here — operas that are quite
singable as opposed to operas which are not singable.
RS: I really
don’t do anything that isn’t singable.
BD: Have you
been asked to do things that you have turned down?
a couple of things. I can’t think offhand, but nothing that sticks
out in my mind because these things all go through agencies and through my
manager, and he knows me very well. He’s a good friend, and so...
BD: ...he protects
you from that?
If it’s something that he knows, he knows me so well that he wouldn’t approach
me about something that wasn’t right for me.
* * *
BD: You were
talking about some operas which are in English as being a big plus.
What about opera in translation?
RS: I’m ambivalent
about that. I can understand the audiences wanting to hear some things
in English, but it’s so difficult to accept some of these translations and
make them work. For instance, I just did Onegin in Santa Fe in English.
The opera is based on the Pushkin poem. It’s a long poem, and in the
Russian it’s beautiful. But when you start rhyming in English it all
sounds like Mother Goose! How do you get away from this?
BD: So you decide
not to rhyme, then?
RS: We actually sat down and decided that at the
expense of a couplet sounding ludicrous we would just strike the rhyming
altogether and get to the sense of the words and the drama and what was happening.
You don’t want titters and guffaws in the audience when it’s meant to be
dramatic silence, and this has happened sometimes! So, it’s a problem.
It really is a problem. I understand some of Andrew Porter’s translations
are very good.
translations are wonderful! He’s the outstanding translator today.
I haven’t heard any, unfortunately, but if he can take the time necessary
to put it all together, then it’s super. I wish him lots of luck in
BD: As I understand,
his method of working is to sit down and listen to the phrase in the original
over and over again, and all of a sudden the English words just begin to
fit into it. It’s almost like it transforms itself into the English,
rather than just plugging in a correct translation.
RS: That would
be good, yes.
BD: If you were
asked to sing Orfeo or Pelléas in English, would you
take the trouble to re-learn it?
I would never sing Pelléas
in English because that, of all operas, cannot be translated. That is
so, so French, I can’t imagine it in any other language. I know it
has been done in other languages, but for me it’s not right. The language
is almost as important as the music and the drama, and it’s just, I think,
untranslatable. Actually the Menotti works very well, curiously enough,
in French and Italian. In fact, Gian Carlo told me that he thought
the Maria Golovin worked best in
French — better, in fact, than English.
BD: Have you
done The Last Savage? The first
performance of that was in French.
RS: No, I never
did do that.
about the modern works of Pasatieri, Menotti, Britten — the
ones that are very singable — and going back to the
Monteverdi works, is there a clear pattern that we’ve lost melody, or did
we go on a by-road?
RS: We went
from the words and the poetry being very important in Monteverdi and Cavalli
into the bel canto where the voice
and the sound the voice made was everything, and where the words became
very secondary. Then we have sort of come back to the fact that the
words are, in fact, very important.
BD: Did Monteverdi
not write some passages which allow the voice to really shine and show off?
RS: Oh, yes!
BD: And does
RS: But not
for its own sake. This is the big difference — not
just to let the voice go for its own sake. He would let the voice
go when the piece called for it dramatically, and only then. Otherwise
it was a kind of arioso or recitative, which some people today may think
is kind of boring, but I think it’s wonderful.
Do you think that the works of Monteverdi speak to us today?
RS: Oh yes,
definitely, more so than most other operas because they’re concerned with
true human feelings. There’s nothing more touching in the world for
me than the final scene in The Return of
Ulysses. After twenty years of wandering, and finally, after
having slain all the suitors of Penelope, in an incredible show of force
and kind of teatro coup he’s finally reunited with her. She still can’t
believe it’s him because many people through the years have said that they
were the returned Ulysses. He convinces her, and this melting music
— when she realizes it is him and she lets down her guard after
twenty years and accepts him — Monteverdi catches
it to a tee and you can’t help but be moved. I did this piece with
Janet Baker in Glyndebourne once, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.
It was one of those things where we were both transported beyond, into a
fourth dimension. We have talked about it since, and it’s the kind
of thing you experience once or twice in your lifetime. Monteverdi
captures this wonderful love that has been lost and regained, and in this
one particular performance we both were transported. I didn’t remember
watching the conductor or anybody else. I was totally lost in it, and
curiously enough, she was, too. I love this kind of thing, and it’s
the kind of thing you can try for the next performance, but it doesn’t work.
All the circumstances together worked that night, and the audience felt
it, too. My manager was in the audience, and he said he couldn’t believe
it. The intensity and all was so strong. Everybody was in tears
in the audience, and, well, I was, too. I could barely get through
the duet because the emotional aspect was so strong! But this is what
I mean about Monteverdi capturing the essence of humanity and what love
means and what faith means. These things that quite often lost sometimes
in the musical passages of other operas. I don’t know how to explain
BD: One of the
nineteenth century composers you have sung is Donizetti. How does
he compare with the other names we are talking about?
he was doing the bel canto number.
You’d sing an aria and the cadenzas were put in. I am not putting
Donizetti down; I enjoy doing Don Pasquale¸
for instance. It’s a comic opera, so it’s a totally different kind
of thing, but already the cadenzas were put in, and it was the voice saying,
“Look what I can do on this, and look at this high note I can make!”
Really it was removed from the drama or what was happening, whereas Monteverdi
never swerved from that story line all the way to the end.
BD: Do you approve
of the way Maestro Leppard handles re-orchestrating and punching it up just
a little bit?
I love this. Of course this is another big argument between the purists
and the Leppardists... I’m not a purist in that sense. I’ve
seen and heard some of these so-called Monteverdi realizations by Harnoncourt,
for instance, and a few others, and I was just bored to tears. I thought
this is why Monteverdi doesn’t have a greater following.
BD: Is that
something too far removed from our day and age, then as we head into the
The thing is we don’t really know how Monteverdi was performed. Raymond
Leppard’s argument is that in his day instruments which were available would
have been used. Therefore, he includes trombones. This kind
of thing he puts into his pieces. All that’s left of the scores of
Monteverdi are the vocal line and the bass line. Actually, everything
else was improvised after months of rehearsal.
would improvise in the style that they were accustomed to?
BD: They all
knew what was expected of them, and we don’t.
RS: Yes, we
BD: Taking that
argument one step further then, why do we not add saxophones or synthesizers
or gongs and things like this?
We might, but then that’s maybe carrying it a bit too far. For me,
it’s that Raymond’s realization gives the work a richer tapestry and something
you can get your teeth into a little more. With the others, I find
that there are so many plinks and plunks, and there’s nothing to hold onto,
really. Of course, they maintain this is the way it would have been
done in his time. Raymond says, “No, it would not have been done that
way, and nobody really knows.”
BD: Is it possible
that the human development, the voice as the strength of people, has gone
beyond what the instruments would have been capable of, and so Leppard has
just simply moved the instruments along to keep pace with human physical
RS: This could
be true; also for the size of the houses that we perform in, this is very
BD: So what you want
to do, then, is give a performance that speaks as much as it can to the
audience that’s going to be seeing it?
RS: Yes, exactly.
BD: How much
control can you as a singer — even a leading singer
— exercise over details of this kind, of production or instrumentation?
If you were involved in a production that you felt was really going astray,
going haywire, how much could you argue for changes?
Yes, this is a problem. There’s always compromise, or at least most
of the time you can get compromise from directors. I’ve done, for
instance, Pelléas in many
different productions, and some ways work better than others. But
on occasion, several times in fact, when a producer will come with an idea
about a different way to approach it, I’m not one to pooh-pooh that idea.
I really will go along with just about anything if I feel that I can work
within that and still make the character believable.
So you will try an experiment?
RS: Oh yes,
I will certainly try. Sometimes it doesn’t work. I’ve had arguments
with directors, and on occasion refused certain direction because I felt
it simply would not work. These have been pretty rare, though.
By and large I will go along with the director. I like a good director.
I like somebody who has a lot of ideas. This is why I like Ponelle
very much, and he is sometimes criticized for going too far. Perhaps
he does. By going too far, I mean over-directing, you might say.
But some of my best work has been done with him, and I think he is a real
theater man. So in that sense, we believe in the same thing.
We have a good rapport.
BD: It’s really
a belief in theater, belief in presentation as a whole?
RS: Yes, very much,
and also conviction that what you’re doing is so important. If there’s
one thing I hate more than anything about opera, it’s seeing a performer
who lets his mind wander for a while on stage. You can see it.
Keeping with the drama constantly is very important.
BD: Especially when
you’re not singing!
when you’re not singing. That’s right, that’s right.
BD: You’re a
participating character, but someone else has the aria.
RS: That’s right.
It’s reacting, not only acting but reacting with conviction, with believability.
This is one of my pet peeves, when I see performers who perhaps can get by
with their glorious voices, but then let down when somebody is performing.
BD: So, you wait until
you get offstage before you let down?
BD: What is the place
of recordings in all of this? How do recordings fit into the stream
of opera-as-theater, and do they set up an impossible standard.
RS: I haven’t
done that many recordings, frankly, so I’m not well-versed on this.
BD: For instance,
there are so many excellent recordings of La Bohème. If you were asked
to sing in a new La Bohème,
RS: A recording
of it? Yes, I would because I like the character of Marcello.
It would depend on what the opera was going to be, and the character, but
I think I can make something of Marcello. I’m doing several performances
coming up with the Met and several places in Europe, so yes I would certainly
do that. I just recorded Ulysses,
and I hope that as far as this recording goes, that it will introduce people
to this work and Raymond’s realization, which had never been recorded.
Perhaps will turn several people on to Monteverdi because, as I’ve expressed,
I think he’s the greatest. I hope that also affords us an opportunity
to perform this piece on several other stages in the United States and other
places in the world. It’s incredible to think that the North American
premiere of Return of Ulysses was
just done in Washington about four or five years ago .
BD: Do you think
there are other great works that are languishing on the shelf?
RS: Yes, I do.
This is another interesting thing, because Raymond has always maintained
that he’s convinced that there are other of Monteverdi’s works that are lost
in the libraries of some palazzi in Venice.
BD: Of the ones
that are listed as lost, do you think they really exist?
To think that there are only bits and pieces left! It’s unimaginable.
BD: We’re always
lamenting for the rest of Arianna,
and all that’s left is the “Lament.”
RS: Yes, right.
Exactly. Some of these old nobility in Venice have these incredible
libraries, and he’s convinced that somewhere amongst the debris is stuck
an original Monteverdi that someone has put up there somewhere and just
forgotten about. So he’s trying to befriend some of these people for
the chance to get in, but they’re quite often very reluctant to let anybody
come in and search. It’s invasion of privacy and all this sort of thing.
I hope in my lifetime they find at least one other Monteverdi opera.
It would be incredible.
BD: What about
some of the things that were done in the nineteenth century? Some
of these are now languishing on the shelves — the unknown works of Giordano
and Mascagni and Montemezzi.
RS: I have not
performed any of the obscure works of verismo artists, so I’m not really
that familiar with them.
BD: What about
versions? For instance, if someone said, “We’re going to do the original
version of Madame Butterfly, as
opposed to the standard version,” at what point are we invading on the composer’s
to think a moment]
BD: I ask all
these easy questions. [Both laugh]
RS: Yes, you really do! I don’t know about
Butterfly, but as far as versions
I was thinking of Don Giovanni
because there’s the version where the opera ends at Giovanni’s death.
As far as I know, they still perform it that way in Vienna. It became
tradition during Mozart’s time to do that, but everywhere else in the world,
it would be unthinkable to end the piece there. But I don’t think
that I would have the right to come into Vienna, for instance, and say,
“You ought to change tradition and do what the rest of the world is doing,
and finish the opera with the epilogue.” On the other hand, I think
it would be wrong for any other opera house not to do the complete work.
BD: What about
inserting arias? “Dalla sua pace”
came in later and it’s become tradition to insert it.
RS: Yes. [Vis-à-vis
the recording shown at left, see my Interviews with Felicity Lott, Gianna Rolandi, and Faith Esham.]
BD: Should we
go a little farther and maybe insert a couple of other concert arias if we
have someone who can sing them?
No more! Please! The work is four hours long now. It’s
too long. But this is a problem, too, and I think quite often producers
would like to drop “Dalla sua pace,”
but the problem is that you’re not going to get a first-rate tenor to come
and sing it if you do. I did have one other experience when I did
an Orfeo here, because there had
been a tradition of inserting an aria. I can’t remember who the composer
was, but there’s an aria in Orfeo,
and I learned it because I had heard it was tradition. When I got
here, the conductor decided it would not work in this production.
It’s a very florid piece with a lot of coloratura, and had become tradition
after a while. But I must admit after seeing how they were approaching
the piece, I agreed with him that it didn’t work, and though I’d learned
the aria to perform there, I decided it was best for the production that
I not sing it.
BD: So Don Giovanni is four hours long.
Is a composer like Pasatieri going to be conscious of writing too much music,
or too little music, or placing the intervals at the right time and
that sort of thing?
RS: I don’t
think it has anything to do, really, with the composition. It depends
on the libretto, of course. We realize that it can get tedious when
you write a piece that’s too long. As far as I know, none of his pieces
are that long. The Seagull
is a good length; it’s probably three hours total. But I don’t think
he has written anything that’s terribly long. I don’t think that’s
a criteria to think of how long it would be. If you’ve got the book,
the story, the libretto, you’ve got to go with that. Of course you’ve
got to pare it down and edit and figure out what’s going to play well and
what isn’t, but you’ve got to keep the necessary ingredients. So I
don’t know that the length is really all that important, as long as you feel
that it’s going to play and there won’t be a big letdown, or that you’ve
tried to stretch something out just to make it long. That doesn’t work.
I’ve been in the theater for a standard-length opera and felt that it was
very, very long, and then I would sit through Götterdämmerung and feel that
it’s over in a flash.
RS: Yes, that’s
the point. If you’ve got the wherewithal to make it exciting for four
or five hours, then do so, but you’ve got to be very talented to do that.
* * *
BD: Could you
give some advice to young singers embarking on a career — dos
and don’ts, perhaps, and also specific ideas about contemporary opera?
There are all kinds of ways to mount a career. Many people have gone
to Europe and spent two or three years learning repertory, and then come
back to the United States and gotten jobs in various houses and worked their
way up that way.
BD: Or come
back to the United States and languished?
RS: Yes, exactly.
This is one of the problems with learning some of the repertories.
For instance, in some of the smaller German houses, you learn everything
in German, and you come back here and you have to re-learn it in the original
language. In my career, everything I did was done in the United States
as far as preparation, and then I did some guest appearances in Europe.
They turned out to be successes and therefore I was invited back, but my
career has been totally American-based. However, I think it’s important
to have an international career.
BD: Is there
hope for the American singer in America?
RS: Yes, definitely! It’s very encouraging,
in fact, because there are so many more opera houses now than there were
ten years ago. I’ve been singing professionally going on eleven years
now, and it was much more difficult to get work when I was starting.
Wonderful things are being done now by several opera companies all over the
United States, ones that have sprung up and have proven themselves very
artistic and very worthwhile endeavors. For instance, I couldn’t believe
the number of music festivals this summer that were going on in the United
States. I picked up a copy of Opera
News and paged through all of the festivals, and that was really
heartening to see. Some of them are only a couple of weeks, but nevertheless
there is opportunity there, and there is more and more opportunity for young
singers. Of course, there are more young singers coming along, but
there’s no one way to do it. I would say that a young singer should
enter contests. It’s going to be deflating at times, and yet you’ll
grow from it. When I entered the WGN contest here in Chicago, back
when I was at Indiana University, I came up here two or three times.
It had taken quite a while and some preparation. I made the semi-finals
and then I was in the finals, but I didn’t win anything. I didn’t
win any prizes, but I was presented with a WGN keychain. [Laughs]
That was all I’d come away with for this endeavor. Nevertheless, I
grew from it, and I think it’s important. I was put off by that, but
I came back and won a prize in the Met auditions other ones. After
even the Met auditions, I entered another contest and I lost, and I didn’t
get anything from it. But these things are important, I think.
BD: I wondered
about contests because they put singers under such pressure. Is this
RS: It’s not
bad when you’re young. You can get by with it. Maybe if you’re
older it’s a little more devastating, but it’s good to get up and have to
sing under pressure, because it’s not going to get any better. If you
make it, every time you perform the bigger your name gets in the public eye,
the more is expected of you, so there’s always pressure there.
BD: Is there
more pressure second and third night of the run, or once you’ve got the production
started and reviewed, etc.?
RS: The pressure
is somewhat lightened after the opening. You want the crits to be
good, but I never consciously let down a performance, because people have
paid a lot of money to see me perform.
BD: Do you think
the ticket prices have gotten outrageous?
RS: In some
instances, but they can command the price and they can get it Opera
houses need a lot of money to survive and to run, and the ticket prices
are just a drop in the bucket to what the expense of mounting an opera is.
revealing any secrets, do you think singers’ fees have gotten too high?
I don’t think mine are too high, no! In defense of the singers’ fees,
we have incredible expenses. If somehow you think, “My God, that’s
a lot of money to sing one night!” yet when you start breaking it down, you
realize that a singer has to maintain, for all intents and purposes, two
places of residence because we’re on the road almost constantly. I’m
on the road nine to ten months a year, so it means having to put out a lot
of money. You can deduct that from your taxes to a certain degree,
but you still have to put out a lot of money. Expenses are unbelievable!
The IRS never believes you. They can’t imagine singers’ expenses,
and that’s why we’re audited a lot. But the fact is that we do have
a lot of expenses with taxis, eating out, and just maintaining apartments
and hotel expenses and this sort of thing all over the world, so singers’
fees are not as great as they sometimes appear. You’ve got the gross
amount, and by the time you pay all your percentages and expenses, the fee
is dissipated by at least a half.
BD: What about
a young singer who is offered a minor contract with a big house? Would
it be better to accept small roles in a big house, or big roles in a small
RS: It depends
on the talent. People are talented in various degrees. Some
people have a great talent for comprimario roles, but because of something
or other, could probably not carry off a leading role terribly well.
BD: No one really
starts out saying, “I’m going to be a great comprimario singer.”
RS: No, this is true. I don’t know how that
is reached. I only know that quite often it becomes frustrating, because
people want to try at least to go as far as possible. You might get
into a situation where, after several years, you become known for your comprimario
roles. Andrea Velis, for instance, has done about seventy-five different
roles at the Met and is ensconced there. That’s what he’s noted for,
but that’s pretty rare. But should they accept smaller roles?
That really is an unanswerable question. It depends totally on the
person. If they feel at the time that the experience is important and
invaluable to them, then I think they should accept it. Perhaps it
is good for a year or even two sometimes, to do this. I only know that
I’ve talked with some colleagues who had been stuck at the Met doing smaller
roles, and had felt that their artistic endeavors were getting squashed.
They were frustrated and so when their contract was up they would leave.
In some instances, after having sung and proved themselves in other places,
would come back and do major roles with the Met, but if you’re going to
wish for a major career, you can’t spend very much time doing small roles
in any house.
BD: What about
selecting teachers? How can you be very careful about that? [Vis-à-vis
the recording shown at left, see my interview with Arleen Augér.]
RS: That’s another
hard question because teachers are very important. And the longer
you sing, the more important they are, as far as I’m concerned. I
don’t think any singer should be away from a teacher, or at least somebody
who has a good ear and can advise them well.
BD: How much
can you rely just on a répétiteur
to detect these things?
RS: You can
rely to a degree, but it’s got to be somebody who’s pretty sensitive and
who really knows his business. This is close to home for me because
I’ve studied with a teacher for about ten years, and I’m having some doubts
about our working relationship now. I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t
even talk about it because it’s very personal, but all I’m saying is that
teachers are very important. Word of mouth with colleagues can help
you find out. You go up to somebody and say, “I like the way you’re
singing. Who’s your teacher?” This has happened a lot, of course.
That’s not to say that the teacher will be great for you, however.
Sometimes it’s trial and error, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
You can go to him and see how it’s working.
BD: About how
long should you wait?
RS: You’ve got
to give it reasonable time because obviously a teacher can’t work miracles
and turn you around in a matter of weeks. If after a few
months you don’t have a good rapport...
BD: But how
far should you let it go before you begin doing damage or getting misinformation?
RS: It shouldn’t
do damage. If it starts hurting, then I would say it’s not right.
It should never hurt. But you should give a teacher at least six months.
I don’t think any damage is going to be done. Sometimes from the start
there’s not a rapport there, and if there’s misunderstanding all the time,
then nothing is going to be done. Nothing fruitful is going to come
of the relationship.
BD: So there’s
as much learning of how to sing as there is how to be a singer?
Some teachers seem to teach certain voice types better than other teachers,
so one teacher may be particularly effective teaching baritones and basses
and another may be particularly effective teaching sopranos.
BD: But this
has nothing to do with whether they themselves are that particular voice type?
RS: No, not
necessarily, although it happens sometimes that a retired soprano would
certainly know the soprano voice a lot better than the bass or baritone
voice, although there are certain aspects of singing that encompass all voice
BD: What about
selecting an agent?
RS: That’s a
hard business, too. Usually because of your talent or because you’ve
accomplished something that was noteworthy somewhere, an agent will come to
you, or a manager will come to you and try to woo you into his stable.
You’ve got to be willing to accept what he’s offering, and you’ve got to reach
some compromises. My manager, Matthew Epstein, was with another agency,
Harold Shaw, when I first went to him in 1970. Then he broke away from
Shaw and I stayed with Epstein. Now he’s with Columbia. It was
word of mouth. I was doing Pelléas
with Patricia Brooks and she was a friend of Matthew’s. She told him
there was this new young baritone he had to hear, and he came to a performance.
Then we set up an interview, and I decided to go with him.
BD: This was
in New York at the City Opera?
RS: Yes, that
was my debut. I was covering the Pelléas and singing one performance.
I had just come into the company. Obviously you can contact other
agencies and audition. There are several in New York and there’s nothing
wrong with that either. If you have been in Europe, or are not accessible,
or have come from another city and have been slowly working your voice up
and feel that it is in good shape and you want to embark out on the world,
I would say come to New York and just sing for some people. Really,
that’s what it’s all about. That’s why I moved to New York in the
first place, because that’s where most of the agencies are and where most
of the intendants, the opera managers,
come at one time or another. The most important thing for a young singer
is being accessible to be heard, and to sing and to audition. I know
singers hate auditions, but they are a necessary evil if you’re going to
mount any kind of career. Being in New York, for me, was important
because once I was with management, they would say, “Such-and-such
has come in from somewhere in Europe or California. He’s only here
for one day, and he’s hearing a few people at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon,”
so I’d agree to sing for him. I was always accessible for auditions
like that, and I think that’s very important.
BD: Do you think
the fact that everything is happening in New York disenfranchises the rest
of the country?
RS: No, I don’t
think so. Sometimes singers or managers of other opera companies get
the feeling that you’ve got to have done some work in New York to be viable
somehow. Sometimes that’s the way we feel, but the reason so many
singers move to New York is that they have to be accessible to people coming
there. As far as the arts in the United States, it’s still the focal
point. It’s the most important city.
BD: As well
as being more opportunity, then there’s more competition.
obviously a lot of competition, too, but it’s very difficult when you’re
beginning. I love Chicago and I love the opera here, and if you can
get with the Lyric Opera School that’s not a bad first step either.
But still, at one point or another it’s worth it to move to New York.
I don’t live in New York now, and I don’t want to move back to New York
because I’m there enough with engagements. I live outside Washington
D.C. now. I lived in New York for six years, and it was important for
my career. A lot of young people say “I can’t stand New York!
I don’t want to live in New York.” Well, sometimes you’ve got to make
sacrifices for something you want. A lot of them will stay around the
New York area or Connecticut or New Jersey after they’ve established themselves
somewhat, but I decided to move down to McLean, Virginia. I like the
country down there, and yet it’s very accessible to New York with the shuttle.
It’s also accessible to Europe through Dulles Airport.
BD: It’s easy
to know when you’re making it in a career because things are happening and
you constantly have engagements. But for a singer who is perhaps not
doing quite as well as he had hoped, at what point should they hang it up
and start selling used cars?
RS: This is
the hardest thing for a singer to know, because it depends on how badly
you want a career. If you’re satisfied with a small amount of work
and can get by, you should continue. I can’t tell one person that
he has limited talent and he should really be doing something else.
That would be the hardest thing in the world. Sometimes teachers should
say that and are afraid to, but it’s the place of the teacher after.
If you’ve studied with a teacher for years and obviously you’re going nowhere,
it’s not very nice of the teacher. It’s misleading for him to continue
to come back for voice lessons if there’s no progress being made. That’s
his place, his responsibility, to really tell you that you should move on
to something else. But it’s very touchy thing because many people feel
that it’s just a matter of a few more years or a few more voice lessons and
they’re going to be right up there on the top.
BD: How much is it waiting for the right break?
RS: That can
be very important. You’ve got to be successful when you get the break.
In many ways I was really lucky because of the Pelléas. When I auditioned
for the New York City Opera, I didn’t even know the piece, really.
After I sang for them — I think I sang “Vision fugitive” — they came to me and
said, “Could you sing the role of Pelléas?” I said, “I don’t
know. Let me look at it.” In my naiveté and my eagerness
to get a job, I glanced through it and I said, “Well, sure. This looks
easy enough.” [Both laugh] Little did I know that it was one of
the most difficult roles in the repertory for a baritone. It turned
out that it worked very well for me, and fortunately I had a big success with
my one performance that year. [Vis-à-vis
the recording shown at right, see my Interviews with Nadine Denize, José van Dam, Ruggero Raimondi, and
the Language Coach Janine
BD: Isn’t there an
old adage in the business that if management asks, “Can you?” the answer is
always, “Yes!”? How much should you say, “I don’t know. I’ll
take a look through it.” It must have taken a lot of confidence in yourself
to be able to say, “I’ll let you know in a couple of days.”
I don’t know. I just said you’ve got to be careful, yet here I jumped
into this Pelléas.
If I really hadn’t had the wherewithal to have sung this role, it might have
been a big detriment to my career at that point.
BD: You might
be selling used cars or something.
RS: Yes, exactly.
[Laughs] But something told me I could do it, and I guess I had a
lot of confidence in myself at that point.
BD: Could a
singer go into a house knowing their fach?
That he or she can sing such-and-such roles and can’t sing so-and-so roles,
even if they don’t know the role?
RS: They should
know their own voice well enough to know what they can or can’t do.
Most houses in the United States are not going to offer you something that
is beyond you.
BD: I guess that’s just
really a European trait, then, that they’ll ask a heavy-ish tenor to start
singing Sigmund when he really should be singing Tamino.
RS: That’s always
a big problem as far as hiring singers for Wagnerian repertory.
BD: Will you
ever sing Wagner?
The only thing I might possibly do would be Wolfram. I can’t imagine
what else. I did sing Klingsor in Parsifal at Indiana University, believe
it or not, but that will never come into my repertory again, I can assure
you. I’m not really a Wagnerian voice. I’m essentially a lyric
BD: So you have
sense enough to say, “No, I will not sing it,” even if they were to offer
you a real fat fee?
I’m going into some more of the Verdi repertory. The only Verdi I’ve
sung so far has been Ford in Falstaff.
In fact, I made a film of that which should be coming out soon. But
I would like to wade into the waters of Verdi a little more with some of
the more lyric pieces, such as Rodrigo in Don Carlos, for instance. But I
don’t expect that I’m going to be singing Rigoletto or things like that because
I’m not that kind of dramatic baritone. However, my voice has gotten
a little richer and fuller with years, with natural maturing. So I
will test that out.
BD: It seems interesting, though, that you’re
coming into the standard repertoire really late, actually.
I have an interest in this kind of thing. I love the character of
Rodrigo, and he’s a young kind of swashbuckling personage which can be believable.
Again, it’s the drama I like about that, though that’s not to say I’m going
to give up the Monteverdi or the other things. It’s just testing some
BD: I hope you
RS: Thank you.
BD: Thank you
for being a singer.
Thank you for having me here.
BD: You’ve given
a lot of very good advice.
RS: It’s difficult
to give general advice, but I am encouraged by the situation today with
opera. More and more good work is being done by more and more opera
companies in the United States, and this can’t help but be encouraging.
So I’m hopeful at least that things in the future will be good for opera.
BD: The outlook
looks bright. There seems to be more happening with recordings, and
now the availability of opera on television.
has been very important in introducing a lot of people to opera.
BD: We were
talking about using or not using translations. On the TV you can have
the sound in the original and the translation can be there underneath.
RS: The subtitles,
BD: Do you think
this is the ideal compromise?
RS: It’s a little
difficult to do that on the stage, to flash the text somewhere.
BD: I was going
to say maybe they should have a ticker over the prompter’s box with a running
line there that everyone can see... or off to the side, like the cards in
the old vaudeville houses! [Remember,
this interview took place in 1980, and the first use of supertitles in the
theater was still a few years off...]
RS: Follow the
bouncing ball! [Both laugh as we said our good-byes . . . . .]
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© 1980 Bruce Duffie
This interview was recorded at WNIB in Chicago on October 10, 1980.
Portions (along with recordings) were used on WNIB in 1992 and
1997. A copy of the unedited audio was placed in the Archive of contemporary Music at Northwestern University. The transcription
was made and posted on this website in 2013.
To see a full list (with links) of interviews which have been transcribed
and posted on this website, click here.
Award - winning
broadcaster Bruce Duffie was with WNIB, Classical 97 in Chicago from
1975 until its final moment as a classical station in February of 2001.
His interviews have also appeared in various magazines and journals since
1980, and he now continues his broadcast series on WNUR-FM, as well
as on Contemporary Classical Internet Radio.
You are invited to visit his website for more information about
his work, including selected transcripts of other interviews, plus a full
list of his guests. He would also like to call your attention to
the photos and information about his grandfather,
who was a pioneer in the automotive field more than a century ago.
You may also send him E-Mail with
comments, questions and suggestions.