We often hear about singers who should not sing a role because it is not advisable for his or her voice: lyric voices in dramatic roles, mezzos in sopranos roles, singers unprepared for the technical demands of a certain role (e.g., coloratura). That is not what I want to write about today. As much as when we read a book and imagine how a character looks like, audiences expect a certain color in the voice of a singer in a particular role, a voix du rôle. This might not be true for all parts in the repertoire – the title role in Carmen, for instance, is often mentioned as a part that could be sung by all kinds of female voices. So one may wonder if there is something like a specific sound for a role at all. I mean, do composers expect to hear a specific sound as much as when they write “oboe” on a score and intend to hear an oboe, neither a clarinet nor a flute?
As everything in opera, there is no simple answer. We know that some composers did write for specific voices, most of them not really because they made a point on hearing that singer – they just knew that this particular singer was going to sing what he was writing. That would be the case of someone like Handel or Mozart. They could not risk writing something that would not fit the voice of the singer cast in that run of performances – this would have had financial consequences, to start with. They depended on the success not only of their writing, but most often than not on the success of the performance of what they wrote. That is why they would often adapt the part for a new run with a different cast. Of course, sometimes they had just the singer they imagined the part for. Sometimes, this singer’s abilities would even influence what they were writing. For instance, the aria Ach, ich liebte in Der Entführung aus dem Serail. Mozart admits he had to write something so impossibly florid for Caterina Cavalieri, because everybody (he included) wanted to hear the sounds produced by her “flexible throat”.
In any case, without being scientific about it, I would say that what establishes the “sound” of a role is rather the audience than the composer. Certain singers are so successful in a role that everybody just wants it sung like that. This is particularly true after the creation of phonography. Before that, theatres would generally have their ensembles with favorite singers tackling all kinds of parts with the occasional visit of a famous diva. For instance – and this was way after the invention of LPs – when Renata Tebaldi gave a guest performance as Desdemona at the Deutsche Oper Berlin, all reviews were astounded that a lyric voice could be so big. They were used to hear more “Mozartian” voices in the role before that, probably because this is the kind of lyric soprano a German theatre would have in their roster those days. Anyway, recordings and reviewers probably share the responsibility of convincing the audience that this is the sound they should hear. With standards set “on stone”, criterion for casting became increasingly more “objective”. For instance, anyone with a voice similar to Tebaldi’s or Callas’s could claim one of their parts under the epithet “the new Tebaldi” or “the new Callas” – and audiences would be curious to hear.
For instance, the first singer to appear in the role of the Feldmarschallin in Der Rosenkavalier was Margarethe Siems, whose voice and interpretation style couldn’t be more different from Elisabeth Schwarzkopf’s, the singer referred to as “standard” for the part for a couple of decades. Siems was something of a soprano assoluta, who sang roles like Isolde, Lucia, Carmen and even Zerbinetta in the première of the original version of Ariadne auf Naxos. As we can sample in her recordings, she was extremely direct in her interpretation, what makes her curiously “modern” to our contemporary ears. Schwarzkopf was a purely lyric soprano with a fleece-like tone whose performances are the specimen shown to anyone interested in understanding what “mannered” means. But maybe because of Paul Czinner’s film, maybe because she looked the part and sang it everywhere, maybe because of Karajan’s LPs with Christa Ludwig, she – and not Lisa della Casa nor Marianne Schech – was the model for everyone who thought of singing the role in the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s. You just need to hear Evelyn Lear or Claire Watson as the Feldmarschallin to realize that.
That is why I – and I am not alone here – am always curious for a voice that challenges established opinion of how the role should sound. For instance, Jessye Norman. Her voice was so “outside the box” that one could not resist the possibility of hearing it in a particular role. My first complete opera recording with Norman was – believe it or not – Haydn’s La Vera Costanza. There she takes the role of Rosina, a poor girl with whom a hothead count falls in love with and secretly marries. During most of the opera, Rosina is the odd woman out among aristocrats – and Norman’s smoky soprano made that “hearable” to me. She sounds different from everyone else in that cast, there is some fascination in that big voice kept at its lightest, a fascination those stuffy ladies and gentlemen cannot really comprehend. In spite of her uniqueness, Norman would even later establish a “golden” standard in the title role in Richard Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos, but her Elsa will always be controversial. I am particularly fond of Norman in Wagner lighter roles – I cherish her Elisabeth recorded live in London and the video from the Avery Fisher Hall of her Senta’s Ballad remains my favorite rendition of that aria. And, yes, I really like her Elsa – and how she shows the character under an entirely different light.
I have friends who cannot bear to watch Lohengrin because the role of Elsa exasperates them with her dreamy silliness. I myself have never seen Elsa like that – and Norman is the singer who showed me what I already suspected. When she first appears, there is no “little woman” there. It is a regal, full-grown woman voice. She is above everyone else there – and indeed she is, she is the heiress of the country’s ruler. She refuses to reply to those below her, she speaks to God only. Her champion has to be someone sent by heaven, and by heaven only. And, well, she’s right – special effects, high pianissimo in the violins, swan carrying a fellow with a sword – a miracle proves that she is indeed unlike everyone else. And we’ll soon discover what is the character’s undoing: her proudness. This Elsa can risk anything but mésalliance. Ortrud doesn’t need any particular witchcraft to destroy her peace of mind. She just asks – do you really know if the nameless guy is an aristocrat? As we have read in the Bible, most of God’s chosen ones are not. Jessye Norman makes it a grand tragedy – how could she put a commoner, special as he might be, in her father’s place as the ruler of her own land? This would be subversive! True – it is not all in the sound of her voice, although it carries the chicness of her Elsa. Her whole approach has a splash of grand-dame-ness, and that just makes sense and also the story more interesting than what we are supposed to hear. I wonder what Wagner would find of Norman’s Elsa. I bet he would have liked what she does there. It seems some of Wagner friends thought that he was too hard on Elsa in the end of the story, but he insisted that those were the consequences of her acts and this is how the story should end. In other words, no innocent victim.
— Live audio & video bdcsts have largely replaced studio recordings that previously influenced our expectations — that has added even more complications (but also more opportunities). Not only do we have more choices (particularly via the internet) but also more chances to hear a given artist in different roles. You talk about Jessye Norman – much of her work was recorded and filmed. In those days I was attending live performances a great deal more than now — remember seeing her in New York & London from 1972 until 1991. She was indeed impressive onstage as Cassandre, Dido (Berlioz), Sieglinde, Elisabeth & Ariadne (from my stage memory). Those were the roles wherein her voice sounded truly majestic live in-house to me although I did hear her in other roles, too. Went to see her 1991 Met Kundry — a disappointment. Another instance of that traditional curse of casting Kundry with a singer past her prime. She sounded somewhat diminished vocally and the finale of Act 2 was unfortunate (don’t know how they managed it on the audio/video recording).
— Now, here’s another subject-question for you. An old acquaintance told me many years ago how corrupt the music business was then – but I didn’t notice it nor did it affect me or my interests at that time decades ago. Presently there is a great deal more transparency (intended or not) than there was in those earlier days. With the covid-19 crisis going on, downsizing & restructuring has brought even more details to light in the music business. For years promoters, publicists & managers have appeared [to me] to be spending a great deal of their resources on orchestrating public opinion. I remember singers (some of whom are still singing) that were praised & media-hyped by critics & operahouse publicists who never made the grade for me — not just on mediocre inherent physical vocal resources but also on the lack of basic musicianship.
Hello, Jerold!
Yes, broadcasts are today more relevant than studio recordings – and I’d file them in the same slot, “recordings”. I find that today’s scene is far fairer than it used to be in the past. The audience has means to discover artists by themselves and champion them through their endorsement. In the past, artists were more dependant on agents, publicists and impresarios to break through – and that led to the abuses you are referring to. That said, there will always be cliques, as in “conductor x is a friend of singer y and only wants to work with her/him”, even when there are more capable people around. This is human nature.
In any case, I don’t think that the “star system” really works for opera. It is very difficult for a singer to be above competition in more than…2 or 3 roles. That means – it’s healthier to have more people sharing roles, for it’s unlikely to find a situation like Nilsson’s Elektra, Callas’s Norma or Freni’s Mimi. I have very rarely regretted going to the theatre to see a new singer in a role. For instance, Anna Netrebko. I can say that she is probably the most satisfying singer in some of her roles today – definitely Leonora (Forza) and Aida. If she sang Tatyana today more regularly as she did in the past, I would add that one too. These are parts in which I’d probably say “I’d rather hear her a second or third time than try my luck”. But – judging from what I’ve heard – yes, it would be fun to hear her as Turandot or Elisabetta – but those are roles in which she, for all her amazing resources, still leaves room for the competition.
2 – Norman. Her voice was hard to frame, and I think it was brave of hers to “build” it the way she did. It required an amazing amount of energy and, with time, it came less readily to her and then she had no “safety mode” to operate within. In any case – and this is my intuition – I don’t think Norman ever had a dramatic voice. It was a big voice, no doubt about that. But the texture was always too soft for the dramatic repertoire (either mezzo or soprano). All the roles you mention do not require a dramatic voice at all. There have been lighter Kundrys – Yvonne Minton, for instance – but it is in principle a role for a dramatic voice (or at least a voice with a solid middle and some cutting edge in high notes). Norman had the solid middle by then. I have never seen her live in opera and know her Kundry only from the studio recording. Yes, even in the studio, she holds for dear life in the end of act 2. That’s said, most Kundrys – even the dramatic voiced – come to some grief there. She has the disadvantage of having to deal with James Levine’s almost static tempi too. I would never say it is a flawless performance – it isn’t, one can hear her fighting with the notes now and then – but I find it fascinating nonetheless. I don’t know why I say this – but I find that there is something French about it, the way she caresses the lines, the way she colors the text. On listening to Norman’s Kundry I felt curious to hear Crespin in the role (and, yes, Crespin is a better fit for Kundry in every aspect).
Your comments on Jessye Norman are enlightening. She was not just the possessor of one of the most beautiful voices ever born to a human being but she also possessed high intelligence and technical brilliance that spanned a wide repertoire, as you pointed out, from Gluck, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert to Berlioz and Wagner and through Mahler, the Viennese school and Janacek.
Type-casting flowed off her wings like water and people were and continue to be perplexed by her gifts.
Elsa, with Solti, was (is) her most controversial recording. But you have hit the nail on the head: Elsa is a princess of the Medieval school, any interaction with her by the “small folk” or lesser aristocracy was a violation, to her, of lesé majesté. We would call it elitist snobbery, but to her, and her society, it was totally understandable.
I have never bought into Elsa as a simpering neurotic, as in in the post-Freudian world we are stuck within.
Your perceptive insights have released a small but naggingly conflicted opinion I have held about Elsa AND Jessye Norman.
You Must write a book of essays on these erudite operatic things for the intellectually starved like me living in the middle of modern Western decay.
Thank you.
Hello, Jeffrey! Thank you very much for your comment. As you know, I had refrained from writing anything but reviews of vocal music performances and had doubts about trying something different. But COVID is here and I thought this could be a good opportunity – even if I feel a bit unsure when I press the “publish” button 🙂
Yes, Jessye Norman was unique and tried so many different things – and she always did things her way. And, yes, the Elsa. My first “serious” Lohengrin was the old Harry Kupfer production for the Berlin Staatsoper. To that day, I didn’t care much about Elsa – I loved the Kubelik recording and was happy enough hearing Gundula Janowitz sing there. The Berlin production was amazing – those sounds and images haunted me for a long while. Kupfer showed Elsa as a deranged woman who had indeed murdered her own brother. So Ortrud was basically right about everything she said. Lohengrin existed only in Elsa’s mind. There was always a different lighting for him – and he had one wing instead of an arm and was always on a pulpit or something like that. And if you pay attention to what Wagner wrote, we can hear that Elsa is not particularly caring or nice. She is entirely self-absorbed. In the scene with Ortrud, she is even obnoxious. It would be understandable if she decided not to talk at all with Ortrud at that point. But she stays. First there is this “Is it my fault that you’re a b/witch?” Then there is “God, what do I have to endure?” and then she realises that it would be unchristian of her not to show some mercy (again, it’s all about herself). But when she actually has to deal with Ortrud, it’s all “Oh, please spare me your tale of woe – let’s talk about the fabulous dress you’re wearing tomorrow”. And then she keeps repeating the bits of phrases the sound of which she enjoys – “vor Gott sein Eh’gemahl zu sein. Sein Eh’gemahl, do you hear me?” The only moment she isn’t putting an act is when Ortrud says “I know something you don’t”. There is this tremolo in the orchestra, Elsa desperately looks for some way to regain her composure and goes with “An unfortunate woman like you wouldn’t be able to fathom the marvellousness of my (one-day-old) relationship with the guy God gave me as a reward for my superiority”. When you hear Norman sing those phrases, you feel how she cared to study them and how she handles them. She does them “for real” – from Elsa’s point of view – but lets us see what a spoiled brat she really is! For instance, Allgüt’ger Gott, was soll mir das? You can almost hear her rolling her eyes there…
That is a spot-on analysis that makes me plan a Solti/Lohengrin evening tonight just to hear it with new ears. Too bad the rest of that cast is largely under-par. I love Plácido’s Verdi but not his German heroes…
I love Ortrud, she knows what she wants and doesn’t play coy and innocent like phony Elsa, who I now think is one of Wagner’s most psychopathic characters.
Where Elsa is dumb and vain, Ortrud is very smart and NOT vane.