2005 Retrospective

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2005 Retrospective

Our January review of all the great events that happened in 2005!

"José Cura - a brilliant, very convincing Corrado.  The audience welcomed him very warmly and applauded strongly..." Yvonne

 

"We saw the last performance of Il Corsaro on 6 February and it was stunning. Just at the moment Cura stepped on stage and began to sing with overwhelming force and unspeakable beauty we were enchanted and awed by the clarity, power and resonance of his voice. On finishing the aria he received a thunderous applause and many bravos and this kind of warm acceptance on the part of the audience continued throughout the performance."  Lilian

 

 

"...the Corsaro, José Cura, showed his magnificent voice and singing and put so much vitality, a fabulous extra ingredient into his part, that this energy bomb immediately passed toward and warmed up his partners, mesmerized the audience and resulted in a full-hearted, really sparkling performance in the Grand Theatre of Liceu. Right after his first aria José was awash with a sea of bravos and applause. His celebration swelled into a life-giving, cheering bravo chorus after his touching prison scene and the very effective Gulnara duet in the last Act and culminated in a standing ovation at the curtain call." Zsuzsanna 

Fan Photos - Il corsaro

M&T: José Cura, your appearances as a conductor are becoming ever more frequent. What is it about conducting that fascinates you?

José Cura: Many people don’t know this, but my first job was that of a conductor. I have been conducting since I was 15, which means that I had already been a conductor for 15 years before I became a singer. I studied conducting, and only very late in my life did I become a tenor.

M&T: Why did you become a singer?

José Cura: That was the first course of action that made it possible for me to leave my country and study and work in Europe. I couldn’t have done it as a conductor. But conducting is my true passion and love. I like being a tenor, I want to sing, and I enjoy being a tenor specifically of the type that I am.

M&T: What makes you special?

José Cura: There are people who want to stick me into a box where they’d like tenors to be, but I don’t really behave like a tenor.

M&T: Do you mean on or off stage?

José Cura: On stage I surely don’t behave like your typical, conventional tenor, and when I put on a concert, I am not a showman or someone who is laughably dressed like a penguin. People are sometimes confused by that, and they don’t have a clue as to which compartment they ought to put me in.

M&T: That doesn’t exactly sound like something to flatter your colleagues.

José Cura: I don’t mean to ridicule my colleagues; rather, I simply do not consider myself to be an average tenor. I am a musician who is able to sing in the range of a tenor. Conducting is my life, my true calling, and that’s why I do it as often as I can.

M&T: Well, there aren’t very many tenors in the world of opera, especially not of the type that you are, with a talent for the dramatic repertoire. On the other hand, there are lots of conductors.

José Cura: But not many good ones!

M&T: Might one conclude that you consider yourself to be one of the few that are good?

José Cura: Sorry to say it: yes. I am much better as a conductor that as a tenor. That’s   really the case, also when viewed from a distance. The thing is: The way I sing, the way I move and the way I look, I can impress people much more easily as a tenor. To make an impression as a conductor is much more difficult. Naturally, you can wave your arms around wildly and make faces, but that doesn’t sustain you for long. On the other hand, the vast majority in an audience is unable to truly assess (the performance of) a conductor and the role he plays in the success of a performance. But when a guy sings, they’re lying in their chairs, knocked flat.

M&T: And that you want to deprive your fans of in the future?

José Cura: I indeed will keep on singing opera; I do sing frequently, work up and rehearse new roles, develop new productions, take on new challenges. And I do like all of that--I’m not an unhappy tenor. But on the other hand, I really want to conduct as often as possible. I have just recorded Dvorak’s symphony From the New World, and my Rachmaninov CD has gotten very good reviews. It is said to be one of the best recordings of this symphony. Therefore, I surely cannot be such a poor conductor.

M&T: Will you record other symphonies?

José Cura: Yes, Tchaikovsky’s 5^th, the ‘Misa Criolla” by Ramirez and probably also works by Janacek.

M&T: On your homepage, you indicate plans for your Centenary Tribute Collection, which celebrates composers’ 100^th anniversaries, all the way to Mahler in 2011. To you also a high point for a conductor?

José Cura: By all means. That’s why I’m glad that it’s still six years away. So I still have a little time.

M&T: What is it about conducting that fascinates you? Is it a question of power and control?

José Cura: No, that’s not it at all. I can exercise much more power as the First Tenor at an Opera House than as the conductor—in the negative sense of the word (power), mind you. No, I truly consider myself to be a conductor, a musician who conducts. I became a singer for economic reasons only. And after so many years of singing, I feel called to put the same strength and energy that I used to put into working out and polishing my opera roles, into symphonic music.

M&T: Are you tired of the opera repertoire?

José Cura: The symphonies of Rachmaninov or Dvorak are indeed works that are central, and the attraction, the allure is not in the dramatic impetus, but rather in the subtext, in the extraction and chiseling out of the subtleties and nuances in cooperation with the orchestra’s musicians. The fascination lies in passing these messages on to the listener.

M&T: How do you approach a symphonic work?

José Cura: Just like every other conductor does. First you analyze it: form, harmonies, instrumentation, also the technical side, you might say, the ‘cold’ side. You’ve got to learn what’s going on to start with. And then there is the far more important aspect: you have to find the subtext. Every work of art has a subtext; it doesn’t matter whether it is a picture, a play or, well, music. One finds allusions to the subtexts in the testimony of the composers, in their letters, in their rough drafts and outlines, but also in the tensions and musical references in the score. The message is hidden underneath the form. It isn’t always the same message for every person. Sometimes there are even several different ones. It is possible that what I find differs from what you might find; that’s why one interpretation might be more to the liking of some listener and less to the liking of others.

M&T: That’s what makes the whole thing interesting.

José Cura: Exactly. You surely don’t want to hear the same thing over and over, every time you attend a concert or an opera. You go to hear and experience the uniquely personal sides of an interpretation. You don’t go to listen to a string of beautiful notes played in perfect succession, something that can be pulled off easily with a little bit of preparation. Rather, you want to be brought face to face with what’s behind it all; really become engaged.

M&T: What is the absolutely requisite key to communicating these insights, which you have worked out for yourself on an intellectual and emotional level, to an orchestra of 100 musicians?

José Cura: That is probably the most difficult aspect of the job of a conductor, as I see it. It’s also what makes it so delicate and difficult to work together with an orchestra for only a short period of time. The technical questions are taken care of in one rehearsal, but if you do not yet know each other, then it’s almost always difficult at the outset to find common ground. You often have to stand there almost like a policeman and demand to get exactly what you’ve been asking for, so there is no chance for misunderstandings to crop up. And it’s only in time that the musicians are able to sense things, even before I spell them out. And conversely, I can then depend on things coming out the way I want them to, without having to repeat myself constantly.

M&T: What above all else does it take for that? Competence? Authority? Charisma?

José Cura: It takes time. That’s why the most difficult, problematic conducting work is that of the guest conductor. But on the other hand, it is sometimes also really nice for both sides: Sort of like a breeze of fresh air for a few days; like vacation time with new impressions. And just as you look forward to your own home after a holiday, so it is here, too. But you have had experiences in the meantime, perhaps even learned something. That’s why there is always a degree of curiosity involved in doing a stint as a guest conductor.

M&T: Curiosity on your part, minimalism on the part of the orchestra’s musicians?

José Cura: No, no. With a good conductor, minimalism will last exactly two minutes. Naturally, the first time I come to work with an orchestra, the musicians perceive me to be a tenor with a baton and not a conductor. And they’ll play accordingly--like they would for a tenor with a baton. But only for two minutes.

M&T: And what do you do to change that at once, to nip it in the bud?

José Cura: That’s quite easy: All those people that sit in front of me are after all musicians and they naturally notice that I am someone who has been conducting for many years, that I come thoroughly equipped with the skills and the know how of a conductor. A professional musician is able to discern that within a few minutes. If a conductor doesn’t manage to establish authority at the first rehearsal, he’ll never do it.

M&T: What about this situation in reverse, at the opera, when you sing and a new maestro is introduced?

 

José Cura: (It’s) exactly the same: After two minutes I know whether I can depend on him; whether he understands his job. If he doesn’t, then you begin to take matters into your own hands; if he does, then you put yourself into his hands willingly. It is sometimes really funny to sense that, to track that like a scanner. It’s naturally something that’s reciprocal; each feels out the other, and as I said, after a few minutes, the result is clear. You know how far you can go, what you are able to demand, what you can expect.

M&T: Are you more critical as far as conductors are concerned because you have a better understanding of conducting than your fellow singers?

José Cura: Critical isn’t the right word. On principle, I am very open, also to other opinions. There is an advantage to this in that I sometimes see developing problems faster; that I can detect and see through situations better because I know what I am able to take into account.

 

M&T: On your tour through Switzerland, you will conduct Dvorak’s 9^thSymphony.  Do you think the Swiss will like your (reading of) Dvorak?

José Cura: We’ll see. This is naturally not my own orchestra; I have not had a chance to get to know it. But they are, from what I have heard and read, very good, very dedicated young musicians, and I think we’ll be able to work well together. I suppose that the last concerts are going to fulfill our expectations more than the first ones because by then we will have been together for 15 days and will have surely reached a high level of mutual understanding and insight. And the Dvorak symphony is so magnificent that I am not worried. We didn’t want to play a symphony that was too solemn and dramatic, because it is Christmas time and people don’t want to hear anything that’s too heavy. No one wants to be sad at that time of the year.

 

M&T: And in the first part, talking about the arias by Verdi, Puccini and Meyerbeer, are you going to do both, sing and conduct?

 

José Cura: No. There is another conductor for that. In a concert setting, that kind of thing doesn’t work. When I record, I am able to sing into the microphones and conduct simultaneously because I have the orchestra in front of me; I’m facing the musicians. With a good orchestra, you don’t have to mark too much as a rule. But it’s not a workable (situation) in a concert where I must naturally sing toward the audience. I have indeed done it before, as an encore for example, but it is an awkward and delicate matter that needs several rehearsals for everyone to be in complete accord, almost blindly so. And in one critical review they wrote that I looked like a huge, clumsy bird. Facing the audience with arms flapping is indeed a rather silly sight.

  

M&T: What were your considerations in putting the aria part of your program together?

 

José Cura: I left that up to the organizers. I made about twelve suggestions, and they selected from among those. This is my first tour in Switzerland. Apart from my appearances at the Zurich Opera House, one does not know me. But I believe the audience is going to be nice, amiable, and warm-hearted and is coming to the concert for pleasure and enjoyment. Naturally, there is this aspect of giving commentaries and criticisms as always, but I should think that in the German speaking countries, this is not the primary reason for coming-quite in contrast to England and especially Italy.

 

M&T: And in Italy, how do you handle it there?

 

José Cura: No one is absolute, perfect; in this line of work, one has to live with a great variety of opinions. And no matter where it is: after the first aria, I know how the entire evening will go.

 

M&T: And a successful appearance in the second part cannot change this first impression?

 

José Cura: Perhaps little by little. But the first impression is dreadfully strong. When the members of the audience take me into their hearts, embrace me right away, it becomes quite easy for me to animate them, thrill them and transmit my feelings. If not, it becomes very difficult. But I have rarely had that experience. This can happen primarily when you sing unknown selections to which people cannot relate so readily.

 

M&T: Here in Zurich you have just sung (the part of) an unknown but fascinating Verdi character, Stiffelio.

 

José Cura: He is indeed a very different, unconventional figure not only in Verdi but the entire repertoire. The other characters fit within the norms of Verdi baritones or sopranos. Stiffelio by comparison is-as seen from my vantage point- a very dubious, shady character, sort of a combination of Calvin and Rasputin. (He’s) hostile to pleasure and very fanatical like Calvin but on the other hand sexually driven like Rasputin. Gloomy and unbending, but underneath the surface, passion is ablaze. He looks good, and he doesn’t have his hormones under control. And the mixture makes this human being a walking bomb. This is not about religion; his fanaticism provides him a means to block his sensuality. In the end, he explodes. A grim, black and gloomy figure of which there are only a few in (all of) opera. Because most find salvation or forgiveness in the end. Stiffelio does not: He pretends to forgive, but he doesn’t really. I love this figure.

 

M&T: Even though Verdi has given him no aria (to sing)?

 

José Cura: Precisely for that reason: Stiffelio has no music just for music’s sake. With the soprano and the baritone, we have moments where the action stops and the music stands alone-but not so with the tenor. Everything he sings has a dramatic reason. For me that’s naturally wonderful because every time I take the stage, I fight the cliché of the tenor who just stands there and shouts at the top of his lungs. I hate that.

 

M&T: So do we.

 

José Cura: But not everyone else by a long shot. Believe you me, there are many, many people who do not want to see or hear anything else.

 

M&T: If you have such strongly held ideas, such intense notions about a character, what does the cooperation with a director look like? How is it affected?

 

José Cura: Cesare Lievi came (to this) without preconceived notions; nothing was etched in stone. Many details seen on stage were ideas of mine that took shape in the course of rehearsals. And I’m really proud of that. I make suggestions during rehearsals on how something might be depicted and performed. And Lievi took those and developed them and brought them into accord with the other figures. That’s the way all good directors work, including those that have very definite ideas or want to provoke, something that I find totally ok: they set the general direction, provide the big picture. But how the characters act in detail, those finer points are worked out together with the singers, and it is the task of the actor to develop that. Just like in movies: The director says, this and this happened; now show me how your character feels in this situation and how he reacts. In opera, there are directors as it is who leave this task entirely in the hands of the singers and work almost exclusively toward the big picture.

 

M&T: The staging of ‘Otello’ by Sven-Eric Bechtolf was quite controversial. How did you experience it?

 

José Cura: I must say that we discussed (things) a lot. With the result that I was pretty satisfied-as far as the figures and their play/interaction is concerned- but generally, I did not like the production. I found it contrived and sometimes a bit ridiculous. In spite of that, I realized that this staging helped the audience to focus above all on the singers, and that gave us considerable possibilities. When you have this kind of a production and bad actors on top of that, then things go awry. But I think Bechtolf was able to take liberties with this venture because he had singers in Raimondi, Dessí and me, in whom he sensed the charisma of stage personalities.

 

Reinmar Wagner/ translation by Monica B.

 

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Tenor José Cura's Heart Remains in Argentina

 

La Nueva Provincia Interview

May 12, 2005

 

Translated by Monica B

 

Berlin (EFE)-Tenor and conductor José Cura assured EFE in an interview today that even though he resides in Spain, and has not stepped on home soil since “Otello” at the Teatro Colón in 1999, his heart is in Argentina, and with the Argentinean people.

 

“Aurora, my latest CD of arias, was dedicated to all Argentineans, and I even put the blue and white flag on the inside. But the people there don’t know that, because it never made it to the domestic market for lack of a distributor,” the tenor, who is performing at the Deutsche Oper in Berlin these days, stated.

 

Cura gave his debut in the German capital on April 27 as Canio in the premiere of a “Pagliacci” production directed by David Pountney (Great Britain), who was ostensibly booed by the audience.

 

“My expression at the curtain call after the performance was perhaps serious, but that was nothing personal, for my performance was applauded. It’s that I can’t bear soccer field reactions in a theater,” explained the tenor, who avoided drawing parallels to the trouble he was involved in five years ago at the Teatro Real in Madrid.

 

“If the members of the audience want to show their displeasure, the most polite and also perhaps the most effective way would be absolute silence. No one can imagine how painfully distressing coming out to take one’s bows after a performance and not getting any reaction from the audience would be—and how effective,” he pointed out.

 

Pountney endured the barrage stoically, “possibly because he is British, and digested it later at home. I am Latin (in temperament) and it’s already known…” Cura added, in reference-the last of the entire interview-to his confrontation with a segment of the audience at the Teatro Real.

 

At last, Berlin

 

Cura, who will return to the Deutsche Oper next year as Dick Johnson—the thief who is redeemed by the love of Minnie, the main character of Giacomo Puccini’s ‘Fanciulla del West’—was the only one of the great Latin-American tenors who had not yet made his debut in Berlin.

 

During the last year, the Mexicans Ramón Vargas and Rolando Villazón, the Peruvian Juan Diego Flórez and the Argentine Dario Volonté, whose names make you think of Latin America as a ‘quarry’, came this way.

 

“There are great voices in Latin America, and Argentina, for example, is in the count with excellent contraltos. But I find it strange that in Europe they are surprised to learn about this so-called ‘boom’,” Cura confessed. For him the explanation is much simpler: “It’s socio-economic”.

 

“The same phenomenon that can be seen in Russia is occurring in Latin America. It’s that young people with a natural inclination (toward the arts) are willing to invest ten years of their lives in a project which, just maybe, will turn out well for them. In the rich countries, they have everything; there is less of a willingness to make this investment in terms of one’s life. Four years in front of a computer and you are an engineer,” he opines.

 

Motivated by necessity

 

For Cura, the secret is: “the driving force that dire need—having sung ‘for four rubles’ in theaters or in the street, something that I have done myself—turns into. There has to be this feeling, a rage of despair, that’s eating at your insides; it pushes you to cross the Atlantic.” Cura still has that, although in a way that’s calmed down a lot.

 

“Until I created my own company in 2000, I had a lot of people feeding off of me. Today, I am in charge of my own calendar, I am my own boss. Before, I had 100 performances per year; now, I sing 50.”

 

“In the time that remains, I compose, conduct, attend to company business and spend time with my family,” added the tenor, who has a “closed” calendar that has him booked out until 2009, although with some blank spaces for events of relevance like, for example, the Festival in Verona. 

 

“That explains why I have still not returned to the Teatro Colón; because I am closing the calendar with a number of way-in-advance bookings, and for financial reasons, the Colón only draws up plans for the short or medium term,” he pointed out.

 

In Berlin, Cura has not met up with Maestro Daniel Barenboim, another Argentine who is especially close to the Colón. He is the General Music Director of the Staatsoper Unter den Linden, “a man of supernatural genius,” said the tenor.

 

“Barenboim is unique,” the singer, who has not yet worked with the Maestro even though they do see each other occasionally, emphasized.

 

“Once, I mentioned to him that I wasn’t managing to get my CD sold in Argentina. And he replied: ‘Don’t worry; my CD of tangos doesn’t sell either,’” the tenor, who is preparing ‘a surprise’ for his public, related by way of anecdote. He gave as clues: expanding his repertoire to characters without ‘pesto and mozzarella’ and works that would be more nourishing to the intellect, although under no circumstances Wagner.

 

“I would not sing Wagner in a language that I do not have a good command of. Besides, it’s schmaltzy; the preludio of ‘Tristan and Isolde’ has possibilities for a Latin American soap opera,” he pointed out.

 

The surprise could also be an experience as a ‘theater performer’. “They’ve been tempting me for several years, and I’m taking on one of these,” he forewarned.

Samson Production Photos

Thanks for the Memories, José Cura

For the first time in several years, North America was able to enjoy the magic of José Cura. 

He brought with him unparallel charisma, conviction, and commitment.

He set new standards of excellence and excitement.

He coupled uncommon physical courage on stage with an unconventional but mesmerizing portrayal.

He enticed audiences to the theater, moved them first to tears and then to cheers.

And off-stage, he demonstrated the kindness, generosity, and genuine courtesy that marks a good and gentle man.

Samson Fan Photos

The Argentinian José Cura opens Il corsaro by Verdi in Liceu

El Periódico

31 January 2005

ROGER PASCUAL

José Cura

 “The routine in the life of a singer turns out to be traumatic.”

El Cultural 

Carlos Fortezza

(translated by Dana)

The Argentinian tenor José Cura (Rosario 1962) will play the leading role in Il Corsaro by Verdi in Liceu on Monday, 31 January. He will return here next year with Otello. The singer talks with El Cultural about his relationship with el Real, the project of Teatro de las Tres Culturas and his career as a conductor.

After winning Operalia in 1994, his arrival in the world of singing was something of an event,   “Something that was formed as part of the marketing machinery of the market and something you cannot control. Someone is in fashion, then time passes and one gets to the same level or even better. Then came Alagna, they got tired of him and moved to another. Now it is Floréz’ turn, but he will pass as well and then it will be the turn of somebody new.” Since then he has been concentrating on being “a good singer” because “once all the artificial fireworks pass away, they will see you as 'a serious and respected artist.'” He has become one of the most famous dramatic tenors of his generation. He is able to absorb all his talents and combine his singing career with conducting, “a time when my voice rests and vice versa, which is very important. These are vocations that can be done in parallel.”

EL:  It is hard to be taken seriously as a conductor being a singer, yet the same doesn’t apply to a pianist or violinist.

JC:  These are the prejudices of the past. Throughout history, with rare exceptions, the singer was the person who was known for his voice and that was that.  If by any chance he understood what was going on in the pit, it was better. If he didn’t, nothing happened. This is less common now, as the singers are more prepared.

EL:  Does conducting help you to escape from sometimes-terrible routine of a singer?

JC:  Without doubt. I try not to sing as many performances as I used to do. With nearly one hundred singing dates a year, it ended up being traumatic. And not just from the physical point of view—as an artist you end up entering the stage saying, “Uf, not again!”  Now I do about 50 dates. The voice is infinitely grateful. Also, conducting is the way to plan for the day when I decide to retire from singing.”

EL:  The boom of the voices from Latin America, is it a pure coincidence or are you a special race?

JC:  The condition of life in America is very different from those in Europe. To become a serious musician (in America), you must invest at least ten or fifteen years of your life before you are able to say now I reached maturity, now I have the authority to be well regarded. How many young people in Europe are willing to invest so much time? There are times in life that you need the strength, the healthy rage that comes from despair. That is why so many singers come from there or from the former Soviet Union. They know they have to fight--if they don’t, they won’t eat.

EL:  You bring spectacle to the opera, is it what the theatre lovers want?

If I look at the success that I have had, I have to say, yes, but I know there are people who don’t like the way in which I approach my characters. Just like many of the public, I like to see a passionate and devoted artist.  If I have to listen to an excellent interpretation sung without heart I prefer to stay at home and listen to a CD.

EL:   Is that the reason why you prefer live recordings?

JC:  Live recordings are necessary for economical reasons, because they are so much cheaper. On the other hand, to be an “animal” on stage I prefer the risks a live performance brings.  Live, I can display all my potential for strength and charisma. If one is not the type of the artist who equates perfectionism with quality but with charisma, meaning and emotions, then in that case live recording is better for him.

EL:  You will return to Liceu with Otello, the warhorse of your repertoire.

JC:  Those who have seen my Otello understand what I want to transmit, with an original way of treating the voice and moving the body. My interpretation is based more on the theatrical message, more on Shakespeare not just on Verdi. In this sense I identify a lot with the Otello of Ramon Vinay, one that was not based on the beauty and infallibility of the voice but more on the message which gets through to us not only with a beautiful timbre but through the creation of a distressed and terrible Otello.

Cologne

	Captivating the Germans   Wolfgang Hübner   Netrebko and Cura were able to captivate and win over the audience and reap standing ovations.   On one occasion after the intermission, the charismatic Argentine even stole the show from the almost too unassuming Russian with his tenoral vocal explosiveness, but in return, he received an especially cordial embrace from the beautiful Anna—an embrace that caused all the men throughout the arena to become envious.
	Stars Kölnische Rundschau Anna Netrebko's  rise to the top has progressed like a fairy tale and she didn't have to seduce a prince --she simply called him up. José Cura, the good-looking and vocally powerful tenor from Argentina was pleased to follow the invitation.   Cura threw himself into his roles; he hurled himself at the hearts of his audience. He might just have been the inventor of the large screen so that not a single glance gets sent out in vain. He has preserved for himself the heart of a child, he told an interviewer, and because of that, he slips into his characters totally and completely. Cura's voice explodes like a volcano. If this, his indisputably God-given gift, which he uses lavishly, were ever to give out, Cura has the ability to conduct, compose, or become an opera house director. The man possesses many talents.
	SENSUAL POUT WITH IRRESISTIBLE PULL Aachener-Zeitung     In other places, Rolando Villazón and Ramón Vargas; in Cologne, the Argentinean José Cura, a tenor whose voice oozes sensuality. With glowing baritonal colouring, fantastically secure height, and personal nonchalance, he indeed follows as Otello in the footsteps of Domingo. And with 'fire-crackers' like the Pagliacci aria or Puccini's Nessun dorma, he threatened to upstage the Russian.
	The Pop Star of Classical Music in Cologne    Kolner Stadt Anzeiger   At her Cologne concert too, some entertainment had to be included in the show, which was modest in its staging. In one scene, for example, her equally convincing partner in song, the Argentinean star tenor José Cura, who was hiding in the audience, proceeded to approach the stage slowly, drawn by Anna Netrebko’s searching glances.   An atmosphere of wild exuberance prevailed also through the four encores. In the repeat rendition of “O soave fanciulla” from Puccini’s “La Bohème”, Netrebko and Cura showed a very human side: a kissing scene triggered a fit of laughter in both singers. The 8,000 listeners thanked them with applause that lasted for minutes as well as with vociferous shouts of ‘bravo’.

José had a strong intention to keep his figure in the background and emphasise Anna’s acting here, helping and pushing her forward in the duets as well. He could not help on that his spirit broke out from the bottle and unquestionable conquered the whole arena, Anna’s admirers as well. Beside of his beautiful acting voice, he radiated unbelievable good spirits from the stage, it was his cloudless enjoyment of music and acting. He was also a gentleman and a showman to guide his partner and the concert unnoticed from the background. José sang with smiling voice and love folding the audience in his arms. In the most dramatic arias of Cavaradossi, Pagliaccio and Otello he transformed this mood into horrible intense, heartrendingly bitter, passionate confessions. I agree that the very painful and radiant Pagliaccio solo (“Vesti la giubba”) represented the total break through of the evening, as his direct, very honest interpretation earned the greatest celebration. This time his Pagliaccio’s sobbing can be heard only from inside through his act. Stepping into Otello’s soul his “Dio mi potevi scagliar” was the most glorious rendition of the aria I’ve ever heard from him. You wondered how he could set up this touching tone with his acting voice alone creating such immerse, intimate moments in that huge arena that chained everybody to the stage for long minutes, then welcome the revenge with dreadfully frightening words and crown it with that enormous, brightly ringing high notes.

Finally they repeated again the La Boheme duet, turning it into a lovable comedy. I must say their voice blended the most delightfully here again and it was further emphasised as José just played with the phrases and words while using his uniquely dark, burnish timbre. Anna could not bear José’s unexpectedly intense actions while approaching his Mimi and severely refused him with a spontaneous reflex. Seeing Rodolfo’s quite injured, proud and disarmingly childish surprise and indignation, she and the audience burst out laughing that was hard to hold back during the aria. Of course, José reversed the roles then, now he was the reluctant one to receive Anna’s courting. But after giving up his unbreakable, sad reserve, he surrendered himself with an almost invisible smile and the couple united in a long embrace.  After receiving the most prolonged ovation of the night, the protagonists nicely took leave of us.

PAG!

One Way Street in Sicily     Berliner Morgenpost The second chapter opens at last: truly impossible to ignore, José Cura with his voice of the century, a voice that comes along only once in a hundred years. It reminds of fanfares, the trumpet flourishes of Judgment Day.....   * José Cura shines as Pagliaccio F.A.Z José Cura, who in addition to possessing an exquisitely controlled and big voice also has a breathtaking stage presence, shaped his "Vesti la giubba" with an intensity that went far beyond the usual macho-kitsch-sobbing caused by betrayal and jealousy, and lent to the character of Pagliaccio unexpected depth, significance, almost something "Faust-like". * Cura Shines in Opera Double Bill Bloomberg As the jealous clown Canio, Cura delivers his top notes with lingering relish, moves suavely and glosses over details in the score. He is scorchingly intense in the dressing-room aria, and a smoldering presence the rest of the time. His Nedda, Nuccia Focile, is the consummate diva, immaculately tailored and grandly melodious.
* Inseparable Pair   Deutschlandfunk   Above all, there is José Cura as Canio, also known as Pagliaccio (the clown), a tenor who isn’t just a shining presence vocally but also has excellent stage presence as an actor. One can argue about his characterization of Canio, who turns from the initially brutal macho who steps out of an old Citroën into a sobbing weakling on account of the unfaithfulness of his wife Nedda.      * Return to the Fountainhead: To the Sources of Passion   Berlin Zeitung     José Cura sings the part of Canio. Just like Alfio, Canio finds himself cuckolded. His wife, too, loves another man. Cura breaks the rule whereby all those deceived, cheated, victimized must love Pasta Alla Norma. But he too roars all over the place. The evening belongs to those neurotic couples. There is something about his vocal organ that surpasses, transcends the average, run-of-the-mill power voice. The way he takes the passaggio from middle to upper register in his desperation aria is as hard and fast as Schumacher stepping on the gas pedal of his red Ferrari in a curve. Cura would be the singer for a really big role. His portrayal of the jealous Canio is intimation of that. We witness this world-class tenor disdainfully making short shrift of the text of his role. Passion has many chairs fly across the stage. Ion Marin, hair flying, puts fire under the orchestra. The sound comes from the pit energetically, high pressure style--a broad stream whose flow the conductor knows how to regulate with sensitivity. In the grip of passion, the instruments melt into one like the smelt in a red-hot furnace. At the end, the script has Canio stab his wife Nedda (soprano Nuccia Focile) together with her lover. We will see: in that respect the evening has a surprise in store for us.   *   Deutsche Oper Registers a Hit with Cura   Die Welt   Only two tenors. But boy, some more tenors they are! One looks like he moves furniture for a living and sings accordingly: Peter Seiffert, Turiddu in “Cavalleria Rusticana”, is direct, straight forward, penetratingly powerful, loud and passionate. The other, José Cura, has his Canio be a feisty Mafioso behind sunglasses—a macho always on the jump, neurotic and plagued by self-doubts; his top notes piercing the lush orchestral sound now and then like a laser knife. At the conclusion of this sumptuously rich evening of joyful sound and strong singing, Seiffert and Cura take their bows at Berlin’s Deutsche Oper, embracing and laughing: Look here, it’s me!
*   Whose Sobs Are the Most Beautiful?   Der Tagespiegel   For the final curtain call, they came out onto the stage arm in arm: Peter Seiffert took his hand and ran it across the white make-up on José Cura’s cheek, then proceeded to paint the markings of a clown on his own face. Two of the world’s best tenors together on the same stage—that’s just like a final match between Germany and Argentina for the world championship. Different from soccer, however, is that in the opera, a duel of the giants is only possible in two successive finals. That’s the case here, for example, with the verismo double header “Cavalleria Rusticana” and “I Pagliacci” on the program. Both one act operas sport signature roles for tenors; in both, the topic is love, honor and jealousy in Southern Italy: under those circumstances, men turn into animals. In the new staging at the Deutsche Oper, Peter Seiffert’s Turiddu falls victim to the knife of the cuckolded Alfio, while José Cura’s Pagliaccio stabs not only his wife but also her lover to death. Parallel to the action on stage, the two male divas play out a duel--in successive time frames. The matter in dispute is quite bloodless: who sobs most beautifully, laments most loudly, and can sustain his top note the longest.   Halftime. Then it is José Cura’s turn--and he scores before he even opens his mouth. While the designer, Robert Innes Hopkins, forces the German into a gaudy showman’s Elvis costume, the Argentine-a cool, cigarillo smoking macho-is allowed to taxi onto the stage in a shiny black old-timer. Just like his South American soccer buddies, he starts to work magic immediately and moves around (hops, skips and jumps) that it's a joy to watch. From shrill laughter, he plunges into tears and lamentation, pulls himself up to soar with a tearjerker of a melody, and then tops that with-how could you miss it?-a brilliant, daringly sustained ‘firecracker’ of a high note. Bravo, Don José.    *   Miracle Voice - Powerful Presence    Leipziger Volkszeltung   Musically, the evening was not defined by (Ion) Marin but a divine team of singers: José Cura as Canio, a marvel of a voice with tremendous stage presence, who even in his aria did not go for a narcissistic vocal portrayal but integrated it –fast paced-completely into the action on stage. [….]     *    Der Bajazzo Dazzles in Berlin     The “Pagliaccio” was Caruso’s signature role; but once you hear Cura, you don’t need Caruso. If you’re still not moved to tears during his famous aria ‘Vesti la giubba…’, which describes the artist’s lot of having to hide his heartache behind a mask, you’re given opportunity to cry along by the director, who reinforces the musical opening of the floodgates for tears visually. The fab, movable set is by Robert Innes Hopkins. *

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Miskolci Opera Fesztival

Hungary, June 2005

'I have just come back from Miskolc after an unforgettable weekend and a wonderful concert.  Rossini's Stabat Mater was beautifully sung and masterfully conducted and touched the heart of the whole audience; but the height of the evening was undoubtedly the performance of Kodaly's Te Deum which Jose Cura conducted in a passionate, dashing and powerful manner that took our breath away. It was a superb and impressive performance that was crowned with great success and was loved both by the audience and Mrs. Kodaly, the composer's widow, who was present at the concert and congratulated Jose Cura at the end.'   Lilian
 

	Miskolci Opera Fesztival Hungary 12 June 2005
	'I was at Miskolc Operafesztivál this night.... UNFORGETTABLE!!!  Mr. Cura is GREAT!!!!'   Vicki
'I have the feeling that Kodály wrote: “Te Deum! Where are you God? Where are you? We are suffering, where the hell are you? Come here and help!”'  -  José Cura

'It is undeniable, that José Cura’s appearance was the sensation of the Opera Fesztivál. He gave a fabulous concert here and harvested stormy ovation together with the Hungarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and Choir and the guest singers in Miskolc in the second day of the Festival inaugurating one of the new locations of the events, the Great Hall of the Miskolc University. The program of the concert – Rossini’s Stabat Mater, Kodály’s Budavári (Buda Castle) Te Deum - was a jackpot, a great enjoyment to notice José Cura’s conducting work of sacred pieces in which great orchestration, arias and choral pieces were beautifully integrated together.'   - Zsuzsanna

 

 

'Kodály’s music, especially in José’s interpretation was so deep and breathtaking that it took a couple of seconds for the audience ’to wake up’ from the glamour at the end.  He literally put a spell on us. That was the reason why the applause has strengthened only gradually but more thunderously.  I have the feeling that his APPROACH to the music makes him UNIQUE among the conductors. He definitely has sense of getting to the pieces with unbelievable intelligence and sensitivity, masterfully mixing it with subtle emotions.  This is what does make him outstanding! It’s a gift of birth.'  - Melinda

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José Cura:  Let's Get Physical

 

The Independent

20 September 2005

José Cura breezes in from his rehearsal at the Royal Opera House looking rather like an off-duty nightclub bouncer. The dark-eyed Argentinian superstar, a former rugby player and body-builder, could have been tailor-made for the tenor lead in La Fanciulla del West, Puccini's take on the gold rush, for which he received rave reviews last week. His character, Johnson, aka Ramerrez, is an escaped Latin bandit, by turns a "goody" and a "baddy" in the best tradition of spaghetti westerns, but - in the best tradition of romantic opera - ultimately redeemed by love. Cura has run the gamut of "goody" and "baddy" in terms of critical opinion over the years, but it's his passion that carries him beyond that. His treacly, seductive, dangerous voice can knock you into submission in seconds.

Fanciulla gives him plenty of opportunity to let that voice shine. It's rarely performed, yet filled with vintage Puccini melody. "I first sang the role in a concert performance in 1992," Cura recounts, "so it's been growing inside for 13 years." He's particularly glad to be singing it at Covent Garden: "This production is a real classic," he says. "I remember watching it on video years ago and thinking, 'Hey, look at that, if only one day...' And suddenly you find you're in the middle of the set."

Cura's path to stardom took even him by surprise. His musical life had a difficult beginning; his native Argentina - where he was born with roots a quarter Spanish, a quarter Italian and half Lebanese - is a loaded subject. He hasn't been back for seven years. He adores Argentinian music, and dedicated the second CD he made for his own label, Cuibar Phono Video, to his country: "The Argentinian flag even appeared in the booklet," he says. "But the only country I couldn't sell the CD was Argentina. As the Bible says, no man is a prophet in his own land." His label, though, is doing fine: Cura is "in conversation" with a major label interested in taking Cuibar Phono Video under its wing.

If Cura had grown up somewhere else, he might never have found his voice. He began to sing through luck and necessity. "When I was about 12, I decided I wanted to be a musician," he says. "Argentina at that time was leaving military oppression and becoming a democratic country, but in the middle it wasn't so easy; you had to decide to do something reasonably useful. It was a big fight to make my parents understand I wanted to be a musician in a country where that was a hopeless decision. The purpose was to become a conductor and a composer. I had vocal coaching to complement the conducting, and one of the coaches said to me, 'Hey, you have to use this voice'. Later, a teacher told me, 'You don't have to be a singer, but you must learn how to sing, because that will make you a better conductor'. That was the best advice I received.

"It is always difficult to find opportunities to conduct or to get a premiere for your compositions - but in Argentina at that time, it was hopeless. Singing is a discipline where you can find some way to survive: in a choir, an opera chorus, or a musical comedy. I started to sing as a way of surviving. And, well, here I am. I survived pretty well." Once he had won Placido Domingo's Operalia competition in 1994, there was no turning back.

Is that rarest musical instrument - a glorious tenor voice - down to nature, or nurture, with hours of hard slog every day? Forget "hours", says Cura - even "years" would understate what it takes. "You cannot hurry up the processes of developing your voice," he says. "If you want to become a lawyer in two years, you can do it if you study hard, but singing is both intellectual and physical: the body has to have time to get used to what your brain understands first. And you can't stay home and work alone until you're 'mature'; you become mature by being out on stage, exchanging experiences with other singers and working with good conductors and directors.

"You can't expect wine to be more mature if you leave it longer inside the grape. You have to take it out and work on it. There are no miracles. I'm 42; I've been singing for 20 years and now - finally - I'm starting to feel that I'm kind of in charge. There's no way to do that only in the shower."

Italian and French opera has long been home to Cura, but will he ever sing Wagner? "I've been wondering too," he laughs. "The problem is the language. I can read and understand German, but I have not mastered it. To produce a believable character, one desperately needs the undertext, and there's no way to have that if you're reading phonetics. After so many years, people are used to a certain standard whenever I go on stage, so I feel uncomfortable with the idea that I would be performing knowing that I'm not giving what I'm supposed to give. When I go on stage, I feel secure in what I'm doing - you can agree with it or not, but you cannot say I'm not convinced or secure. If I give up on that security, I'd be giving up on the major secret that has made my career not only a success but a healthy success: I've never lost my nerve on stage. And I'm not intending to do so."

Cura, meanwhile, has found his way back to conducting; another happy accident, he says, that came about a few years ago when he conducted the Sinfonia Varsovia "as a joke", but found himself invited to become the orchestra's principal guest conductor - "much to the delight of my vocal detractors, who'd found the perfect excuse to say I'm a better conductor than a singer". Next season includes a stint at the Vienna State Opera, conducting Puccini's Madama Butterfly. He divides his time between singing and conducting "about 75 per cent to 25 - the perfect balance to prevent the singing from becoming a routine".

But thanks to his roots in conducting and composing, this most romantic of operatic tenors cites his greatest musical passion as something different: "Mozart said that, 'After J S Bach, each note we write can only be a commentary'. If you analyse Bach's music, you realise you can only try to be as good as you can be, without pretending to be more, because after that, what can anybody say? The experience that most touched my soul was conducting, years ago, the St Matthew Passion. One thing I regret is that I cannot sing Bach, because his works are far away from my type of voice."

Still, an artist such as Cura is never going to be pigeonholed. "The mood nowadays is to put people into specialised boxes - it's the most comfortable way of keeping them under control," he says, "but those who have things to do will jump out. I'm not alone; many people are trying to make society less cold in terms of specialisation. I don't see myself doing just one thing for the sake of avoiding being pointed at. I would be frustrated and I prefer to take the risks." He grins. "Altogether, it's not going too badly."

 

 

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Verona Aida

 

 

 

 

	Il Re Marco Spotti     Amneris Tichina Vaughn     Aida Micaela Carosi     Radames José Cura     Ramfis Carlo Colombara     Amonasro Alberto Mastromarino     Un messaggero Carlo Bosi     Sacerdotessa Antonella Trevisan     Prima ballerina Myrna Kamara     Primo ballerino Giovanni Patti     Regia e scene Franco Zeffirelli     Costumi Anna Anni     Coreografia Vladimir Vassiliev     Orchestra, Coro, Corpo di ballo dell'Arena di Verona     Maestro del coro Marco Faelli     Direttore      Daniel Oren

Thanks to Ryoko for the lovely drawing of José Cura

 Otello in Munich!

Otello in Munich     2 & 5 July 2005     Otello     José Cura Desdemona    Barbara Frittoli Iago    Sergei Leiferkus Conductor   Zubin Mehta           José Cura gave the soul and weight for the opera while he fitted well his acting and singing to the styles of his partners and the artificially frozen environment inspired by the stage. His voice sounded magnificently during the evening and you could discover many new aspects in his acting again.  He built up the role along a very sensitive, gradual line applying less physical movement but more inner playing of his powerful body and colourful, heroic timbre. One could think these were only little gestures but those elements he developed further were always important fineness and brought dramatic novelties into the play which twisted and renewed the well-known drama beautifully. -  Zsusanna               Forget clichés.  Throw away the usual adjectives.  Reach beyond the common terms but know in advance that words are useless to describe the rare convergence of art, music, and personalities this summer at the Munich Opern-Festspeile in early July.  Those of us lucky enough to be in the National Theater to watch Otello and Desdemona live and die shared an experience that will not soon be forgotten.  With José Cura and Barbara Frittoli on stage, with Zubin Mehta on the podium, the passion and power of this great tragedy engulfed the audience and swept us along in a whirlpool of intrigue and despair.  The stars may never again align so favorably; we may never again be so touched.  At least we can look at the photos and read the reviews and remember when, once upon a time, we experienced magic.  And for that, we are grateful.  - Deb

 Fanciulla in London!

	“In José Cura [Minnie] has a Dick Johnson worth dying for. This is the best performance Cura has given in London: the selfish outlaw comes good with a voice that rings out handsomely without milking the notes, with a style of acting that never stoops to melodrama.”  Financial Times, September 2005
	“José Cura was, inevitably, the star turn.  He looked the part, evidently enjoying the boots, the strut and the swagger; but, more important, he has a good baritonal presence (most of the first act is set very low) and some of the best high B flats in the business.”  Opera, November 2005
	"Though the role of Dick Johnson is not long, it offers the best possible opportunity for the virile timbre of this tenor to shine not only in tenacious high altitude flights but also in elegantly measured veristic attacks in the middle voice.  The presence of this singer guaranteed high quality...”  Das Opernglas, November 2005
	“José Cura, as Johnson, gives off a strange oral musk that makes you believe he’s the sexiest thing on legs, even though good sense would normally tell you otherwise.  But he can shape a phrase with the best and his voice is ideal for the barely controlled histrionics Puccini demands.”  Evening Standard, September 2005
	"... you could not have found a better leading duo for this performance than Andrea Gruber (Minnie) and José Cura (Dick Johnson/Ramerrez) taking into account the level of integration and harmony they added to their roles and to the whole script. Their matching was simple perfect in the aspects of their acting style, vocal performance and the honest, warm intensity of their stage presences. I would have been completely satisfied only to watch and enjoy their acting alone on the stage, if we only had been in the cinema and watching a “silent film” accompanied by Puccini’s orchestral background. But above all, they sang the score marvelously showing the lovable comedian and dramatic impacts of the phrases giving the perfect reactions for the music and situation. .. Zsuzsana
Listen to José Cura sing Quello che voi tacete
Listen to  José Cura talks about the role of Dick Johnson
[Dick Johnson] is a role "in which a Latin American sits in his own sauce, without having to resort to tricks: it is enough to use my own natural gestures" because the bandit is actually a mestizo, born of Spanish and American blood, Cura says.   "I fit into the role most comfortably."

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