Child Singers On The Rise, I: Elena House

Today, I wish to begin a new short series on Great Opera Singers, dedicated to current child singers whom I see as “on the rise,” which is to say either already established or in the process of becoming known, such as Elena House, the subject of today’s presentation.

One of the truly refreshing things about Elena is that she presents herself for exactly what she is—a 14-year old girl who is multi-talented and making her first tenuous steps into an extraordinarily demanding profession.  She is not yet a fully professional singer, although some of her performances equal what some young professionals do.  She is at a tender stage, both in her growth and her training.  She is being very wisely taught by a teacher who knows what he is doing and does not push her one little bit past what is prudent and appropriate for a young teenager.  Children of this age are all about growth and tender first steps.  I’m sure we have all heard the horror stories—promising children pushed too hard, too fast, in an attempt to sound older than they are.  Near-toddlers trying to sound like Marilyn Horne; exercises in self destruction.  Some astonishing artificial effects can be created in such cases, and they draw an instant curious attention.  However, what they are is vaudeville acts.  A few fast dollars, a few rave notices, and then oblivion.  This applies not only to child singers, but very young musicians of all kinds.  Elena’s voice is very light, with a certain attractive breathy quality—at least at the moment—but one where growth and potential are everywhere to be seen and heard. She is very light in the lower and middle register, which is appropriate, and then, with no strain whatsoever, can soar (as much as is appropriate for a 14 year old girl) and she suddenly lights up in the high register.  We will hear a fine example of that in the first video, where we see a hush grow into a very convincing high B natural at the end of her song. 

Her first presentation is a sultry femme fatale rendition of Giuditta’s aria “Meine Lippen Sie Küssen So Heiss.” Well, as fatale as a femme can be at 14, I suppose:)  Some might see this as a bit on the far side of propriety, but theatrically, I would say that it is justified by her exceptional beauty and marked acting ability.  She also moves with a dancer’s grace.  When I first saw this video I was reminded of words I wrote in this space when discussing the young ballerina Diana Vishneva and spoke of her “spunk and sparkle.”  Here is Elena House:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oofucOLKbmA&list=PLzy2PV7yy36sZdTL46JPtRQD18tSqraZ8&index=1

Talk about attractive!  I call your attention again to the perfectly in-line B natural and the sudden appearance of the potential coloratura sound at the end.  Not yet developed, obviously—she’s 14 for Heaven’s sake—but I hear what is on the path to development in another 4 years! And the acting and looks speak for themselves.  She captures the essence of the young seductress, both visually and vocally.  The breathiness will disappear on its own in a few more years.  Or, she may wish to cultivate it for pop music.  No law says she has to become an opera singer.  At the moment, there are many possibilities.  Here is an attractive rendition of “Think of Me,” from The Phantom of The Opera”, complete with her own little promotional ending, directed to an obviously very young audience.  Not only is it as cute as can be, but listening to her drives home  just exactly how young she is, and can make us appreciate even more the sophistication of some of the presentations for one so young.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0L1VL05opv0

That’s quite charming!  What calls my attention, again, is the ease with which the light, admittedly breathy low and middle registers blossom, with the first rise of the voice, into the legitimate sound characteristic of the transitional and upper register.  To my ear, this is proof positive that her teacher knows what he is doing.  All the vocal musculature is poised, ready to spring into action when called upon.  A little more age, a little more work, and a different voice is going to start to emerge, one that will be solid and well protected from harm, because not a bit of strain will have been introduced during the earliest preparatory years, where Elena currently finds herself.

Finally, a single operatic piece which will stylistically tolerate the light treatment which can be given by a child at this stage of her development.  I hear real potential here!  I can see this kind of repertoire coming on faster than one might think.  I call your attention especially to one passage and one note.  Check out the phrase leading to the A natural, starting somewhere around 2:20, when she stands up and the music swells.  All of a sudden, at that point in particular, I hear an older girl, and the beginnings of vocal drama, and this is where I hear the genuine operatic potential.  Here is “Poveri Fiori.”:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBpBrZ8XxZ4

This is a talent that bears watching closely over the next several years.  We need to remember that children grow up, and that every great singer was once a child!    Miss Elena House!

 

[Positive, constructive or informational comments may be accepted, at my personal discretion.  Please be understanding if any particular comment, however well intended, is not published.  I have very strict standards where children are concerned, both as a critic and a parent!]

 

 

 

The Great Dorothy Kirsten

Dorothy Kirsten was born into a musical family in Montclair, N.J., in 1910. Her mother was an organist and music teacher and  her grandfather was a conductor, so it is not surprising that young Dorothy was drawn to music and acting early in life.  It was not opera, but popular music that attracted her at the beginning.  Her life was one almost exclusively dedicated to music from the beginning, as she left high school at 16. (Not as drastic a thing then, however, as it would be now.)  She took ordinary jobs for a while, trying to save enough money to take voice lessons, and eventually did work for her vocal teacher in exchange for free lessons.  She was showing the spunk and determination at a young age which are such important motivating factors in the successful artist. However, she did not set her sights on an operatic career until she had achieved some modest success as a popular singer.

By the late ‘thirties, she was singing professionally on radio, both as a member of the Kate Smith Chorus and in her own solo spots.  Grace Moore heard her on the radio in 1938 and became her mentor and benefactor, sending her to Rome for a year of study with Astolfo Pescia, who was Beniamino Gigli's vocal coach. She had to return to New York, however, at the beginning of WWII.

 She did a concert at the 1939 World’s Fair in New York, and soon reunited with Grace Moore, who helped arrange a debut for her at the Chicago Grand Opera, where Dorothy made her operatic debut as Pousette in Massenet's Manon in 1940. She went on to sing 15 small roles during her first season and the following year shared the stage with Grace Moore in a Chicago performance of La Bohème, singing Musetta to Moore's Mimi.

By 1942, Kirsten was singing leading roles in opera, including the San Francisco Opera, and had launched her own radio program, "Keepsakes," which ran for a year.

She was not an instant operatic success story.  She paid her dues the old fashioned way, with a lot of hard work, concerts, smaller (but serious) opera companies, and radio work.  Little by little, she made the acquaintance of famous singers and many conductors and directors, until, in 1945,  she made her Metropolitan Opera debut as Mimi in La Bohème.  Four years later, she recorded Manon Lescaut with Jussi Björling, and she had by then pretty well made it.

Kirsten was to sing primarily in America, making the Metropolitan Opera her artistic home, for almost 30 years!  She sang abroad on occasion, but she was solidly planted here, as she was an American artist through and through,  maintaining a long-lasting relationship with her popular work, such as singing on the radio with popular entertainers such as Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Nelson Eddy and Perry Como. She appeared in two films, Mr. Music (1950) and The Great Caruso (1951). Her last performance at the Met was in 1979 as Tosca, at the somewhat astonishing age of 69!  An American success story if ever there was one.

I have heard many compare Dorothy Kirsten’s voice to that of Renata Tebaldi, and it is not a bad comparison.  She could sing dramatic roles, such as Tosca, but the voice never lost a natural freshness and youthful sound, which is almost certainly one of the reasons she was able to sing for so many years.  She was very well trained, and had learned to take care of her voice singing in so many popular venues.  Here is “Vissi d’Arte,” from Tosca, one of her better known roles:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZbfXqVYUrw

I do not know her age at the time of this telecast, but she was clearly a middle-aged woman, yet her voice is light, and has the sound of youth about it.  Yet, as I say, there is drama in the voice and that is a result of musicality, style, and—not a small thing—excellent stage Italian.  Also, she was a remarkably pretty woman, something very much in evidence in her youth.  Here is “Summertime,” from Porgy and Bess:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fv42aolI3oE

You can see what I mean!  A very beautiful woman, and her switch-over to Broadway style is perfect.  What enunciation!  Not many opera singers are willing to sing “and your ma is good lookiNN,” laying on—and actually singing—that nasalized N. She does it though, and the extreme longevity of her voice is good evidence  that it didn’t hurt her a bit.  What it does do is make the sentence perfectly understandable.  English is a tough language to sing in the theater, largely because of those harsh nasal sounds.  But it can be done.  And she did it!

And finally, an aria done beautifully, and in a repertoire that is perfect for Kirsten.  Here is “In quelle trine morbide,” form Manon Lescaut:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNIi8DDdEB4

As I pointed out in the description part of that video, that is the kind of repertoire in which she excelled, and in which extreme longevity is possible.  She displayed great intelligence, all her life, in how she took care of herself and her voice:  Popular music, lighter (near ingénue) operatic repertoire, and the intelligent mix of French and English into the always more common Italian.  I will again, however, in that regard, reiterate that her Italian is excellent, and very cultured.  All in all, a superb American singer, and a fine model for English-speaking American sopranos to study very, very carefully!

 

 

 

Monserrat Caballe: One Of The Greatest Voices Of The 20th Century

I have to say, up front, that any attempt at objectivity on my part, when writing of Monserrat Caballé, would be futile. We are dealing with a realm of greatness here that is rare, and—as in the case of Zinka Milanov, it is hard to know where to begin.   Probably with at least a little background.

Monserrat Caballé was born in Barcelona, in 1933, and studied at the Liceu Conservatory, graduating with honors in 1954. Her professional debut was in Basel, Switzerland, as Mimi in 1956.  She spent the next two years at the Basel Opera—with some outside appearances in Germany—doing mainly lyric roles, appropriate for her age.  She was only 23 at the time of her debut.  Returning to Barcelona in 1962, she began to expand her repertoire a bit, taking on the somewhat bigger role of Arabella, having done a Salomé earlier in Germany.  A tour a Mexico followed, but  Caballé was to wait until 1965 before her first international breakthrough in New York’s Carnegie Hall, where she substituted for Marilyn Horne in a concertized version of Lucrezia Borgia.  She was a great success, and the rise from that point on was near-meteoric.  After a Glyndebourne Rosenkavalier, it was only a short while before her Met debut in 1965, in Faust, and then to the Philadelphia Lyric in Andrea Chenier, then to the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino in Trovatore and Bellini’s Il Pirata.

From then on, her fame was considerable, and it was on to the big roles.  Her repertoire came to include Otello, Norma, Un Ballo, Don Carlo, and a good number of older operas form the period of High Romanticism, in which she was particularly successful. The career from that point on was huge, and can be consulted in any of a series of on line biographies.  Suffice it say that it has been a career so illustrious that few can match it!  She has received many awards and honors, from many countries.

That Caballé possessed one of the greatest of voices is simply beyond question.  What can be discussed, however, are the quality and development of that voice. I have had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of a gentleman whose knowledge of opera in general, and of great singers in particular (many of whom he has known personally) is truly extraordinary.  I mentioned to him recently that I was going to write about Caballé, and he offered to research for me the critical comments that greeted her in America, first at her Met debut, and then in later performances.  What he found was most interesting and pertinent.  Caballe’s voice was not immediately seen, nor was it particularly ever seen, as simply a huge voice. It is not really a huge voice.  It is certainly big enough, but it is more a question of quality, production, and exemplary technique, all joined to give that impression.

 Her first roles were lyric roles, as I mentioned at the beginning.  At her Met debut, she received a good enough review for her work in Faust, but the critics said it was not her best role. However, they praised her “gleaming” high notes which could easily be heard in the house.  In 1967 she did an Otello, but the critic felt that her voice was too small for the role.  It could of course simply be the case that she was developing slowly and carefully, an opinion to which I personally hold.  She certainly is a very intelligent and well trained singer, who, in a word, has always known exactly what she was doing.  Later, in 1972, at a Met Gala, she got a really fine review for her Manon Lescaut duet with Plácido Domingo.  Later, she finally found the extraordinary reviews which have become fairly commonplace, starting with a terrific review for Norma.  This critical glance back at reviews is united by a common thread, and that is development!  I would say this is very important, even crucial to the understanding of the Caballé voice. Many thanks to my friend for this research!  Let us take a look at a role that goes back to the very beginning of her career; Mimí:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGY7QsippGk&list=PL10A05476AAFA23AB

This is, of course, simply beautiful, and even though this particular performance comes at a later moment in her career, the lovely young and lyric voice is very much in evidence.  It is not in any way “huge.”  That is an illusion, primarily, based on perfect placement, ringing clarity, and a remarkable ease of production.  No stress, no strain, as easy as speaking, and it can be heard everywhere.

The voice did of course develop somewhat in color and intensity over time, and she soon was being heard in big, big roles, and the impression of size and power was always there, but again, there is more of perfect placement and superb technique to thank than any Nilsson-type size.  Caballé began to take on some old and unusual operas which contained showpiece arias that proved perfect vehicles for her particular voice.  Here is a spectacular “Non fu sogno,” from Verdi’s I Lombardi:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZjfNfsHmoVM

Now, isn’t that something! Again, the impression is huge, but it’s not that the voice per se has changed so much from what it was at the beginning of the career. This is the Caballé of the huge impression, the extraordinary voice, the very operatic sound of the High Romanticism of the mid-19^th century.  What is truly amazing, at least to me, however, is that this wonderful soprano, at the very peak of her fame and full vocal maturity (to say the least, at age 63, when the following concert took place) can hold a huge audience spell-bound with some of the most beautiful, lyrical, sustained, elegant, dream-like music ever written, the astonishing “Willow, Willow,” from Otello:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-EzzkN1uPXs

The Great Monserrat Caballé!  I can hardly add more.

 

 

Marilyn Horne: One Of The Greatest Mezzos Of All Time

One of the pleasures of writing about singers such as Marilyn Horne is that one enjoys the freedom to make great claims.  I am not as a rule given to hyperbole, because in the fine arts, and entertainment generally, the proofs are lacking.  Having said that, I don’t think there can be much question about saying that Marilyn Horne is one of the greatest mezzo sopranos of all time.

Horne was born in Pennsylvania and grew up in California. She was musically gifted, and was involved in music, in one way or another, from her pre-teen years onward. She studied voice with William Vennard at the University of Southern California’s School of Music and attended master classes given by Lotte Lehmann. Horne is very American, as is her background. As a young woman she did all sorts of musical things, including film dubbing and background singing for TV sitcoms. She covered pop songs, and did minor character acting on TV.  Her big break came when she was discovered by Igor Stravinsky.  European appearances soon followed, starting in the mid-1950’s.  The 1960’s saw her return to the U.S., in San Francisco in Wozzeck. She soon teamed up with Joan Sutherland, and together they did an extensive series of bel canto opera seria concerts that attracted much attention.  It was back to Europe in 1964, with her Covent Garden debut as Marie in Wozzeck.  Then came La Scala, in Stavinsky’s Oedipus Rex, in 1969.  The Met debut was in 1970, in Norma, followed several years later by Le Prophète and Carmen.

From that time on, Horne became very famous, and sang extensively in all major venues, and to universal acclaim.  There was always a heavy emphasis in her repertoire on bel canto and opera seria works, which formed such a major part of her early concert work with Sutherland.  There is, additionally, an entire repertoire of modern and modern American music which we have not the time or space to mention here. There is no need to belabor a biography so easily consulted.  Let us move, therefore,  to the singer and her artistry.

One of the truly outstanding features of Horne’s singing is her absolute mastery of technique, manifested primarily in  the great flexibility of her voice  All those years dedicated to the bel canto repertoire would not have been possible without the perfect control and support required to sing this music.  Her technique can be seen at work in this aria, the coloratura classic “Bel Raggio Lusinghier,” from Rossini’s Semiramide:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8s7k2ydKVhw&list=PLC5BA30C006848F4B

And this from a mezzo-soprano!  The extreme flexibility of the voice is evident, as are the registers and the range.  One cannot say that this is simply a soprano with some low notes.  Not the case!  This is a legitimate mezzo, with a firm control over vocal quality, flexibility and extension.  This is why she sings so well, on the very thinnest edges of the cords, never leaning on the thicker vocal cords, thereby avoiding the “huskiness” so apparent in the lower registers of many singers. She can control volume, crescendo/decrescendo, and fioratura.

All this does not mean that she could not or would not sing the bigger dramatic roles characteristic of Verdi or Puccini.  Listen to her “Stride La Vampa:”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDT4rct_n1A&list=PLC5BA30C006848F4B

How about that!  It’s a perfect example of what I am talking about.  Did you notice all the trills at the beginning of the aria? Flexibility.  The first leap into the upper register?  Darkness, volume, and crescendo.  The same could be said for the end of the aria.  Verdi all the way, but absolutely no vocal strain, pushing, or “woof” in the voice.  Pure, clean, immaculate singing.  This is the great Horne secret.  She is an absolute exemplar of perfect singing technique.  Any young woman who wants to sing mezzo could do no better than start by listening to Marilyn Horne—not to imitate, but to watch perfect technique in action.

Finally, the dramatic and lower voice, which is very exciting.  Here is “Ô Prêtres de Baal,” from Meyerbeer’s Le Prophete:” [The aria is long, but even listening to a few minutes of the beginning will make the point!]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYymLC_HwMc&list=PLC5BA30C006848F4B

What more can one say!  I will end as I began:  “One of the greatest mezzo-sopranos of all time.”

 

 

Ballet Break II: Diana Vishneva

Diana Vishneva  (Vishnëva, pronounced Vishnyova) was born in  St. Petersburg  in1976  and was trained at the famous  Vaganova Ballet Academy.  Many consider her to be the greatest ballet dancer currently performing, and indeed one of the greatest of all time. One of the most commonly cited facts about Vishneva is that while she was a student  she accumulated the highest marks ever given in the history of the academy.  She was as near a perfect student as it is possible to imagine. She won the 1994 Prix de Lausanne—an astonishing feat as the gold medal had gone for a considerable time almost exclusively to male dancers.  Her talent, however, was so extraordinary that it simply could not be  ignored or passed over.  Never.  She graduated from the academy the following year and was immediately hired by the Mariinsky, where she became a principle dancer the following year.  The speed of this rise strains credulity, especially in Russia, where much is demanded of  dancers and such rapid ascension is almost unheard of.

 She quickly became known in all the major theaters and festivals, and was a world sensation in very short order.  She currently is a principle dancer both at the Mariinsky and also—and this is historically unknown—at the American Ballet Theater.  She was named several years ago by President Putin as People’s Artist of  Russia.  She is famous, so  her biography is well known and easily consulted.

First, I think it’s important to look at the young Vishneva, because the talent was so great even then that it was clear she was headed for the big time.  Here she is at 17, in a presentation built around music from Bizet’s Carmen:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YbFOMqXiPn0

It is hard not to find oneself  smiling from ear to ear when she takes her bow!  The technical command is astonishing for a girl of 17, but even more amazing is the mental and emotional grip she has on the characterization.  In writing on another occasion about this scene, I used the terms “spunk” and “sparkle.”  She captures the qualities of seductiveness and self-confidence in a way that is quite advanced for her relatively tender age.  She is at this point still a student, but all the signs of mastery are present.

It is illustrative to watch her, later, in a reheaersal and class, where we get a clear sense of her energy and her positive attitude about learning. She is having a lot of fun here, as she manages to inadvertently kick off a warm-up pad from her leg, and then begin, more seriously,  to listen very carefully to instruction, catching on almost immediately to what the instructor is asking for.  Then, briefly, we have a chance to see her rehearsing with Manuel Legris, at that time principal dancer with the Paris Opera:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vx0Sk3w4ZDw:

Isn’t that charming!  Additionally, and more importantly, of course, it is illustrative of how quickly she catches on, how exactly she understands, and how seriously she rehearses.  A very quick study, and an exemplary attitude!

Here is a fascinating clip of Diana early in her career, at the age of 20, in a pas de deux written by Tchaikovsky as a late addition to Swan Lake, one that is almost never performed.  Here is a chance to see Vishneva , still very young, demonstrating her absolute understanding and control of classical technique.  It is an immaculate execution:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-u98pKXgB4

That is so lovely!  The way she carries herself is exemplary, from the port-de-bras to the ram-rod straight posture, she is elegance in motion.

Even though her classical technique is perfect, Diana’s ambitions have led her of late into much more modern  dance, including very new and experimental choreography. She has become something of a spokesperson for aggressive development and experimentation, something she feels is necessary  if ballet is to remain a vital and thriving art form.  No one is talking about giving up Swan Lake, The Nutcracker or Bayadere, but all repertoire begins to pale after a while.  The trick is to keep the development  within the parameters of  ballet basics.  One does not want to go the direction of operatic stage direction quirkiness which has become common of late, often, sadly, to the detriment of the form.  (Even Sir Kenneth MacMillan gave up on that idea for ballet after a while!)  Here is a fine example of what Vishneva spends a serious amount of time doing these days, along with the classical repertoire:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2h2fdZ6XpR8

I note, with great interest, that this video has close to half a million hit on it!  One suspects very strongly that the brilliant little girl who stunned everyone, and the fully adult woman who continues to do the same, actually has a very good idea of what she is doing, and why!

Gender Specific Voice Differences

 It is my pleasure today to introduce another in our series of distinguished guest commentators.

In his youth, Dr. Stephen Westmoreland’s favorite hobby was music.  He studied piano and voice, performing in a number of contests.  He gained  recognition and won various awards and scholarships to summer music programs.  He studied with concert pianist Lilli Kelleti and had the honor of playing for the eminent Hungarian pianist and composer Ernst von Dohnányi.  His university studies were both in the U.K. and the U.S.  After several years teaching, he opened  a private behavioral health clinic and was Program Director.  During this time, he maintained his interest in classical music and conducted research on Baroque vocal music and the male high voice, giving lectures on the subject.  His information has been utilized by various music professors and an opera company.  Now retired, he is able to devote more time to his musical interest.   He has continued his research, discussed the human singing voice with various singers such as male sopranos, sopranists, and countertenors, and shared many examples of exceptionally fine voices on his YouTube channel. It is a great pleasure to have such a distinguished authority.

 

 

In this short presentation, I suggest to the reader to reconsider any potential decision to lump together high-tessitura female and male voices as being about the same.  I hear and read this comment from time to time. 

Although I enjoy and have studied a wide spectrum of music, my preferred specialty for several years has been Baroque vocal music.  Over the last generation or two, singers, directors, and audiences gradually have shown an increased interest in the vocal works written for castrati.  Because the era of castrati is long gone, a frequent solution has been to cast such roles with women.  These efforts continue to be met with relative success or failure depending upon the quality of the voices and the training of the singers.Not surprisingly, the casual listener conveniently equates high voices with female and low voices with male.  If, for example, a male sings with a high tessitura, whether naturally or with falsetto, some listeners fail to analyze what they hear beyond their simple conclusion.  I recall during one of my lectures, a music professor and Julliard graduate exclaimed, “Why, he sounds just like a woman!”  One irritated response was, “No, he does not!”  I suggest that there are two major factors in one’s ability to discern male voices from female voices other than tessitura: musical experience and innate musical sensitivity. 

 

Other than through musical education and experience, the degree to which a listener is able to discern the difference between male and female singers also is determined by a genetic secondary-intelligence keyed toward musical perception.  Each of us possesses a variety of secondary intelligences, but to varying degrees.  This factor contributes to our uniqueness.  I have friends who are classical-music lovers and who have listened to the Met for many years but who admit to not being able to perceive the differences between voices of the same tessitura, or for that matter, any musical nuance.  One states that, to her, music is an unfathomable foreign language.  There are others of us, however, who have a very acute hearing and the ability to perceive fine nuances in sound.  I, for example, have surprised myself by hearing radio broadcasts of piano recitals and identifying the brand of the piano, such as Steinway, Baldwin, Bechstein, or Bösendorfer (the one I chose for myself because of its sound and touch.)   

 Yes, it is true that we also are aware that vocal timbre varies somewhat from individual to individual singer because of variations in physical structure as well as vocal training.  As a consequence, a few female voices, such a Maria Cristina Kiehr, may sound somewhat more “masculine,” and a male singer, such as natural male soprano Radu Marian, may sound somewhat more “feminine,” not exclusively because of his high tessitura, but also because of his timbre.  Regardless, the acute listener will detect general differences between male and female voices.  Recent studies, such as those by Christine Mecke and Johann Sundberg, have revealed that such differences exist even among young boys and girls, despite the fact that most people do not stop to consider the question because all children have undeveloped voices.  The history of boys choirs stems not exclusively from mere tradition or religious doctrine.  A generally unified sound results from boys’ choirs or girls’ choirs, but less so from mixed.   The sounds produced are discernibly different, even at an early age.  Such differences increase significantly as boys and girls approach puberty.  As a boy soprano grows, the sound of his voice changes, and not only from the beginning of the effect upon the physical voice-structure itself.  A larger body, larger chest and breath capacity, larger head, larger jaw and mouth, and larger resonating chambers, result in a fuller, richer, stronger sound.  Also as the voice begins to change, the deeper notes begin to take on a somewhat heavier sound, whereas the top notes have more force.  The boy may be singing soprano; however, the voice does not resemble that of a girl.

When it comes to the question of how best to cast male roles in Baroque operas or for other similar works such as oratorios, motets, and cantate, a male sound is preferable if possible to acquire.  With the relatively recent rediscovery and renewal of interest in Baroque vocal music, such considerations are important, especially considering that 80% of operas were written before the year 1800, and 70% of the roles were for alto or soprano castrati.  Of course, we no longer are producing artificially more than 4,000 potential singers per year, as was the custom during the Baroque golden age.  We have only a handful of natural male sopranos and altos whose voices result from a variety of causes, such as Kallmann’s Syndrome.  The music world has developed, however, improved methods of training the growing number of singers who choose to be countertenors. 

 As a  fortunate consequence, adult men who sing high tessitura (be they natural male altos or sopranos, countertenors, or sopranists), who have been trained in the Baroque style, will sing with a noticeably male timbre, power, and breath capacity.  Then there is the additional advantage with on-stage performances where the physical appearance of men playing men’s roles may be preferable.  With the growing number of countertenors, I have heard some superb singers, many average ones, and a few unfortunate ones.  Despite the fact that producing and financing Baroque operas is difficult and often avoided, the best countertenors can not fill all the roles available.  If carefully chosen, a female singer can do well.  One director told me that he had attempted to hire a rare male soprano for a lead role, but he was already booked-up.  The director then offered the role to a countertenor who had sung the role before; however, he found the tessitura too high for comfort.  The director then was fortunate enough to find a female singer whose voice and acting, as well as her understanding of Baroque opera, were so successful that the director hired her two years later for the role of Rinaldo.  Despite her not having a truly male timbre, she was good enough for my suspension of disbelief to be relatively easy.  I do wonder, however, how much more fascinating the performances would have been with the male soprano.  I have heard him live before.   His soprano tessitura does have a male timbre, and his masculine form on stage works well. 

 

 

Farinelli: The Great Castrato

 

The great castrato Farinelli, one of the most famous opera singers of all time, was born Carlo Broschi, in 1705, in present day Apulia.  His family was aristocratic and well to do.  Further, they were largely a family of musicians.  Farinelli's social class and "connectedness," therefore, were an important factor in a great career.  The social and economic realities of the day did not at all favor those of the lower strata of society as far as any kind of musical career was concerned, or for that matter any kind of career at all. Society at that time was still largely medieval in its structure, which is to say a tri-part division into clergy, aristocracy, and laborers.  While exceptional talent did make it possible for some promising artists to rise above their birth, it was rare.  This is important to bear in mind in Farinelli's case, because the whole vexed issue of castration has cast something like a pall of titillation, awe, and, to be blunt, just plain silliness over the biography of this great artist, whose success owed essentially to fortuitous birth, remarkable talent, early inspiration from a musically gifted family, and social and political connections.  There were  many castrati; most had only slight talent.  In discussing such singers, one needs always to be guided by a sense of dignity and decorum, and to hold rigorously to the sensible and the obvious.

Little Carlo, who was precocious, demonstrated real talent for singing at a young age, and was introduced in 1715, when he was a mere 10 years of age, to the famous teacher Nicola Porpora, who had important connections in Naples. The major turning point in young Carlo's life came unexpectedly in 1717 when his father Salvatore Broschi died unexpectedly.  Largely because of potential economic problems for the family— and probably great talent on the part of Carlo— his family (likely his older brother Riccardo) made the essential decision that was to determine 12-year old Carlo's future life.  While it might be tempting to want to blame his family for so drastic a decision, one needs also to remember that it made possible his extraordinary achievement, which is recognized even today, over 200 years later. 

Progress was rapid, as the talent was great, and the young singer made his debut three years later, at age 15.  Success was near instantaneous,  and the boy undertook the portrayal of many roles, often female.  To come to a quick biographical close, Carlo Broschi rose to became the most famous singer in Europe, and was written about, painted, adulated and generally admired by a huge audience.  He became wealthy.  It was a stunning success story that is still celebrated today. His biography is very easily found, and there is a fairly recent movie that  dramatizes (and sensationalizes) his life and career. 

So, the question becomes, what did he sound like?  And that is tricky indeed.  He was often painted, and very well, so we know what he looked like.  He was quite tall; that was demonstrated by a fairly recent disinterment.  Male growth in the absence of testosterone tends to exaggerated skeletal development.  In his case, this meant height and lung over-development, and, likely, the effecting of some laryngeal structures.  People of his day often mentioned  his ability to sing very long phrases at considerable volume.  Music that was written for him indicates that he had the ability to sing very florid and complex musical lines.  Let me try to give some idea, according to my own modest understanding, of what the voice might have sounded like, and why.  This is simple and short, and merely suggestive, as I have not the expertise to go on at any length on this highly specialized subject.

We can hear what one castrato sounded like by listening for a moment to the only castrato who was ever (knowingly) recorded, Alessandro Moreschi.  He was not a talented singer; in fact, he was a poor singer.  But we can at least hear what one known castrato sounded like:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M07Qga3LbcM

This makes the point fairly clearly that once we dispense with all other matters, it all comes down to artistry, talent and musicianship; exactly the same factors that determine what constitutes a fine singer today.  The fact that he was a castrato is essentially irrelevant.  This is not the sound or the singing that would inspire one to lay down his or her hard-earned  money for a concert ticket.   So why was it ever recorded?  Well, because he was a castrato.  I stress this for one reason only:  de-mystification.

There are some modern singers who probably come close to being a natural castrato—although the word "castrato" would be not be appropriate.  I speak of those males who because of one endocrinologic disorder or another never produced testosterone.  Such a singer, it is said, is the male soprano Radu Marian.  In his case, we move to a man who is a gifted soprano; very musical, well educated, and with what I feel safe in calling a lovely voice.  This may move us significantly closer to the goal of discovering the "authentic" castrato voice:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOoy17PPHRI

Now that, to my way of thinking, is a legitimate  voice, and a very beautiful one at that.  This is the kind of voice that one would pay to listen to, and people in fact do. It is not based on falsetto.  This is Radu Marian's real voice.  He normally speaks in the high "female" register.  Marian is enjoying a respectable career, and has earned the respect of serious musicians.  The beauty of his voice is also spoken of and appreciated.  I will go to bat, as it were, for this voice.  Of the increasingly larger number of male sopranos and altos singing today, Marian is my own personal favorite.  This is a fine voice, very beautiful, and authentically soprano.  The last note in "Lascia ch'io pianga" is a soprano B natural, and it is well within his range.

But there is another way to approach trying to imagine an 18^th-century castrato voice, and that is through a female singer.  It is, after all, largely a "female" sound that we are dealing with here, even if hypothetically.  What about an intense, powerful, flexible female voice, essentially soprano, but with a kind of heft that at least suggests, albeit slightly, another kind of almost-male voice?  How about Ann Hallenberg?  I freely admit that this is not my idea, although I agree with it.  It was suggested to me by a gentleman I have come to respect as probably the ultimate authority on this subject.  Here she is, in suggestive garb, singing a song that was actually written for Farinelli by his own brother.  (It is the first song she sings, "Son qual Nave..." ) Clearly, she is trying to give a "Farinelli impression," evidence that the potential for comparison  has occurred both to her and to others.  If you close your eyes as you listen, I think you may hear it—I believe I do:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGcQ3IyaJy4

Isn't that something!   The fact that she is singing a song written for the great castrato by his own brother, who certainly knew his abilities,  gives us an excellent idea of what he was capable of.  I can do no more than suggest that there is a significant likelihood  of  this being reasonably close to the Farinelli sound!

I WOULD URGE ALL READERS INTERESTED IN THE SUBJECT OF FARINELLI TO SUBSCRIBE TO THE FOLLOWING  YOUTUBE CHANNEL:

http://www.youtube.com/user/sfkcbf?feature=mhum


THE GENTLEMAN WHO OPERATES THIS SITE IS ONE OF THE FOREMOST AUTHORITIES ON THE SUBJECT OF FARINELLI AND CASTRATI IN GENERAL.  THANK YOU,  Edmund St.Austell