LaNacion article June 2007

 

 

José Cura, the Return of the Prodigal Son

 

He will star in the opera Samson and Dalila

 

One of the main items of interest in the current classical music schedule of the city of Buenos Aires is without a doubt the return of one of its prodigal sons, the Rosarino tenor José Cura, after an eight year absence from the country. Living in Europe for the past 16 years (currently in Spain), Cura’s name is synonymous with success in portraying the dramatic characters of the operatic repertoire, something which naturally turns him into one of the most sought-after tenors in the world and one of the most popular figures in his field. It also doesn’t hurt that on top of a phenomenal voice, José Cura has an excellent physique for his type of role as well as an exceptional professional foundation, which is both complete and multi-faceted. The arrival in Buenos Aires of one of opera’s most dazzling international opera stars puts the seal of the best in the world of opera on the Teatro Colón’s season with a role that is custom-made for him: the character of Samson in the Romantic-era opera “Samson and Dalila”. Together with Cecilia Díaz and the cast, chorus and orchestra of the Teatro Colón, the tenor will appear tomorrow evening at 8:30 in a concert version at the Coliseo.

 

The Titan of Opera

 

In the fifteen years of his successful international career, José Cura has frequented not only the most prestigious halls and theaters in the classical music world (Met, Covent Garden, LaScala, Opera National in Paris, Staatsoper in Vienna, Hamburg and Zurich, and the Deutsche Oper in Berlin among others) but has also been present on remote stages, has visited countries far removed from the traditional circuit, has conquered exotic audiences as to opera and untiringly carried the art of music and theater to inconceivable corners of the world. At his side sing the most glamorous divas and direct the most celebrated conductors. Parallel to his intense activity in the theater (as conductor, singer and régisseur), he exploits his ample qualities as communicator and showman with surprising ease, offering recitals and shows—some of them on outdoor stages in front of thousands of people—in which he combines singing with orchestral conducting (in an original format he himself calls ‘half and half’), something that has earned him both the criticism from the most conservative sectors of the music media and the admiration of his fans, as well as an  unusual popularity for an artist in the classical genre.

 

When José Cura began to be mentioned on the front pages of the music media of the world, the legendary figure of Samson was among the first roles to be associated with the name and image of the Argentine tenor. Not only the qualities of the timbre and the character of his voice, but also the exuberance of his personality, his charisma and imposing stage presence permitted him to be proclaimed—along with other great characters that he portrays with equal empathy such as Otello, Canio, Don Carlo and Turridu—the ideal interpreter of the biblical hero for several generations.

 

Some years have elapsed since then; quite to the contrary of what often happens with a career that takes off too quickly and with excessive fanfare only to become exhausted by the media frenzy, all the predictions that accompanied José Cura’s spectacular international rise have come to fruition in a career beyond measure. In the following interview, the tenor refers to different interpretative aspects of the role of Samson.

 

---What does one do about the voice with respect to the traditional classification for Samson?

 

---If one would like to interpret Samson in the spirit which is strictly understood as stylized French music, in a historic sense, we would have to start with a voice that I would not say is light but one with much less attack. It is very different to do the role as it was conceived in around 1890. If we want to, on the other hand, perform a modern Samson in light of the acoustic problems and issues that we live with, the difference in the conception as to the vocal aspect is enormous. More than relegating the role to a classification based on the number of decibels produced, I prefer to think of it on the basis of psychological coloring which is (to be sure) a determining factor in the profile of the character.

 

---What are those acoustic problems?

 

---The size of the theater today is enormous. Then, there is the fact that the orchestra sounds very loud due to the harmonic density of the modern instruments. A third point, (and) a more dramatic one, is the rise of the diapason. The majority of the operas which we perform today were written between 1800 and 1900. During that period, the diapason oscillated between 432 and 435 cycles, which means that, when we compare it with the diapason that we use today, which is almost at 445, even up to 450 cycles, we have an increase in the tone by a third, even up to a half tone. In short, this has caused an important modification in how we sing as compared to the past. The logic of these conditions causes the vocalizing (singing) of certain dramatic characters to be awarded to voices which are much stronger and more robust.

 

---With respect to the tessitura in which Samson is written, it is for a dark and baritonal tenor who sings most of the opera in the middle register (medio-grave). How do you decide the delivery of the high notes over the orchestra and chorus?

 

---With a high note that has much density (spessore), that is broad and large. We are talking about a mythological hero who bases his entire legend on his physical power; therefore, it would be ridiculous for the character to sing these notes with the same sound value as, for example, a high note of the tenor in “La bohème”. The more beautiful and correct the sound is, the more it lacks dramatic intensity. This is the great vocal challenge of Samson and of all the roles of the dramatic tenor in general.

 

---What is your perception of the character with respect to vocal brilliance?

 

---Samson has clearly defined moments in which he is able to shine for very different reasons. In the first act, he is aggressive, a warrior of the Old Testament. In the second act, the aggression changes to sensuality and extreme insecurity in relation with himself, with God and with the feminine. In the third act, which is spiritually the most interesting, is where Samson redefines himself.  In the entire first part of this act, Samson ought to sing media voce. In the second part this changes on the other hand, and we have again another type of singing. It is the moment of redemption understood within the framework of a culture that existed 1500 years before Christ. The possibilities to shine are extensive and manifold.

 

---Does this role give you a feeling of satisfaction?

 

---Very much so! Samson is one of the roles that I am indebted to the most for really making me shine on stage. He is one of the characters that have given me the greatest satisfaction throughout of my career.

 

Translation: Monica B.

 

 

 

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A Conversation with José Cura

María Josefina Bertossi

When José Cura came down punctually to the lobby to give us his final interview before returning to Europe, I thought it was gracious of him not to have canceled after the effort of the previous night’s concert when he sang while suffering from an untimely cold (for a singer, a cold is always untimely).  Besides, it was a very cold 9 July (Rosarinos hardly remember when it was really cold) and many expected snow. I will never forget when it snowed in Rosario a few days before my entire family was involved in a car accident and we saw the snow on the windows of the hospital, recalled the Rosarino musician (singer, director, composer) who now lives in Madrid but works in capital cities around the world.

“Have you ever tried to pick a flower with a glove?” was the first thing we heard from José Cura from the stage.  The opening question was an attempt to explain how it feels for a musician to sing with a cold and, in addition, to share the recital and the respiratory affliction with the pianist, Rosarino Eduardo Delgado, also ill with a cold.

The audience filled the auditorium of the Teatro Fundación for the concert on 8 July, the main event of the 25^th anniversary of the Mozarteum of Rosario, which had been announced as a program of chamber music, a difficult assignment considering the health (of the artists) since this repertoire needs vocal subtleties, but we can attest that the artist carried it off with experience that comes from the position, interspersed with enjoyable and sincere comments.

“Last night I took a beating and this morning I rose voiceless.  Anyone who isn’t in this career has no idea of the significance of singing with bronchitis.  I did well and believe those who saw it liked it,” Cura said with satisfaction.

There were those who hoped you would sing opera even though chamber music had been announced.

The program said chamber music.  I would love to do all of my concerts this way. I do not enjoy singing arias in concerts because opera in concert is monastic and the audience always expects me to sing the same thing.  Besides, opera cannot be done with just a piano and for a concert as important as this anniversary it had to be a chamber concert with piano.

The auditorium of a theater can be a good thermometer to measure the relationship between an artist and the public, and it is there that we listened as some talked about this singer.  José Cura is the full name of an international artist, but those who knew him in Rosario, in Fisherton, and from childhood they have called him what they always called him:  José Luis.

José was designated by the exigencies of the program space because José Luis is too long.  Only in Rosario do they call me José Luis.

The concert represented the world-wide release of Sonetos, a work based on the verses of Pablo Neruda with music by José Cura.   The composer explained that once in a dressing room somebody left him a book of poems by Neruda, which he fortuitously opened to the page of the sonnet that begins “When I die, I want your hands on my eyes.” 

The premiere was not assured, however, since authorization from the heirs of the Chilean poet arrived only four days earlier.

Here in Rosario we saw you and we listened to a singer, composer and director.  How difficult is it on the international level to impose the role of director and composer on the figure known as a singer?

I never impose it.  I propose.  Those who like the proposal accept it, those who do not, don’t.  I conduct a lot and in very important locales such as the Vienna Opera and when you direct the Wiener, you conduct one of the significant orchestras in the world, the same is true in London with the London Symphony.   There is never this sort of question because when one stands in front of the orchestra for the first three minutes the musicians see the tenor but then no longer, because to move forward without a professional musician [standing on the podium] would not be possible.  The preconception comes from the press, which does not understand and uses tenor as a bad word.  To say someone is a tenor is like saying that she is a woman rather than a feminist, like referring to a stupid individual with no rights.

The buzz surrounding the concert was the announcement of the ‘music’ of José Cura.

Because of it, the highest points in the entire night were the sonnets, twenty minutes of music of very strong intensity and that says a lot.  When you write something people have not felt, makes no sense to them, they start fidgeting and begin coughing.  Therefore, it was very emotional, and one must not forget this was a premier, that while the audience was listening, and it is complicated [music], they were already analyzing it and enjoying it.  There was a lot of work (in composing), hard work with theatrical awareness.  Every harmony and every melodic turn tried to continue the poetry of Neruda.

In our city, there is a lot of music and many musicians who feel dissatisfied with what they can and cannot do.

There is something everyone needs to know:  nobody comes to seek you out, and this is true not only in Rosario or in Argentina:  it is that way in the world.  Youth has a tendency to say ‘I am the best in the world but no one knows it.’  I know many cases like that, both colleagues and students, who come to me and say ‘Maestro, what do I have to do?’ and I tell them they must go out and bang on doors, and they say to me ‘But what happened that made you so lucky?'   Luck?  I have spent more than thirty years doing this and only in the last ten or fifteen years have I begun to see the fruit.  Recently, in the last five years of my life, I have been transformed by an event that is very easy to obtain—the event of maturing.

Sometimes, someone will ask me how it feels to be famous and I say nothing at all, because it is so easy to become famous.  Nowadays, with the mass media, being a celebrity is almost free.  The difference is to achieve the sort of fame that is transformed into greatness.

Sometimes the decision to leave or to stay can be very difficult.

Emigration is always difficult.  Even though now it is easier for us than for our grandparents, that does not stop it from being traumatic.  When you move to a country where nobody greets you, nobody knows you, and when you present your work visa they look at you badly simply because you are Argentine or because you are a foreigner, and there is nothing you do to avoid it, and that it what happened to my wife and me.  There were many people who told me not to leave but if I had a contract I would not have gone. For example, in Buenos Aires some singers asked me how they were singing and I said good.  “Well, then, if you have a contract you can send it to me.” No, it doesn’t work like that. 

The concert ended with “Aurora” by Hector Panizza, the same aria that was sung together with the audience at the Monument to the Flag, the same one which he also occasionally surprises the English audiences.  Despite the respiratory problem that appeared in the last note of the aria, when the audience asked one more from him, Cura , with humility, agreed to one last one.

You have a work dedicated to the Malvinas.  What has happened to it has not be produce?

I knocked on two or three doors and they were not opened, nobody seemed interested in it.  Perhaps it was not the moment.  When I wrote it in 1984, I was 22 years old and we were entering a democracy.  It is a work for two choirs, with the dream being there would be an Argentine choir and an English choir, quartet soloist, a children’s choir, an orchestra—a very big, very expensive work.  I wrote it in ’84 and there it remains, and if some day I decide to do it perhaps I will have to revise it, because many years have passed and with them a lot of experience has been gained, or maybe not, because perhaps it would be nice to show what a boy of 21 wrote at that age.

 

 

José Cura

ParaTi

19 July 2007

Julieta Mortati

The renown Argentine tenor, currently living in Madrid, is in Buenos Aires for the opera Samson et Dalila in the Teatro Coliseo.  In a chat with Para Ti, he related how he studied music, martial arts, and even gave classes in body building to survive.  He began to sing at the age of 27 because “I discovered that my voice could pay my bills.” He is considered to have one of the best voices in the world for its interpretative quality.  

José Cura (44) traveled to Argentina to attend the golden anniversary of his parents (the celebration is on Saturday 7 July in Rosario, his hometown).  He is accompanied by his wife, Silvia, and their three children:  José (19), Yazmín (14) and Nicolás (11).  The visit, at first a secret, was quickly divulged and the family plan was subsequently interrupted by five performances of Samson et Dalila (by Camille Saint-Saëns) in the Teatro Coliseo, with the artistic support of the Teatro Colón, and in Rosario with the festival of the 50 years of the Monument to the Flag and a chamber concert in commemoration of the 25^th anniversary of  Mozarteum, (8 July) where he will present the world premier of the Sonetos cycle, seven pieces composed for the poetry of Pablo Neruda. In his last week in this country, he walks with bags under his eyes and runny nose.  “On the stage it is cold,” says Cura of the Teatro Coliseo, “And it was not only cold but windy!  Yesterday it was blowing off my shirt and the boys in the chorus were wearing cravats and scarves on stage.  We endured, “but in the end the body just says ‘enough!’.

What does it mean for you to sing in Buenos Aires?

Well, it is not the same thing to sing for your people and your family as it is to sing for those who have your respect because they are your fans but who do not know you, do not know the man on the other side.  When you sing in your country, you know that in the audience are people who knew you as a boy.

In his childhood, Cura learned to play the piano by intuition, watching as his father interpreted Beethoven and Chopin.  Later he studied guitar, composition and piano, and entered the School of Art at the University of Rosario.  By 12 he had already begun to direct choirs and orchestras.  Along the way, he specialized in martial arts and played rugby.  Then at 27 he began to sing.  “Singing appears rather late in my musical career.  I discovered that I had a voice and initially the investment seemed very logical:  with this voice I was going to be able to eat and to give food more easily to my family than with composing.  As crude as that sounds, I started singing for purely economic reasons,” he admits and then explains:  “That which began as a blind date ended in a life-long relationship but in the beginning I believed I was going to sing for only a few years to relieve the situation, to pay the bills and pay for my house.  Finally, it turned into the full-time profession that transformed me into what I am.  There is a thing called destiny…I cannot complain.”

And when things went badly for him, he didn’t complain, either.  In 1983 he wanted to enter the Teatro Colón but a teacher at the audition told him, “You do not sing, you shout.” The he gave classes in tae kwon do, body building, and worked in a hardware store.  In 1990 he took a second audition at the Colón and finally they accepted him, but he decided to leave for Europe.  With his wife—whom he met at 16—and José, his first son, Cura took a Pan Am flight toward Milan.

[NB:  As most of his fans are aware, Mr. Cura was accepted at the Colón in 1983 and rejected in 1990, after which he decided to move to Europe.  The reporter just got the dates mixed up but we wanted to let you know the real story.]

 

A Stubborn Man

-  I was always very stubborn.  Like young children, each time they get up in the morning it is not important to them what happened the previous day, just that they are going to play again.  I believe I am like that.  I was always convinced I had something to say, I was prepared to say it, and was going to keep on saying it until I finally found someone who would listen to what I had to say and then this person would pass it on to others.  It is being eternally young beyond all mistakes and objections.  It causes one to want to continue forward with the same thing.

In 1995 [editor's note: he won in 1994], Cura won the Operalia singing contest, presided over by Plácido Domingo, and quickly became one of the most prestigious tenors in the world, especially praised for his interpretive qualities.  A year later, he made his début in the role of Samson at the Royal Opera House in London, a role that he continues to perform and for which he received the Orphée d’Or and Echo Klassik awards.

- What is important for you to interpreting Samson et Dalila?

- One of the things in regards to this opera is its use of force.  Some fifteen hundred years before Christ there was killing in the name of God, and 3500 years later, it is the same thing.  Humans still do not have the courage to take responsibilities for their mistakes or their successes.  If we need to kill, the fault is with the other, and if we use God, so much the better because no one can complain or say anything.   

- And personally?

- This opera has a special aura because it has been with me practically throughout my career.  I have it very well done, very well chewed, very studied, and very sung.  The character is the same in all works, the equation is different.  Every performance is like an act of love, a sexual act, and it is the audience who is your partner at this moment.  And you have to ask yourself, “How much do I give to the artist?” The difference between an audience who succumbs to the artist and one that does not is enormous. It is like making love to a plastic doll.

- How do you prepare for your roles?

- The voice functions like the face of a model.  When you are going to do a photography shoot, you have to treat yourself to more sleep so that you have the least ‘wrinkles’ possible.  And on the day of a performance, if a singer tries to rest everything so the voice can be as fresh as possible, that is ideal.

- Why did you decide to live in Europe?

- I like Madrid, we have a most beautiful house where I am able to have all the things I want in my life, achieve all my whims.

- Do you have the tastes of a divo, eccentricities?

- Eccentricities, none.  But, yes, I give myself the things that I want.  I have a wine cellar in my home, with a pile of wine I have collected.  I have a pool, a gymnasium, the things that we have always wanted in the way we like most.

Cura confesses that when he is alone in the house he enjoys silence and he never sings in the shower.  He prefers to shop, to cook, and to taste wine.

- And you also like photography?

- Yes, I love it, and we are now negotiating the release of my first book of photographs with a Swiss publisher.  I like news-photography, not posed photos, and take to the streets with my camera to collect the testimony of the entire world.  I grab hold of my camera and get lost.  I have ended up in some screwed up neighborhoods and more than once have had to be removed from complicated situations.  I love to know the true face of a town.

- Opera is often considered to be of the elite.  Is this something that bothers you?

- It is always spoken of as elite, but anywhere in the world the ticket price to listen to an opera costs less that the cost of tickets to the [sports] field.  For many years there was a tendency:  people who liked classical music wanted to feel exclusive, but that is stupid because the composers wrote the music for everyone.  They were simple people, but not easy people.  They were geniuses because they were simple, and this trend to deify them became fashionable at the beginning of the twentieth century, when these divisions were created for the purpose for with which all divisions are created:  “Divide and you will rule.’ When in fact there is only good music and bad music.  There is boring classical music and brilliant popular music.

 

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José Cura:  Titan of the Opera

 

He has just arrived in the country to dazzle us with his talent.  This Argentine tenor, who has already triumphed in Europe, will sing today in Rosario.  

 [gist translation]

José Cura is one of the tenors in greatest demand on the international stage and also one of the most popular figures in classical music, but he does not agree with such high praise. His is a multifaceted talent (singer, conductor, composer, guitarist, régisseur and businessman), impelled by a spirit always eager for creativity and challenges, leading him on a journey toward artistic satisfaction.  Always on the edge of frenzy from this fascinating life, Cura’s temperament seems to have been forged to enjoy facing risks, as a real titan, and not in vain has it been written that his is one of the greatest voices of the century.  For all that, and in spite of his youth, José Cura has already joined Olympus as one of the mythical singers [sacred monsters] of the 21^st century.  

An anticipated return home

He returned to Argentina, like one of our more prodigal sons, for a concert production of the opera Samson et Dalila by Teatro Colon, but most of all to his audience, to their affection, and to his family.  “After 16 years in Europe, my house, in a physical sense, is no longer in Argentina.  But my feelings, my memories and my most intimate experiences, these will always continue to remain in my country.  I am happy to return and meet again with the people with whom I grew up in an artistic sense.  I want to see the countrymen with whom I was lucky enough to share the ‘kindergarten’ of the stage,” recounted José in a talk in Berlin, Germany, not long before he returned home. And then, as it could not otherwise be, speaking of reunions inevitably means speaking of memories and the conversation, with Cura showing a less familiar side, could not help but begin with his beloved hometown, Rosario.

Memories of Rosario

“The oldest images I retain of Rosario,” he recalls, “are the first two or three days of primary school.  I do not know if that was in the LaSalle or San José School, because after three days my parents withdrew me to enroll me into a new school, one that had just opened by the brothers of Saint Patrick of Ireland.  We were the first class.  There were barely two rooms and a patio.  My class was also the first class to graduate.  Today it is a great school, one of the biggest in Rosario. The last time I was in Argentina, in 1999, I visited the school, I met with the students and I encountered a couple of my former companions.  So there is where I begin my memories of Rosario, in the little school of St Patrick. In reality so many years have passed…and it is only now when I return that I perceive this passing of time.”  The imaginary route soon pass by his old house near the river and the second one in the first residential district of Rosario.  Almost immediately, and understanding the strong connection that joins them, music arrived and, of course, with it the beginning of the history whose future chapters would cause him to do nothing less than conquer the world.  “Music always formed part of my family.  My father played piano well enough.  I have a very clear image of when, as a boy, I watched him, seated at the piano, playing Chopin and Liszt.  Then he tried to imprint on me his own story as a boy, sending me to study piano with a teacher in the neighborhood.  But the initiative did not work.”  After a few months, the teacher dismissed his young student with a brief note sent to his parents, in which he explained, sadly, that it would be best to wait for a time when an interest [in music] developed in José that had, to that moment, not been demonstrated, and at the same time he recommended looking for a hobby that appealed to the young man, because musical sensitivity did not seem strong in him.  “It was probably true at that time, and the best example was that, from that moment, I began to devote myself to rugby.” 

Musical Beginnings

But when did he discover his extraordinary vocation in music and what was that cause that permanently awoke his sensibilities?  Oddly and without warning, that event was the result of an examination to enter secondary school.  “I was there with one of my best friends.  He played his guitar, the Beatles were fashionable, and he created a lot of interest.  I learned to play immediately and the experience awoke the calling that had been sleeping within me.”  This was the friend who gave him his first set of tools.  Soon, his father contacted Ernesto Bitteti (an old family friend), and Bitteti recommended a professor with whom to study seriously.  That began the history with the guitar.  “With my exuberant and extroverted personality, I was like a time bomb.  I learned to play well enough, although always somewhat hampered by my very large hands…the things were causing me quite a lot of work but I managed to have good results.  The guitar, though, very quickly made me feel small, not in a technical sense but in the fact of it being a very introverted instrument.  For that reason, I entered the Conservatory in Rosario to study conducting and composition.” 

One of his teachers—who at the time was the director of the conservatory—gave him the advice that changed his life forever:  “His comment determined who I am today.  He said to me: To become a better conductor and composer, you will have to study singing.’  Indeed, following his advice I began singing opera and ended up becoming a singer.”  Everything that happened after that is more or less well-known history; in 1983 he auditioned for the Teatro Colon, in 1991 he left for Europe, where success and fame waited for him with open arms and rewarded him for years of sacrifice in pursuit of his dream.

Today, and for some time, José Cura has been one of the biggest names on the international music scene.  He is an exceptional professional who believes art is a profound path in life.

“One of the characteristics of classical music is that it is one of the few forms of art that remains, between one person and another, a single thing:  to the work of art itself. We interpret that work live, without networks and without lies.  That artisan concept is probably the most important aspect of music and, in my opinion, why it continues to work, although as a spectacle it may be a little anachronistic.  It is an art of skin and bone, fact with flood, sweat and tears, and for that reason it is an expression that stays alive. It is my hope that all people, at least once in their lives, are touched by this sensation, so powerful and so extraordinary.”

Love of Cerulean Blue and White

In one of his latest disks, called Aurora, José Cura included a special dedication to ‘his country’ and printed the Argentine flag on the cover.  After launch ofthat record (2002) Cura said, “I want my people to know that, for the entire world and with much pride, José Cura is an Argentine tenor.” 

 

 

 

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Two Rosario Musicians

Marcelo Menichetti

Tenor José Cura and pianist Eduardo Delgado will offer a concert today at 2100, at Auditorio Fundación Astengo, Mitre 754. The Rosarinos artists will be commemorating the 25^th anniversary of the Mozarteum Argentino Filial Rosario.

On this occasion they will present a program that includes the spiritual “Were You There”, “Cantata” by John Carter, “For a dead infant” as a piano solo, “Soneto IV” by Carlo Guastavino and the works of Gabriel Fauré “Prison” and “Chason dámour”.  After ‘Balada en sol menor Op. 23” by Maurice Ravel for solo piano, “Sonetos”,  seven musical works composed by José Cura based on the poems of Pablo Neruda, will be presented.

In the second part of the concert the artists will perform “Nocturno” by Alberto Muzzio and “Canción del árbol del olvido” by Alberto Ginastera, with more selections from the works of  Carlos Guastavino including “Se equivocó la paloma”, “La rosa y el sauce”, “Campanilla”, “Canción de perico”, “El único camino”, Elegía para un gorrión” and “Canción del carretero”. Finally there will be the “Canción a la bandera” by Héctor Panizza and, for solo piano, “Sonatina” by Carlos Guastavino and “Adiós Nonino” by Astor Piazzolla.

During rehearsal prior to the presentation, the artists talked with La Capital about their pleasure at the opportunity to celebrate the anniversary of the Mozarteum Argentino Filial Rosario and at the same time to perform together in front of their hometown.  “This recital is the first time we have worked together,” declared Delgado.  “Before this, we did the CD Anhelo (1999), in which the guitarist Ernesto Bitetti also participated,” he explained.

Cura performed a series of “Samsons” in concert version at the Teatro Coliseo in Buenos Aires that received very good reviews.  “There is great payback in the spectacle and more than anything else the emotions of singing with all my companions from the Colón after an absence of eight years,” explains the singer, “created an emotional charge of such great energy that it shocked the audience.”

Delgado is happy to share the celebration:  "I feel very honored to do this with José, because he is an international figure who performs in all the great theaters in the world and the chosen schedule is of our music, which is so beautiful,” he said.

The pianist, who has recorded all the work of Alberto Ginastera and is now preparing for a concert he will give in London next November, emphasized that next to Cura, the star of the performance will be "a concert of chamber music, not of song and piano.  The piano and the voice become two instruments in dialogue and with José I have a very special musical understanding". 

Both musicians reveal a state of mind with a degree of anxiety they do not try to hide.  “We artists are like football players because when we enter the field, it doesn’t matter to the people that we have played well and scored ten goals before:  it is what you do for them now,” Cura explains.   

 

José Cura Writes of Love

 

The tenor premieres his own songs based on poems of Pablo Neruda

 

Saturday July 7, 2007

With his performances in Samson et Dalila presented by the Teatro Colón, José Cura gave ample evidence to the Argentine public of why his name is where it is in the world of opera. Nevertheless, and not to lose the habit of being pleasantly surprised, an important moment still remains on his agenda before the tenor returns to Europe.  It is a question this time of the world premiere of his Sonnets, based on the poems of Pablo Neruda, that take place tomorrow in the program for the Mozarteum of Rosario, which is celebrating its Silver Anniversary with a concert by José Cura and pianist Eduardo Delgado in the Foundation Astengo.  The two, acquainted through the CD of Argentine music Anhelo, will offer a chamber recital, including songs from the recording, works for solo piano, and the pieces composed by Cura.

The history of these Sonnets was born in 1995, when José sang in Palermo (Sicily) in the Zandonai opera Francesca di Rimini, based on the legendary lover Romeo and Juliet.  Someone—he never knew who—left a book of Neruda poems in his dressing room with an anonymous dedication that says, “For you, who sing of love, words of love.”   On opening the book, according to the tenor, the first thing he read was the last sonnet that says “When I die, I want you hands on my eyes” and he was so moved by emotion that the music was composed almost at once in a single moment of inspiration.  He continued with “My love, if I should die and you should not” until the commitments and the dizzying life of the singer on the rise forced him to put all the beautiful ideas and sensation in a drawer not to be opened for several years, until, in 2006, the composer firmly decided to finish the project and to choose the sonnets that, he felt, still remained to complete the cycle.  The author of the dedication, very romantically, has never been revealed.

In Buenos Aires, La Nacion met with Cura and Delgado.  The pianist referred to the work as personal music whose harmonies declare a proper and elaborate language.  “They do not look like anything else.  They are interesting works and with their polyphonies and counterpoints, they are also difficult.  It gave me pleasure to work with them because they demanded I study them and because I feel I can relate with José’s musicality,” Delgado explained.

In turn, Cura added comments that referred to the composition of the Sonnets. 

-Are they composed for your own voice?

They are written for a high baritone because I consider the voice of a baritone the most beautiful one for chamber music, as in that of the mezzo for a woman.  The middle zone is where the voice flows more sweet and less forced.  This reflects my own vocals:  a dark voice with the ability to sing high notes.  It is not possible to sing them like normal songs.  They are intellectual, which means they cannot be learned by hearing them, it is necessary to be able to read and to understand in depth the music that, in reality, is a long duet of piano and song. 

- How did you transfer the musicality of the word to that of the singing voice?

-The poetry of Neruda awaken the senses, is theatrical in an old-fashioned way.  Each word is loaded with theater and drama. The options were to write melody accompany the words or to write music, but with the sensory wealth that opens us up to Neruda’s fascinating world. The complexity of the music is related to that of the text, so that it is not necessary to listen to distill pure melody.  One must concentrate in the poems, leaving the melody to present itself alone.

 

Song and Piano Combine for an All-round Tribute

 

José Cura and Eduardo Delgado celebrated 25 years of the Mozarteum Rosario.

 

Marcelo Menichetti

 

The Rosario affiliate of the Argentinean Mozarteum celebrated 25 years of operation in the city with an outstanding concert starring tenor José Cura and pianist Eduardo Delgado. The Rosarino artists, who now live abroad, returned to their hometown to offer a repertoire of songs which reached absolute high points in the world premiere of the “Sonetos”, poems by Pablo Neruda set to music by José Cura, in the instrumental versions by Delgado of Astor Piazzolla’s “Adiós Nonino” and Carlos Gustavino’s “Bailecito”, and in the brilliant closure with the “Cancion a la bandera” from Hector Panizza’s opera “Aurora”.

 

The Fundación Astengo Auditorium was filled to capacity on the cold night that was last Sunday. The not-be-postponed, not-to-be-missed event brought the highly acclaimed singer, who provided the city and his pianist with major international exposure, back on stage. The reason for the convocation was no less important: the 25^th anniversary of an institution that made possible the performance in Rosario of a large segment of the top exponents of the classical genre in recent years, including musicians, conductors, soloists, chamber ensembles and large orchestras as well as dancers and singers.

 

With the check mark of audience accord, the concert was characterized by a certain informality given it by the two protagonists. Both artists, unquestionably affected by a cold, paused to sip tea on stage. That gesture lent the necessary warmth to an evening spent in a true atmosphere of celebration saluting years of labor and fittingly capped by the presence of two sons of the city, who today are winning applause around the world, and who returned to celebrate with music an anniversary that even found a happy birthday (salute) offered from the stage.

 

Translation: Monica B.

 

Listen:

Chanson d'amour

La rosa y el sauce

 

 

 Rosarino Tenor José Cura

 

Rosario, 9 July 2007 (DYN) – The Rosarino tenor José Cura performed  in this city after an absence of eight years, accompanied on piano by another internationally recognized son of Rosario, Eduardo Delgado, in a celebratory recital in the Teatro Fundación Astengo.

The recital was carried out last night within the framework of the 25^th anniversary of the Mozarteum Argentino Filial Rosario and before an enthusiastic and effusive audience that filled the auditorium to capacity.

The audience was attentive to the singer in the interpretation of works by John Carter, Carlos Guastavino, Alberto Ginastera, Héctor Panizza, Leonard Bernstein, Gabriel Fauré and of Cura’s own works,  “Sonetos,” a series of songs inspired by the poetry of Chilean Pablo Neruda.

Cura recalled that in 1999, while he was participating in a production of Francesca di Rimini in Palermo, Italy, he returned to his dressing room to find a book of poems by Neruda that had a totally anonymous dedication:  “For you, who sing of love, words of love.”

The tenor said that the emotions that filled him on reading the verses immediately awoke the desire to compose songs for the text, but he had to delay [completing the cycle] for some years until he could finally finish in 2006.

Cura returned to his home town after a series of concerts performances of Camille Saint-Saëns’ opera “Samson et Dalila” at the Teatro Coliseo in Buenos Aires.  The tenor was accompanied on this occasion by Delgado, an outstanding pianist who has lived for three decades in Los Angeles, in the United States, and who returns at least twice a year to Rosario to visit his mother.

Delgado, who performs as well as teaches at important educational institutions in the US, served last night as a first rate accompanist and offered works by Maurice Ravel, Maurice Ravel, Carlos Guastavino and Ástor Piazzola during the concert.

Cura emphasized that the poems of Neruda “Awaken the senses, is theatrical in an old-fashioned way.  Each word is loaded with theater and drama.”

“They are written for a high baritone because I consider the voice of a baritone the most beautiful for chamber music, just as that of the mezzo is for a woman,” he said.

The tenor last performed in his hometown on Sunday, 11 April 1999, after an absence of twelve years, before an audience of some 40 thousand at the National Monument to the Flag in a concert that included songs from the Beatles.

 

 

 

July 10, 2007

 

One of life’s mysterious gifts

 

José Cura studied composition at the National University of Rosario’s School of Music, but his career channelled him into song. “My composing goes back to that period in time; later on I got totally wrapped up in singing, and today is today, “ recalled the artist who today will premiere his musical adaptations of seven sonnets based on the poetry of the Chilean Pablo Neruda. Pleased with (the fruits of) his labor, he recalled the origin of the songs: “The beginning of this is very strange and very sweet.” he says, folding his hands on the table before continuing, “In 1995 I was singing in Palermo, Sicily, and at the end of one of the performances, when I returned to my dressing room, I found a book of poems by Neruda. I opened it, and inside was a dedication signed “Anonymous”. I never knew who sent it to me: neither age, nor color, nor gender. Nothing. What happened next was that I opened the book, stumbling upon a poem that I really liked, and automatically set it to music the following day.”

 

 

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Photos from the Rosario Concert

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cura's Master Class

 

Gist translation

If there is a pinnacle for artists, that is, a higher level where the chosen few live, then yesterday, Friday, 27 July 2007, between 10 AM and 8 PM, José Cura’s place remained empty, because during that time he descended with humility to the lower level to connect with the youths who attended his master class, as much with those who sang as with those who listened.  (Yes, you read correctly, with humility, words which, according to “critics” cannot be applied to this Rosarino who is so passionate about his work.)

They were all eager to hear the comments and guidance Maestro would offer, and Cura is a true teacher.  The educator Estanislao Antelo, of the same University where yesterday’s master class was celebrated, has said that ‘to teach, you have to pass on what others have given…it has to be impose …. It has to be shown and show itself…it has to been given time and have time…to want the other to be in the life ….to love what is being taught.”  All of this was demonstrated by José Cura, or José Luis as the Rosarinos who knew him long before international audiences did still call him.

 

Cura showed no restraint in passing on his experiences over an intense 15 years working in operas, chamber songs, composition, and orchestral direction, using plain and straightforward words and concrete images when he needed to extract a different interpretive approach on the part of the singers who had the great opportunity to be listened to by him.

If there was something in common that all needed to work on and that he insisted on with almost all the participants, it was performance, leaving it clear that the singer is an actor:  “We are actors, we can act….make the most of it, and for that it is necessary to be innocent, just as when we were boys pretending to be different.  That innocence has to serve us in acting.”

 

 

He talked about the fact that music is work that cannot be put off, although there may be problems with health or other disadvantages, and also spoke of the ‘great challenge to combine the world of business with that of art,’ another aspect that must be considered by professional singers.

The assembly hall was completely full during the entire day and in the first row were the teachers and leaders of the school; among the public were opera singers, students, instrumentalists, conductors, pop music singers, all understanding the reason for the class was the generosity of the teacher.

 

 

Those participating were advanced students and graduates of the School of Music of the National University of Rosario:  Ismael Barrile, Florencia Machado, Mariana Pedroza, Verónica Alvarez, Ivanna Grennon, Carina Lugarini, Milton Miller, Belén Rivarola, Andrés Novero, Sol Bennasar and Romina Casella. 

Baritone Ismael Barrile, a graduate of the school and the first participant in the class, says that Maestro Cura “adapted to each one of us, he listened to us and for each one he picked one aspect that we needed to improve for a better interpretation.  For me, for him to have come here, it was like Plácido Domingo giving a class 30 years ago, but [Cura] is Argentine and he speaks to us in our language.  Besides, he always told us the truth, the way things are.  I liked it when he spoke of the rules and how we can break them only if we have fulfilled them at some time.  I especially valued the fact he seemed always to be the peer [the equal] of the singers who were there to learn.”

 

Acclaimed Argentine Tenor to offer Two Masterclasses in Nancy

 5-13-2007

José Cura as teacher

Although he has not sung in France for over six years—for reasons he can’t explain—he is driven to share his knowledge with the next generation.

The Argentine tenor José Cura, who in September will offer two masterclasses in the French location of Nancy, says he feels a need to teach the younger interpreters.

“All artists, after achieving a certain level of experience, have an obligation to give something back to the future generations. On the one hand because we owe much to those who came before and on the other in an effort to help avoid the Calvary through which I passed,” said Cura during a press conference in Paris.

The singer made reference to his difficult beginnings, when bad advice forced him into the wrong repertoire and nearly ended his career.

Cura, who has not performed in France since 2001, will return to the country in which he lived for five years to offer masterclasses on 1 and 2 September, followed by a concert whose profits will be targeted to benefit charities. 

The Argentine tenor and conductor says he will not try to “teach how to sing” but instead will convey to his students his experiences and the importance of bringing passion to the profession.

Transmitting Passion

“I am not the Pope, I do not teach dogma, I merely transmit my experiences.  The beauty and the success of a voice is somewhat subjective but there is nothing subjective about a human’s commitment, both artistically and professionally.  It is something I take very seriously and it has become my cause," he commented.

Cura will focus on “the importance of feeling the character being interpreted,” because, he says, “in the theatre it is necessary to offer something special in the interpretation, otherwise people will put on a CD, stay home and save the money a ticket would cost.”

The tenor does not deny the importance of good vocal technique but insists that technique should be transparent. 

“One of the best compliments I receive is when they say I do not have technique.  What that means is that my technique is not obvious and I am one of those who thinks that if you notice [technique] while the singer is performing then he is interpreting badly," he said.  

Stubborn Artist

Cura believes that current opera productions require tenors to sing too forcefully because scores originally designed for 50 instruments are now being played by 90.  “It is the heritage of a few people who destroyed it 50 years ago to stay in favor with the press,” he says.

He feels there is an advantage to students with him being both singer and conductor.

Cura did not dwell on the reasons for his absence from France for six years, though he does remember that the critics of his final performance were ferocious. “The last time I was here they said I was finished.  Six years later I am back and ready to continue the battle.”

The singer confesses he does not know why no one has called him to return to France, a country in which he lived for five year and where his youngest child was born.  “I have no bad memories of France but if she has bad memories of me, then there is nothing I can do about it.  If I return to perform, it will be the same as before, because with age I have become even more stubborn.  I am not going to force anyone to hire me.  I have more work now than I can do,” he says.

 

 

 

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Concert lyrique final
des master classes de José Cura

Prélude, ouverture, airs et duos d’opéras de :

Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848)
Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901)
Camille Saint-Saëns 1835-1921
Jules Massenet 1842-1912
Ruggero Leoncavallo (1857-1919)
Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924)

José Cura, ténor, Artistes lyriques
Orchestre symphonique et lyrique de Nancy
Directions musicales : José Cura; Mario De Rose

Nancy, Opéra national de Nancy et de Lorraine,
Dimanche 2 septembre 2007

[gist translation]

 

 

The operatic tradition of the City of Dukes de Lorraine has been well established for years and many natives of Nancy remember - and have carefully preserve the programs - the fabulous lyric seasons of the [19]50s, when a new spectacle would be presented every week!  It was not rare to attend, to list only two titles, Postillon de Longjumeau by Adolphe Adams or La Poupée by Edmond Audran.  Over the years the city has not been able to preserve such recurrences of opera magic but has continued to treat the public with high quality entertainment presented by artists of national and international fame.

Indeed, it was a frequent occurrence to hear those to whom we added, after their names, “from the opera” to indicate they were glorious residents of the Paris Opera--Mado Robin, Jacqueline Brumaire, Régine Crespin, Guy Chauvet, Henri Legay, Michel Dens, Gabriel Baquier, Alain Vanzo.   The Opera of Nancy also welcomed great international stars and we regularly found Piero Cappuccilli, Rolando Panerai, Nicola Rossi Lemeni, Sesto Bruscantini, Paolo Montarsolo, Ruggero Raimondi, and Fedora Barbieri alongside other artists from Europe and even from Asia. Sometimes the biggest of the big pass through Nancy, such as Lucia Valentini Terrani and, before unrolling the red carpet for José Cura, a great singer of today, his illustrious predecessor-tenors: Giacomo Lauri Volpi, Luis Mariano and Carlo Bergonzi.

It was a time when the people supported this opera and in the late 60s the first association promoting lectures and brochures to represent the works on the opera’s season, as well as hosting open receptions with the artists, was born. Today, the city has four (!) [of these associations] and one of them, Nancy Opéra Passion, had a surprise for the public that reflected the splendours of the not-so-distant past. …..We can see what creates the ‘passion’ in the title of the association:  bring an artist of the calibre of José Cura, who returns to France after an absence of six years, and allow us, a fabulous once-in-a-lifetime chance, to “draw near this immense artist,” according to the President [of the association, Jacques Delfosse].

[...]

Now it is time to exclaim, much as Tonio from Pagliacci comes in front of the curtain to explain in Leoncavallo's brilliant conceived Prologue: "Andiam, incominciate!” (Let us go, begin!).

 

 

 

 

 

It is precisely the Prelude from Pagliacci that the orchestra attacks, spread out widely and in an impressive way for the public most familiar with it jammed into its “Golfo mistico,” to use once more the attractive Italian expression for the orchestra pit.  Curiously, it is not José Cura who directs…we know, however, of the double talent of this artist, the one who becomes a conductor to be more still, if one can say so, to listen to the singers.

We notice the energy and heat with which Mario De Rose (José Cura’s assistant) attacks and drives the tormented music of Leoncavallo, but what are they going to do as the prelude breaks off so that the baritone can appear in front of the curtain? We get the answer and a surprise:  it is no less than José Cura, the great tenor, who sings the part of the baritone!  In doing so he takes up the practice of outstanding tenors such as the incomparable Mario Del Monaco, tenors whose span of vocal registers allows them this performance.

We discover just like that the measure of this Artist:  the exceptional cream and quality of the timbre, combined with perfect control of vocal emission and a warmly Latin vibration and an interpreter who obviously ‘lives’ what he sings.  One does not need more to conquer this curious public, even if he is already known, and it did not end the evening's surprises. . . . .

With surprising ease, José Cura addresses the public, jokes with them and then introduces the first artist, Stéphanie Vernerin, from France, who sings with attractive fruity tones Musetta’s waltz from La Bohéme (G. Puccini).   One hardly recovers from the quality of the timbre and the singing of this young soprano, who began in 2004, when José Cura underlines the peculiarity of the bass which he introduces.  Jan St’ Ava come from the Czech Republic and is only nineteen years old but nevertheless has a voice with a cavernous low register enhanced by a brilliant middle and with the capability of bringing to life "Vecchia zimarra", the famous, if brief, intense aria of the philosopher Colline from La Bohéme.

It was again Puccini whom we hear next and Marie Karall (France), having only begun studying last year, astonishes us with a big voice, full in all the registers and giving again grace and passion to "O Mio babbino caro" from Gianni Schicchi.  For the public who did not attend the master class the day before, no one could have suspected the miracle wrought by the “Maestro.” This soprano had arrived with a narrow, badly placed and poorly controlled voice.  José Cura, in trying to remedy this disaster, eventually said to her:  “Imagine you sing Tosca!”  And the artist, finally breaking free of herself and releasing her voice, succeeded in reaching the magnificent notes.

The tenor Avi Klemberg (France) has been working for four years but it is not only he who sings.  It is José Cura, who not only conducts the orchestra with love but also assumes the part of the baritone (!) at the beginning of the aria.  It is the brief but warm “Addio fiorito asil,” from the always charming Puccini (Madama Butterfly), which Klemberg sings in a beautiful lyric tenor with delicate high notes,  reliably and with confidence.

Maria Bisso, though Spanish, is a fellow countryman of José Cura since she was born in Buenos Aires.  She took a training course at that city’s famous “Teatro Colón,” a real bastion of Italian opera in Latin America, and won the 2001 International Competition Maria de São Paulo in Brazil. She sang nothing less than "Regnava nel silenzio,” the opening soprano aria in Lucia di Lammermoor by Donizetti. 

The means of expression explains more than anything the particular difficulty in this aria, taken straight from the Italian romantic spirit: a dreamy and delicate song but at the same time passionate, a prisoner of the era, so to speak, of vocal exercises and very shrill sections in musical expression.  Thus we are astonished that this substantial, firm, almost hard, voice was capable of such well-driven vocalism and assured high notes and ‘density.’ The contrast is most striking when compared with the next artist, a French mezzo-soprano of Italian origin, Alexia Ercolani, who began study in 2003.  The aria “Mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix” from Samson et Dalila (C. Saint-Saëns) places emphasis on the lower register and she is endowed with an impressive vibrato which blurs in the well-projected higher notes…and what a Samson responds to her!  The conductor, José Cura, who in jest, replaces the lover’s final response “Dalila!  I love you!” with an ecstatic but well good balance:  “Alexia!  I love you!”

 

 

From South Korea comes baritone Changhan Lim who has worked in France since 2003 with such artists as Elisabeth Vidal, André Cognet and Michèle Command and who has already sung on stage in La Bohéme, Carmen, Cavalleria rusticana and in the title role in Don Giovanni. A beautiful lower register and a luxurious middle as well as [vocal] suppleness, all the attributes of a valued baritone, are here put into service in the aria “Vision fugitive” from Hérodiade by Massenet, and leads us to predict a beautiful career.

A duet rarely performed in concert finishes the first half.  Drawn from Pagliacci, the duet between Nedda and Silvio allows us to hear again soprano Maria Bisso, impeccable in the old-fashioned coloratura of Nedda, and to discover a young, local baritone, since Benjamin Colin was born in Nancy.  Also a student of Michèle Command, he began in both opera and operetta; one feels in his performance brave work, effort and concentration in spite of his difficulties in pronouncing Italian, a curious yet perceptible defect, considering the mother tongues are “cousins,” noticeable in French singers. He is now part—just consecrated—of the Chœurs de l’Opéra national de Nancy and Lorraine.

After the break a beautiful surprised awaited the public when José Cura announced a favorite opening of opera concerts:  I Vespri Siciliani (or rather Les Vêpres siciliennes, because the original French version is being given more and more often) of Giuseppe Verdi.

We had been, up to now, able to appreciate the art of conducting by José Cura, who does not enslave the singers as we could accuse some conductors of doing but rather serves the singers as the composer [would]. With this masterly opening, we now had the measure of this chef-d’orchestre in opera, renewing an ever more distant tradition, as well as the fashion of today, to conduct quickly, believing that speed ‘equals’ dramatic. One result is that we often end up with a dry interpretation, empty of poetry and burnt wings of Musique.  José Cura, however, let the orchestra breathe (and God knows how much Verdi needs to breathe:  we speak of the sight of panting Verdiens).  Of course, the poignant motive for the father-son duet played here by cellos is already opera par excellence, but it is still necessary to know how to let them sing. As for the martial crescendo, more usually solid or booming, we heard it amazingly produced, in the style of Franco Capuana, supple and warm like Gianandrea Gavazzeni.  In brief, much like Fernando Previtali, José Cura made the entire overture vibrate with a theatrical sense…

At the end of the burst of amply deserved applause, it was touching to hear José Cura, as if speaking to himself, as a dreamer still under the spell (nevertheless obtained by him!), murmur, ‘What an orchestra, my God!”,  and then still pensive and in a hushed voice, to the first rows, “This belongs to you!  It must be preserved!”

 

 

But why does he not turn around completely to receive the applause?  It is because an even more beautiful picture awaits us: Cura eventually steps down from the podium, joins the first instrumentalists and then faces the public, one with the orchestra.

The second part of the concert opened with more Verdi, the great baritone aria from Don Rodrigo di Posa in Don Carlo. Although the piece is usually called “Mort de Posa” because the character is shot during this scene in the drama, we could enjoy José Cura’s joke in which he introduces it as follows: “The death of Rodrigo, but without the death!” Such perhaps was his intention, but it could also mean that the baritone was going to sing only the first of two arias, which make up what we would call a double ‘aria.’  Andrej Benes, who come from the Czech Republic, had the luck to meet in 2004 (the year of his debut) one of the greatest baritones of the 20^th century, Giuseppe Taddei.  We were struck to discover the ‘purified’ tone of D. Fischer Dieskau, with the German singer's characteristic clarity of emission, and at the same time,with an astonishingly assured high notes.  As for the counterpart envisioned by Verdi for Don Carlo, also present at this moment in the opera, we heard them coming from another mouth and, once we recovered from the surprising effect which they produced when seeming to come our of nowhere, we said to ourselves:  “But of course!  José Cura does Don Carlo—and what a Don Carlo!”

The captivating Verdi was always honored for the following piece, the dazzling Finale to the first Act of La Traviata.  Aude Priya Engel (France), who left the Academy of Toulouse in 2002, has already sung this work, as well as in La Bohéme and Mozart’s Don Giovanni.  Her blazing timbre “leaves” in the high notes in a surprising way but the astonishing mastery she has is also there. She also surmounted the difficulties of the final cabaletta “Sempre libera,” of which it is absolutely necessary for us to underline the quietly mischievous tempo (of another era!) which José Cura imprints with his orchestra.  We know that in this piece Alfred intervenes, off-stage under Violetta’s window, a detail that often makes us smile in fascination according to how near or far the theater relegates the poor tenor, sometimes almost in the cellar, as someone once commented in humor. Well, this time it starts straightforwardly and especially since Alfredo is present on stage, a brilliant Alfredo, high notes blazing, José Cura putting into practice as well the words which he sings:  “Amore è palpito…” while by his side, his Violetta, all the more stimulated, one must say, vocally ignites.

Next is the first part of Alfredo’s aria “De’ miei bollenti spiriti” sung by tenor Thomas Blondelle from Belgium.  A young graduate of the Conservatory of Bruges, he has received numerous prizes since 2006.  His tone is clear and he is endowed with such confidence that we were amazed at the strength in which he ‘lives’ his singing and, though this is not always the case with this aria, vibrates literally with the words he sings:  “De’miei bollenti spiriti / Il giovanil ardore : De mon esprit bouillant, / La juvénile ardeur.”

Very deserving, a young soprano moves onstage gracefully but without affectation and José Cura explains that Gabrijela Ubavic, from Serbia, is ill but, in the absence of being able to really perform, she is still anxious to take part.  She will sing only half of the aria “Addio del passato” (La Traviata), which means she had the praiseworthy intention to interpret the da capo which is very often cut.  José Cura consequently requested the indulgence of the audience for her.  Gabrijela Ubavic began in 2002 at the National Opera of Belgrade and has performed in Europe since then.  We are stuck at once by the consistency of her tone, luxuriously copper-colored, so to speak, rich and full but very docile, effortless.  We learn with astonishment from the program that she also sings roles requiring great vocal agility, like Gilda (Rigoletto) and Norina (Don Pasquale). Faced with such a quality of tone and song, we think with shivers of what must be the level of performance from this opera singer when she is in top form.

Finally, Julija Samsonova from Lithuania comes to sing us the last piece from the participants in the master class.  Leaving the Academy Rossini de Pesaro, she began in 2005 with the role of Corinna in Il Viaggio a Reims by Rossini at the prestigious Rossini Opera Festival, which the city has dedicated to this composer.  Here she sang Desdemona’s aria from Verdi’s Otello, the curious “Air du Saule.” Samsonova displays a velvet timbre in brilliant complexions, a beautiful sound with melodious low register, superb piani and control of tone.  An exemplary legato makes the ‘passages’ unperceivable and leaves the listener breathless. It must also be said that the orchestra formed a single body in its exceptional interpretation, José Cura chiseling marvelous subtleties from the “old man’ Verdi, like the violins in their highest notes concluding “Ave Maria.” 

José Cura, so invested and so touched by what he heard that tears come to his eyes, wonders how he is going to sing now that it is his turn, at the conclusion of the concert!

He concentrates and forgets the fatigue and heat while Maestro Rose makes his entrance.  The piece is nothing less than the finale of Otello, in which the hero contemplates his Desdemona, whom he has just straggled in unjustified jealousy before killing himself.  José Cura’s Otello roars at first, with a warm strength that is always phenomenally harmonious, filling the entire auditorium of the Opera, which is held silent and continues to hold its breath…Almost as much as the great tenor, whose astonishing emission in mezza-voce captivates the audience.  He continues the aria, always balanced between beautiful delicacy and painful intensity lived every inch…Then when Verdi greets his public—in the last dramatic flight of the orchestra, typical of its style, Otello-José Cura still cries out again:  “Un bacio… un bacio ancora… ah !… un altro bacio…” and then his voice dies out gently, and the orchestra with it.

Under his spell, the audience of the Opera of Nancy waits while the impalpable magic of the opera hangs over it before bursting into applause and then into an ovation during which José Cura invites all the artist to rejoin him joyfully on the stage.  Shortly after, the ‘Maestro’ stops the ovation with a raised arm and the public expects the announcement of an encore…perhaps the famous Brindisi from La Traviata, often selected at the end of a concert, or at least some words of greeting, of wishes, but no, José Cura declares simply with the ‘little bit direct’ carelessness which characterizes him:  “Now, we will all eat!” Then they really step off the stage, leaving the once more public astonished (this time having too little to celebrate to suit its taste) but profoundly moved.  [Yonel BULDRINI]

 

 

 

 

 

 

José Cura

by P. Rinck

September 2007

Q:  We hear you singing certain French roles regularly (Samson, Don José); we wait for your take on the role in Rodrigue (Le Cid) in January 2008. What is your relationship with France today? JC: I lived in Paris for 5 years, but today I have no special link with France.  At least, no more than with other countries.  I have a close relationship with Spain, the country where I live, and also with Portugal because I am a founder of the Society against Leukaemia and so there I do a different type of work, extra-music. Q:  You proposed a master class in Nancy.  In the past we have usually seen in the role of professor stars grown a bit old….but a tenor at the peak of his art, what does it gain you to teach?  JC: It was not me who proposed the masterclass.  We say in Argentina, “You should never give advice if you are not asked.”  I am here because I was invited.  But I came with pleasure because I have done a masterclass almost everywhere in the world in the last four years.  I have done some in Russian conservatories, in Moscow and Yekaterinburg, but also at the School of Music in Indiana and again in Buenos Aires.  In particular, I have just been named as a “visiting professor” by the Royal Academy of Music; I am the vice president of the British Youth Opera and patron of the Devon Opera.  I already devote a lot of time to teaching, because it is, I believe, the only way to ensure the continuation of our profession.  It is thus almost an obligated passage for “old singers” but why not do it [teach] at my age if I am asked?  To be named professor of the famous Royal Academy of Music, so selective in its choices of students and of professors who are not normally asked before they are 60!  I see this title as both an honor and a confirmation. Q:  Who were your teachers?  And what did you learn from them? JC: I am the rebel of classical music.  I have not ever had a teacher “in the pocket,” never had a fixed relationship with any single Maestro.  I always went to drink directly to the fountain I needed, according to the needs of the moment and according to the level of authority which I saw in the professor. That is why, when I am asked for a masterclass, I always insist on working from pieces that come from my repertoire.  One can only pass on the real experiences acquired in a specific field.  Omniscience does not exist. Q:  We know your world success is not only as tenor but also as conductor. We notably remember the evening in Hamburg when you sang Canio after having directed Cavalleria …Recently, we have see you creating complete entertainment spectacles, like Comedia é finite or directing.  Do you seek to have a global, absolute vision of an opera? JC: First, just an aside about Comedia e finite:  there will soon be a non-commercial DVD sent to those who are interested, in particular showing the making of and the results of a different approach to the opera.  I do indeed believe this is the first time that a singer had directed himself on stage. That [being first] always creates a scandal in the opera world where some have stayed in the 1950s.  But in the movies certain great actors direct themselves as well!  This approach will be, for once, from somebody who knows what he speaks about, because he is used to dirtying his hands, to do what it necessary and not from an outsider who always knows better than anyone else... Next, I believe there is always a question of personality.  I have a very expansive personality.  That is obvious!  I have trouble being held within a cage…thus there is much to do!  Having said that, it is still a matter of making good things.  But until proven otherwise (and opinions are always welcome), I believe that I do not do so badly… Sometimes I am reproached for taking on too much, but this is how I like my life.  I still do photography and other things.  And when I return home, I mow the lawn before repainting the door…I accept all the points of view and criticism but I always repeat: “Live your life and I, I will live mine.” If someone does not like my work, then he shouldn’t come; those who like it, come!  Q:  Do you have limits?  Are you preparing to surprise us in years to come with the incursion into other repertories, in the German language for example? JC: Of course, everyone has limits.  I cannot do everything.  But before saying I cannot, I always try all the same!  I believe we live in an era of exaggerated specialization.  When you have to see a doctor, you are sent to a specialist in the right corner of the left eye!  And it is like this for everything - - it is necessary to find a little of the spirit of the Renaissance: mankind progresses by integrating diverse and varied disciplines. As for German, I acknowledge that here precisely is one of my limits!  I am often asked to sing in this language, given my voice type.  I have always answered not at this moment. I am afraid of this language, so foreign to my way of being and articulating.  I am afraid of being ridiculous by missing the words or even more the accentuation.  The public has, fortunately but also regrettably, become accustomed to a “Cura style,” to a certain interpretive level on my part, and I do not want to fall below this level!  We cannot be the best everywhere, but if we begin to become less good than ourselves, it is the beginning of the end!   ..

 

 

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