Ovations for the Argentinian

 Rachmaninov, lyricism and energy

Liberta

15 December 2005

Eleonora Bagarotti

Cura, sparkling on the podium for the pianist virtuoso Albanese

 (Excerpts)

A work of vertical art, with drops of precious stones symbolizing both the water that characterizes the Po Valley landscape and the musical notes on the staff. —this was the ‘City of Piacenza-Guiseppi Verdi’ prize, designed by Guilio Manfredi and presented in the Municipal Theater by mayor Robert Reggi to tenor and conductor José Cura.  The mayor, opening the evening by presenting Cura with the prize in recognition of the Argentine’s numerous artistic talents, may also have dropped a hint of a scoop:  the possibility of a future collaboration with the artist, though no name, date, or place of the production was offered.

After the award ceremony, the graceful Galánta Dances by Zoltán Kodaly were performed, which, together with Bartok's Romanian Folk Dances, were inspired by the conviction that every authentically popular root is intrinsically mixed and is the result of progressive and constant developments and contributions. Kodaly composed the dances in 1933, based on a number of traditional melodies and, specifically, the distinctly soloistic traits of the gypsy style are taken on by the clarinet.

The orchestra of the Arturo Toscanini Foundation was conducted by Cura with a great deal of "stage art." more in keeping (but that's a matter of taste...) with his profession as a singer than as an orchestral conductor, although with a pleasant extroversion that received ovations from the Piacenza audience.

In the Rachmaninov Concerto no. 2 in C minor for piano and orchestra op. 18 some "heaviness" of orchestral sound covered, from time to time, the solo voice of the piano, played by a very young and talented Giuseppe Albanese. The famous work, enthralling, is an example of the cosmopolitan stylistic eclecticism of the Russian composer. The expressive density is inclined to a very external virtuosity. From this point of view, José Cura's grit and "hot blood" were in keeping with the original spirit of the score. 

Great energy was also present during the second half of the evening for the Symphony n. 2 in E minor op. 27 by the same composer.  Thanks to José Cura, the audience was able to experience sparkling conducting and the stage presence of a real and proper “personality.” The singer can boast, moreover, of a remarkable curriculum as a conductor, including a stint as principal guest conductor of the Sinfonia Varsovia and the release of several disks on the Cuibar Video Phono and Avie labels.  In Piacenza, where the maestro and pianist granted two encores, he received yet another confirmation (of his talent on the podium).

Thanks to Zsuzsanna for these photos

Exclusive interview with JOSÉ CURA

An Evening with José Cura

Elite Tours

Réjane Suttheimer

In mid-May 2006, heads of state and government from the European Union, Latin America and the Caribbean gathered in Vienna to discuss political and economic relations between the economic regions.  At the same time, non-governmental organizations met to present alternatives to official policy. In the midst of the tensions between the political summits, the Festival Onda Latina was held, at which one of Latin America's most famous artists, José Cura, was honored for his brilliant career and tireless support of young artists and talent.

Onda Latina and Elite Tours invited to this special of the duo Klaus Paier (bandoneón and accordion) & Gerhard Preinfalk (clarinet), two outstanding composers and musicians to the concert.  Afterwards José Cura offered a small musical contribution: Sonetos de Amor y Muerte, written by Nobel Prize winner Pablo Neruda and composed by Maestro Cura himself.  He was accompanied by the Italian pianist Speranza Scappucci.

A brief Tango Exhibition with Elizabeth and Christian from Buenos Aires ended the successful evening and then friends and fans of José Cura had had the chance to get the autograph from the star.

Réjane Suttheimer:   Dear Maestro Cura, I would first like to thank you for this interview.  It is a personal honor for me and our readers will be delighted!  Here is my first question:  Tomorrow you will sing Le villi at the State Opera and then the very next day you will conduct Madama Butterfly (also at the Opera House).  What is the difference for you between conducting Butterfly and singing in Butterfly? What kind of emotional difference does it make for you?

José Cura: On the emotional level, both are the same for me. When someone is emotional invested, whether as a conductor or as a singer, you give everything.

The difference lies in the responsibility. The singer first and foremost must be responsible for himself in his role and then to his colleagues. The responsibility of a conductor is exactly the opposite. He is responsible for everyone! It is simply the other way around, where the conductor is like a mediator, or if you prefer, like an electric fuse, a connection point. The opera conductor is the facilitator between the stage and the pit, because from the stage the singer can't see into the orchestra and the orchestra can't see onto the stage.  The only one who can see both is the conductor. He is the conduit, the mediator, between these two levels.  And, because of the enormous concentration and even more because of the enormous responsibility, this is very stressful and exhausting.

RS:  This is the first time you have conducted at the Vienna State Opera.  How has the experience been?

JC:  I have conducted Butterfly in the past but this is my first time in Vienna. It is a very delicate situation emotionally, because the conductor's podium in the Staatsoper pit is a very high pressure podium!  All the greats from Mahler to the present day have stood at this podium. Every time you stand there, you might say—well, at home you would say you have ants up your butt! (Laughs) Yes, it's a big responsibility!  But because of budget restrictions in the arts, it's become more difficult to get the proper number of rehearsals. You're always working on the edge because there are far too few rehearsals. [For Butterfly] I've managed to get only one and a half rehearsals. That means I’ve had a 3 hour rehearsal for a two and a half hour opera, and that includes a 25 min break in that rehearsal time! It is therefore not really a rehearsal at all but rather a quick run-through without much opportunity to correct anything. Of course, this increases the pressure immensely.

RS:  When you rehearse a new role as a singer, do you consult with anyone? Many singers work on new roles with their vocal teachers even after years of training.

JC: Actually, I should say yes now so that people don't think I’m arrogant. On the other hand, I don't want to lie. I haven't had a vocal coach for about 15 years. That was a personal decision.  I wanted to develop and keep my own style, my own form and simply avoid dependence! So I don't have a maestro.  I do, however, consult with all those I work with. When you work with great colleagues you can ask, for example, what do you think, how was that? Or even with a good conductor who can tell you, you know I don't like that so much. Through your own experiences, but especially when you work with good colleagues, in good houses and with good conductors, this leads to less uncertainty in your career than when you are dependent on a maestro.  But that's a matter of opinion, of course.

RS: Your profession naturally influences your private and family life. As you said before, you are on the road a lot. How do you and your wife deal with that?

JC: It is difficult but not impossible. It was more difficult 6-7 years ago, when my pay per performance was not as high as it is now so that even if I had 2 days off between one performance and the other, I couldn’t afford the luxury of getting on a plane and going back and forth between performances for such a short time. It’s much simpler now.  As soon as I have 2 days off, I get on the plane and go home especially since you can get anywhere within Europe in two to three hours.  So, actually not more than a week goes by without me being at home.

RS: What are your plans? Would you like to conduct and compose more than sing in the future? What do you have in mind?

JC: A little bit of everything, actually! I continue to have plans in all areas. At the end of this year, or the beginning of next year, my first book of photographs will come out. A Swiss publisher wanted the rights to publish it. I have been taking photographs for nearly 25 years. It actually started as a hobby and never developed into a profession but photography is like an outlet for me to be able to switch off professionally. Since I don’t devote myself to photography, how shall I say, in the commercial sense in that I don’t take portraits or try to make a living, I can devote myself to photography in the social sense. Mainly it is pictures about people, about human behavior from all over the world, from Japan to the United States. The publisher said something interesting to me: "I'm interested in these photos because through them you understand what's going on in the photographer's mind. And since you are who you are, it will give your followers and fans the opportunity to see the world through your eyes." I liked the way he said that, and now we're just about to do this book.

RS:  Apropos of critics, who is your harshest critic?  Your wife? Yourself?

JC:  (Laughs) Probably myself!  There is not a single performance at the end of which I can’t say nothing went wrong or I didn’t like something.  And all those who are around me will say:  "No, it was good, stay calm, everything will work out fine."

But those who are most ruthless with me, because they can afford it, are my relatives, my wife, my assistants, my secretary.  They say the things as they are.  And this is only right. Because if you are a recognized person, famous, loved or hated, than you run the danger of living in the clouds.

RS: I personally find that your voice has a very soft, warm and dark timbre, almost like that of a baritone. At least that's how it seemed to me in Trovatore 2002. I know many singers who started out as tenors and later made a change of subject to a baritone. Do you always feel comfortable in the high notes as well?

JC: Yes - and don't ask me for what reason, because I don't know. But strangely enough, over the years my voice has become darker and darker, much darker. You mentioned the Trovatore at Covent Garden from 2002. If you listen to my voice with the sonnets tonight, you'll notice that it's gotten even deeper in the meantime. I actually sound like a baritone, like a really deep baritone. But strangely enough, the deeper my voice gets, the easier I find to hit the highest notes! I don't know what's happening, I'm not complaining about it! Apparently, the ligaments have adapted optimally and have reached their peak. which would also fit with my age, because between 40 and 50 one has his vocal peak as a man. It is quite possible that later I will lose the high notes and end my career as a baritone. But at the moment I have the highest  notes I’ve ever had!

R-S:  And what are your projects as a singer in the near future? After all, some of your fans follow you halfway around the world to see and hear you!

JC: Oh, there are many!  I will open the season in Verona in the summer, in September I will be back in Vienna with Le Villi, in October I will be at the Metropolitan Opera with Tosca, then I have a whole series of performances in Zurich with Don Carlos before I return to Vienna. In January 2007 I have Pagliacci in Berlin, in February 2007 I have a tour in Germany with song recitals and in March/April of the coming year comes Stiffelio in London. It was a production that I was finished with but then they contacted me to ask if I would like to do it one last time. In September 2007 I will be in Barcelona again, with Andréa Chenier. Yes, and so I could continue to list this for you until the year 2011! (laughs)

RS: Finally, one last question. Opera is almost always about love and passion. How would you define love?

JC: A difficult question! I don't think you can define love. Anyone who one day is able to define love will be able to solve all the problems of mankind by doing so! (laughs) I don't think you can define love.  One can only celebrate it either with music or with words.

José Cura in Rijeka after Performing in the Verona Arena

Jutarnji

Branimir Pofuk

16 July 2006

[Excerpt]

In every abbreviated biography of José Cure, it is obligatory to point out that he was the first musician to both sing and conduct opera in the same evening.

It’s just one of those bombastic trivia bit ideal for marketing but irrelevant to music. Unlike famous singers and soloists who eventually want to be among the conductors at all costs, Cura is the opposite: he first became a conductor in his native Argentina and only later decided to use his second gift in front of the audience - beautiful and strong in a tenor voice.

To the uninitiated reader, it will seem sensational for someone to sing and conduct at the same time but of course such a thing did not happen.  On the evening of 2003 at the Hamburg State Opera, Cura first conducted a performance of Pietro Mascagni's Cavalleria rusticana and at the break, he left the conductor’s podium to sing the lead role in Ruggero Leoncavallo’s one-act opera, Pagliacci.  On the artistic side, a much more demanding endeavor is what Cura is doing this summer at the Verona Arena, on whose fascinating stage I watched him sing the lead male roles in both of these titles.

“These are two completely different characters and two, in fact, very different voices. Turiddu in Cavalleria is a young man of hot blood, and this role is usually sung by a "spinto" tenor, while Canio in the opera Pagliacci is an embittered, jealous man in his mature years, a character intended for dramatic tenor,” explained Cura in a conversation we had shortly before his departure to Rijeka (from Verona), where the first rehearsal for tonight's concert was waiting. He personally prefers that latter role and the voice, which has recently been praised by world critics in the role of Verdi's Otello, in any case lies better with Canio. The night before, encouraged by thousands of fans in the arena, Cura hinted at his own conducting vision of Pagliacci in the most famous aria from that work Vesti la giubba when he visibly tried to speed up the accompaniment of an otherwise great and very expressive orchestra conducted by young Chinese maestro Lü Jia.

Singing that shocking aria of a clown dressing for yet another performance while he has much bigger worries at the moment, Cura says he always has in mind how much his singing job is a bit clownish—and it is from this clownish component of the opera show business that he has been trying to escape. As a result, in 2000, he terminated all contracts with agents, managers and record companies. He was tired of being a clown, in this case, presented as an opera male sex symbol, a Latino-macho beauty. He was especially leery of the title "Tenor of the 21st Century.” That was why, he says, he was relieved when he heard the announcement for an opera gala concert during the last World Cup in which the title went to a new tenor star, Mexican Roland Villazon.

After founding his own production and management and record company, it took him three years to fight for his place on the world stage again, despite the attempts of those in management circles to derail his career. But nothing has changed. He was recently approached by a large record company but when they offered him proposals for new projects, says Cura, it was again the same rubbish he had run away from and it never occurred to him to accept.

“The laws of the market, not only in music but in everything else, today are such that something that is claimed to be a first-class wine is sold in a tetrapack, although it is clear to anyone who knows anything about it that such a product and packaging simply do not work together,” Cura explains pictorially.

As for the concert in Rijeka, he will be ready to do his best. However, as in any other similar occasion, he says a lot depends on the audience.  If they arrive with the attitude “we paid for the ticket, let’s see what you can do,” artists on stage don’t have a real incentive. However, when the good atmosphere of reciprocity between the audience and all the artists on stage coincides, he is ready to sing for hours.

The Magic Charm of a Famous Tenor

 Jutarnji List

18 July 2006

Branimir Pofuk

To all who ventured yesterday evening to windy Trsat it is now certainly clear how José Cura wins the hearts of audiences around the world. His charisma? Certainly. His beautiful and strong voice? Even more so. But above all, it is his complete absorption in the music that makes the characters he sings come alive.

We finally saw and heard the famous tenor in Croatia, a singer whose vocal skills are at their peak but also one who still with many years to reach his zenith.   Furthermore, we heard a very carefully chosen programme, without “O sole mio” and similar songs, which was still about to win over the audience.

Personally, I have never had such a deep opera experience as I did during this concert performance.  It is impossible to find on our opera stages such dramatic feeling, in both singing and acting, as the famous Argentinean was able to achieve on the 1.5 square meter of the Trsat stage, without the use of any stage props; his partner, equally moving, was Croatian mezzo-soprano Dubravka Separovic-Musovic.

The concert began with key moments from Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana. After the overture Cura appeared as Turiddu singing the “Siciliana,” which he sang, as is the custom in opera performances, from behind the stage. After that our mezzo-soprano sang Santuzza’s aria “Voi lo sapete, o mamma,” followed by the passionate duet as the lovers quarrel.  “Intermezzo” was then performed by the HNK opera orchestra, conducted by Nada Matoshevic, to complete the brief excursion into this one-act opera, which Cura has performed at Arena di Verona on Wednesday.

The concert then moved into the more dramatic repertoire: Cura introduced the very suggestive aria from Giordani’s opera Andrea Chenier, “Un di all’ azzurro spazio (Improvviso).”

The best moment of the first half of the evening came next.   As the orchestra played the Intermezzo from Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci Cura appeared, fully absorbed into the Canio’s character, crossing the stage with the heavy moves of a man affected by jealousy, bringing with him a chair on which he sang the touching “Recitar – Vesti la giubba.”

After the intermission Cura interpreted, one after the other, the two exceptional tenor arias from Puccini’s Tosca – the first from early in the opera and the next from its finale. Then excusing himself with “Scusi Padre Serafino” – directed to the cordial host – Cura took the baton to conduct, in front of the walls of the Trsat Franciscan cloister the orgiastic Bacchanal of Saint-Saens’ Samson and Dalila. Then the most magic moment of the night arrived.

Even as “Samson” remained on the podium, Dubravka Separovic-Musovic sang the charming love aria “Mon coeur…” to him and only him.  Then came the miracle moment of great artistic power and the magic of chemistry between singers, when Cura, at the end of the aria and while still conducting with his right hand, stroked her cheek with his left hand and replied to her with his singing.

With the same emotional intensity both singers entered into the main characters of Bizet’s Carmen. Such a seductive and vocally confident Carmen as offered by Dubravka Separovic-Musovic doesn’t exist on Croatian opera stages. Cura replied with Don Jose’s love aria “Flower song.” The last scene, after which we were left with the impression we had seen and heard the whole opera, brought us a finale with two strong personalities and two great singers.

Having charmingly communicated with the audience in Italian, Cura offered as his first encore a love song from his homeland, accompanied by only a harp, and finished the performance showcasing his magnificent heroic voice with the famous tenor aria “Nessun dorma” from Puccini’s Turandot that brought the audience from their chairs to their feet in a standing ovation.

An unforgettable concert by the star Argentinean tenor at Marijin Perivoj – Trsat

 Rijeka Summer Nights:  World’s Top Tenor

 Vecernji list

 Denis Derk

18 July 2006

Not only was Mani Gotovac successful in bringing the great opera superstar José Cura to “Rijecke ljetne noci”(Rijeka Summer Nights), but she also didn’t exaggerate tickets prices so that regular people and not just celebrities could come to Marijin Perivoj on Trsat. And it was really something to hear and see.

The Argentinean tenor (and conductor, composer and soon perhaps also director) is in his prime singing years and in top form.

Under windy and chilly skies (Cura constantly remarked on the cold weather) he sang seven famous tenor arias (including both Cavaradossi arias), several duets and an intimate Argentinean love song about the ideal woman.

He finished the extremely demanding concert for any tenor with Calaf’s aria “Nessun dorma,” triumphantly interpreted in such a way that one can hear only in an exceptional live performance.

Brilliant acting

Cura showed that he is as dangerous as a panther for his partner, because he sings impulsively, almost unpredictably, and acts gloriously, and it doesn’t matter if it is concert performance, for he fully controls and dominates on stage, as when he used a nearby chair to sit on for Canio’s aria “Vesti la giubba.” Cura had wisely chosen a programme in cooperation with conductor Nada Matosevic, who very gently and carefully led the orchestra of the Rijeka opera house. He also had a very good supporting partner in outstanding mezzo-soprano Dubravka Separovic-Musovic, who was a big surprise for the audience in Rijeka.

She didn’t overwhelm Cura, but she equally “fought” as a seductive Dalila, a vicious, defiant Carmen and a desperate Santuzza. Their deeply passionate duets, especially Dalila’s love aria “Mon coeur,” during which Samson only briefly expresses his love and desire, could perhaps be considered the high point in the concert as a great example of complete singers’ and actors’ feelings, during which the audience nearly became indecent voyeurs. Cura kept hold of his baton as he sang during this duet.

In fact Cura was able in a very short time to get into the spirit and the very friendly atmosphere of the place that prevail in Trsat, as he demonstrated when he asked Padre Serafino to excuse him when he was going to conduct Saint-Saens’ Baccanale, which he graciously mentioned means orgy, so near the wall of the cloister.

Cura Lifts Audience From Seats

Novi list (Rijeka),

Kim Cuculic

18 July 2006

The famous Argentinian tenor José Cura, who presented his concert within the frame of Rijeka Summer Nights in Marijin perivoj, Trsat, last night, fascinated more than 1,000 opera lovers from not only Croatia but from other countries with his inspirational interpretations.

He had an excellent partner in mezzo-soprano Dubravka Separovic-Musovic, a soloist from the Zagreb opera, and the orchestra of the Rijeka theatre, conducted by Nada Matosevic, showed good effort.

The concert opened with the overture and Siciliana from Cavalleria rusticana by Pietro Mascagni and the first half included an aria from Santuzza, a duet between Santuzza and Turiddu and the intermezzo from Cavalleria rusticana as well as arias from the operas Andrea Chenier and Pagliacci, whereas the second part of the program consisted of arias from Tosca, Samson et Dalila and Carmen.

Cura sang the Siciliana from the window of the Trsat cloister’s dining-room and for the aria “Mon coeur” from Samson et Dalila Cura demonstrated another specialty – he sang and conducted in the same time.

After the long-lasting applause of the audience, who offered a standing ovation for Cura’s brilliant achievement and after repeated shouts of “Bravo!” Cura gave as an encore a traditional love song from Argentina – his homeland--and the famous aria “Nessun dorma.”

An organized party in the premises of the Trsat cloister was held after the two-hour concert.

Life, love and opera - a tenor's worth

 

Belfast Telegraph

Rathcol

19 October 2006

One of the world's most celebrated tenors, José Cura, opens the Belfast Festival at Queen's tomorrow night. Here, our classical music correspondent Rathcol catches up with the mellow maestro at his home in Madrid, and finds him insisting that good music is just like good wine and good sex - you just need to take your time.

Maestro Cura, can I ask you a few questions about your forthcoming concert in Belfast? "Well, ok, yes, but I must tell you that I am drunk."

The interviewer's feeling of opportunity in such a situation is only equalled by that of apprehension. But there was nothing to fear here, of course.

"I've just come from a family celebration," he goes on. "But no, I'm joking of course, I'm fine."

In fact, talking to José Cura, on the phone from Madrid, after his lengthy and relaxed, typically Spanish lunch, proves to be the perfect time to enjoy the loquacious famous tenor.

Cura, one of the world's most celebrated singers, performs in Belfast at the Waterfront Hall tomorrow night, opening the 44th Belfast Festival at Queen's. I ask him about the music he'll be singing (including favourites from Puccini and Verdi) and how he chooses his concert hall programmes.

"Ah you've touched on a delicate point," he says. "The programme is a difficult thing to handle. As a curious artist you want to do strange and new things, but you also compromise with the great hits. This is the first time ever I sing in Belfast. I will give the people what they want to hear, and when I return I'll do something more rare."

It's easy to feel an instant friendship with this man;he hasn't yet set foot in the country, but he's talking about return visits, and throughout the interview he talks about building relationships.

Verdi and Puccini are the two main musical figures in any tenor's life. I seek out differences of approach for these two Italian masters, but Cura's musicality is a simpler, more direct form of expression.

"I approach everything the same way," he says. "From a strict musical and dramaturgical point of view. There is a problem with these concerts. What you have is little excerpts of theatrical pieces, of operas, and these pieces are out of context. You only have 50% of the product.

"What you have to do, in two, three, four minutes, is transmit the psychology of the character. This is the challenge. I like to interact with the audience and joke with the audience. The sensation of these concerts is completely different to the opera house - you don't have a single psychology in the one evening."

We move on to his Argentinian heritage. "Argentina plays a normal part in a well-balanced life," he says. "It's my country. It's like a mother, your mother is always your mother and always has a special place in your heart. After eight years I return to sing in Buenos Aires this year. It will be very special, but I am thoroughly European now."

I mention that Argentinian music, especially in the hands of tango master Ástor Piazzola, is very popular in Ireland at the moment ... "Ah yes, it has a very strong folk connotation," he says. "It's classical music written with our folkloric blend or smell. Like Kodaly or Bartok.

"It's like in Ireland and Scotland, there is a body relation with the rhythm and the drama is very strong."

Talking to Cura you realise that so many of his answers are easy, self-evident. This is what great artists do. They see a clear picture, a viable route, and they use it.

Take this answer: I ask Cura why, demanded as he is across the world as a singer, he chooses to conduct.

"To move a little bit the air," he says, charmingly, in English which is perfectly clear, yet thoroughly Spanish. "To include some change in the concerts. The point is, not a lot of people know I started my career as a conductor - I was 15 years old - and as a composer. I was 30 years old when I became a singer, when I became a famous larynx."

Cura is proud of his all round musicianship.

"I will conduct Giordano's Siberia, I think this is the first time it is performed in Belfast. We have a local premiere."

And the composition? "Composition is a complement to being a good singer," he says, "at the moment I'm revisiting an opera I wrote for children based on a Hans Christian Anderson story." He promises to let me know how it goes.

The subject which energises Cura the most is the role of opera in society and, in particular, the charge that the art form is elitist.

"It's one thing what people think opera is -people think opera is only for the elite. That's b******t," he insists. "Going to a football match is just as much about money. If you need that to excuse yourself, then you need to move to something else.

"Obviously, if you want to see Ireland play France then you will pay more, like going to La Scala, and with a local team you pay less.

"Classical is a dangerous word. It's an artform with very strong connotations of technique and intellect. It's true, you can't digest it like a hamburger.

"It's like looking at a famous painting ... you have to think about this. It's the same as classical music. It's not an obvious music... it's not pre-cooked and frozen.

"You open a good bottle of wine, you can't just drink it at once. You have to wait for three hours. People want everything in two minutes with minimum effort. You need the chance to prepare yourself.

"Opera, wine, sex - the common factor is patience. You need to take your time."

To finish, I tell him about the opera scene in Ireland. The trouble we've had in the past and the fact that, despite excellent work by companies like the Dublin based Opera Theatre Company, there has too often been a lack of vision and commitment from the people holding the purse strings, especially in the north.

His closing remark is typically magnanimous: "If I can be of any help, then please ask."

It seems that Belfast could have a new and influential friend.

Ever-charming Cura wows the audience

Newsletter

Andrea Rea

24 October 2006

THE City of Belfast was buzzing and glamorous on Friday night last, with big things happening in just about every venue in town.

Possibly the glitziest place to be was the Grand Opera House for the gala opening of the new extension.

Perhaps the trendiest place to be was the Spiegeltent, a new Belfast Festival venue that promises a slightly bohemian experience for audiences in a tent of mirrors.

But I’ll bet you the crowd that had the most fun was at the Waterfront Hall, for the Ulster Bank-sponsored Festival Opening Concert with José Cura and the Ulster Orchestra.

In an age when everyone seems to be labelled a star, each one bigger than the next, it was nice to see and hear a performer of genuine quality and surprising humility.

The Festival programme calls Cura “the world’s finest tenor”, a claim which simply shouldn’t be made. Not that he isn’t great, because he is, but its just so much a matter of taste. And I don’t know about anyone else, but I was prepared to take a sceptic’s-eye view of this musician because of the hype. As it happens, Cura’s voice is pretty wonderful: strong, accurate and well-supported.

Friday evening’s repertoire, all operatic, was a crash course in some of the lesser-known tenor arias from Italian opera, with some firm favourites as well. The concert began with the Prelude to Cavalleria Rusticana, conducted by Mario de Rose, who kept the orchestra on it’s toes by being less than precise in his style of beating. His conducting is very fluid and beautiful to watch, but not always clear.

Cura sang from off stage during this and then appeared for an aria from La Gioconda. As a performer, he’s entirely at ease on stage, moving about and interacting with the orchestra. Indeed, the orchestra was very much a part of this concert, with both Cura and de Rose going out of their way to acknowledge them collectively and individually.

Clarinettist Chris King received special and well-deserved notice for warm solo passages. Cura also conducts, and took up the baton for the Prelude to Act 2 of Siberia, a little-known Giordano piece. He also conducted the Bacchanale from Saint-Saëns’s Samson and Delilia. He’s a confident conductor, not graceful but with a kind of animal energy and terrific precision. The opening chord of the Saint-Saëns was as well placed and together as anything in the concert.

We were also given a glimpse of José Cura’s acting ability as he inhabited the role of each piece he sang. Death of Otello by Verdi was especially heartfelt, as was the spectre of the broken-hearted clown Canio leaving the stage after the famous aria from I Pagliacci which ended the first half of the concert.

Cura lifted the stool he had been sitting on and carried it forlornly off, the absolute picture of dejection. Cura himself seems a very jolly fellow, and he chatted to the hall and the audience listening on BBC Radio Ulster, making fun of himself and bantering with the orchestra.

Inevitably, there were encores, one of which, Soneto IV by Gustavino, was an Argentinian song for harp and voice only. The ever-charming Cura planted a kiss on the harpist’s cheek afterwards, and I’m sure the entire hall sighed as one.

The concert finished with an aria from Madame Butterfly, despite calls for Danny Boy from the floor. When Cura returns to Belfast (and I hope he does) I suspect he will give us Danny Boy.

And, in the meantime, I’m going to learn the harp!

Belfast Concert, October 2006:  "The starry opening concert brought a Belfast début with the Ulster Orchestra for Argentinian tenor José Cura, one of those singers whose voice so fits him like a glove it gives him the freedom of movement of any well-fitting garment.  He conducts, too, and not without skill.... " Irish times, 24 October 2006

Charismatic Cura impresses

Belfast Telegraph

Rathcol

21 October 2006

José Cura is a rare find. As well as being a talented vocal actor that has the physicality to add a sense of realism to popular operatic roles, he is also a skilled conductor.

Last night’s opening concert of the 44th Belfast Festival saw the Argentina tenor perform with the Ulster Orchestra in the Waterfront Hall. A few empty seats did not de­tract from what proved to be a magical evening.

Conductor Mario de Rose led the Orchestra through the beautifully delicate Prelude from Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana. Cura began his performance off­stage, later casually strutting around to envelop the audience with his powerful presence as he performed Sia Gloria ai canti … cielo a mar from Ponchielli’s La gioconda.

The charismatic performer next switched roles to conduct Giordano’s Prelude to Act 2 from Siberia. Cura’s relationship with the orchestra blossomed as he interpreted Giordano’s Come un bel di maggio from Andrea Chenier and the short but sweet Amor ti vieta from Fedora. A passionate Intermezzo and Ariadi Canio from Leoncavallo’s I pagliacci followed.

Puccini’s touching E lucevan le stelle from Tosca, and the crowd-pleasing Nessun dorma from Turandot, signalled the end of the programmed concert. However, Cura was far from finished. Three encores later, this international star was met with a standing ovation.

It is no easy task to adequately express a character within just a few minutes of music but José Cura managed it with aplomb. Praise must also be given to the accompaniment. As Cura ex­claimed: “What an orchestra!”

Cura in Belfast

Irish News

Ruth McCartney

23 October 2006

The opening concert of the Belfast Festival at Queen’s is always a great source of conversation and a much talked-about affair.  Without a doubt, this weekend’s concert, featuring José Cura and the Ulster Orchestra, in Belfast’s Waterfront Hall, will be discussed for a long time to come.  To enlist an international opera star like José Cura is a real triumph for Queen’s. This is a man with a hectic schedule around the world opera circuit.  The Argentinean-born tenor has won critical acclaim both as a singer and a conductor. On Friday night he entertained the crowd with his sheer excellence in both capacities.

The concert began with the Ulster Orchestra playing Prelude from Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana.  Cura kept us in suspense as he sang from off-stage. When he entered, he radiated a warmth, magnetism and great sense of enthusiasm which won the audience over straight away.  In his chosen selection of songs, which included Leoncavallo’s Aria di Canio from Pagliacci and Verdi’s Morte di Otello, from Otello, Cura displayed his complete mastery of vocal technique.  His phrasing was always perfect and his seemingly inexhaustible voice just floated up to one stunningly brilliant top B after another.  His strong voice could be heard clearly throughout the auditorium from any point that he moved to on stage, even when his back was to the audience as he faced the choir stalls.  Cura seems to surrender himself totally to the characterisation of each role and his disciplined singing and passionate expression were supreme.

He had a very relaxed manner for a super-star and one wouldn’t have expected him to take time to search out in the hall the school choir who greeted him at the airport on Thursday or to applaud the Ulster Orchestra so warmly, but these little touches and his infectious sense of enthusiasm added to his enormous charisma.  The Ulster Orchestra responded well to all that was asked of it in the romantic accompaniments and in the stand alone pieces.  Both harpists played very sensitively throughout.

Cura’s broad talents were clearly displayed in his conducting skills in works such as Sinfonia from Verdi’s La forza del destino when conductor Mario de Rose stood down to let the great man take to the podium.  After a few lollipops such as Puccini’s E lucevan le stelle from Tosca and the ever-popular Nessun dorma, Cura returned to the stage to perform several encores and received a standing ovation from a very appreciative audience.  This was a very memorable occasion.  Well done Belfast Festival!

Belfast Concert, October 2006:  ‘The starry opening concert brought a Belfast début with the Ulster Orchestra for Argentinean tenor José Cura, one of those singers whose voice so fits him like a glove it gives him the freedom of movement of any well-fitting garment. He conducts, too, and not without skill…’ Michael Dervan, Irish Times, 24 October 2006

Belfast Concert, October 2006: ‘In an age when everyone seems to be labelled a star, each one bigger than the next, it was nice to see and hear a performer of genuine quality and surprising humility.  The Festival programme calls Cura “the world’s finest tenor”, a claim which simply shouldn’t be made [but] as it happens, Cura’s voice is pretty wonderful:  strong, accurate and well-supported.  As a performer, Cura is entirely at ease on stage, moving about and interacting with the orchestra.  Indeed, the orchestra was very much a part of this concert, with Cura going out of his way to acknowledge them collectively and individually.

Cura also conducts, and took up the baton for the Prelude to Act 2 of Siberia, a little-known Giordano piece.  He also conducted the Bacchanale from Saint-Saëns’ Samson and Dalila.  He’s a confident conductor, not graceful but with a kind of animal energy and terrific precision.  The opening chord of the Saint-Saëns was as well placed and together as anything in the concert. 

We were also given a glimpse of José Cura’s acting ability as he inhabited the role of each piece he sang.  Death of Otello by Verdi was especially heartfelt, as was the spectre of the broken-hearted clown Canio leaving the stage after the famous aria from Pagliacci which ended the first half of the concert.

Cura lifted the stool he had been sitting on and carried it forlornly off, the absolute picture of dejection.  Cura himself seems a very jolly fellow, and he chatted to the hall and the audience listening on BBC Radio Ulster, making fun of himself and bantering with the orchestra.

Inevitably, there were encores, one of which, Soneto IV by Gustavino, was an Argentinean song for harp and voice only.  The ever-charming Cura planted a kiss on the harpist’s cheek afterwards, and I’m sure the entire hall sighed as one.’  Andrea Rea, 24 October 2006

Tucker Gala

Listen to José Cura, Patricia Racette, James Morris and more  in the grand septet and chorus, A terra! ... sì, nel livido fango."

Click Here!

Tucker Gala, NYC, November:  “The tenor lineup included José Cura of Argentina, singing with swaggering machismo “Tutto parea sorridere ... Si, de’Corsari il fulmine,” from “Il Corsaro” by Verdi.”  The New York Times, 14 November 2006

Tucker Gala, NYC, November:  “The most curious rendition came from the powerful José Cura in 'Tutto parea sorridere ... Sì! de’Corsari il fulmine' from Il corsaro. Cura engaged in all manner of troubling vocal mannerisms: hiccough-like effects, glottal stops, harsh register changes in order to portray his character’s distress. Even more curious was his turning his back again and again to the audience while listening to the chorus and some rather unfathomable gestures made to the conductor. One rather wanted to tell him to just stand there and sing!   The evening ended with Act Three/Scene Two from Otello, which, in contrast, was superb. Cura, Racette and Andrew Gangestad were impressive; likewise the orchestra and chorus.”  Classical Source, November 2006

Tucker Gala, NYC, November:  “The high points were thrillingly high:  René Pape was excellent in the coronation scene from Boris Godunov, while José Cura exploded with fiery energy when he took the stage for Il Corsaro’s  Tutto parea sorridere…Si! De  Corsari il fulmine…..” Opera News, February 2007

Tucker Gala, NYC, November:  “…the tenors that did made an appropriately strong showing.  José Cura [offered] a formidable reading, in even darker tenor tone, of reflective cavatina Tutto parea sorridere  and vigorous cabaletta Si: de' corsari il fulmine, sung twice, from Giuseppe Verdi's Il Corsaro.  The gala's resounding conclusion was Act Three, Scene Two of Otello,  Evviva il Leon di San Marco, with Cura, a furious Moor of Venice, so in character that it looked like he would actually strike Racette's sensitive Desdemona, her soprano sailing buoyantly over all in the grand septet and chorus, A terra! ... sì, nel livido fango."  Q on Stage, November 2007

José Cura ONLY full length solo concert performance in the US!

Internationally-acclaimed Metropolitan Opera Tenor, José Cura, to Make Florida Debut with Orquestra de São Paulo

Entertainment News and Views

31 August 2006

In a major coup for the Concert Association that will thrill opera audiences throughout Florida, internationally-acclaimed Argentinean tenor José Cura will make his Florida debut, Thursday, November 9, at 9pm in an exclusive Florida performance that will launch the Concert Association’s 2006-07 Sanford L. Ziff Prestige Series at Carnival Center’s John S. and James L. Knight Concert Hall.

Winning a special release from his ongoing engagement, October 28-November 11, as ‘Cavaradossi’ in Puccini’s Tosca, Concert Association’s Artistic Director Judy Drucker announced that Cura will join maestro John Neschling and Orquestra de São Paulo in a special program that will feature arias and boleros as well as orchestral works from renowned Latin composers including Geronimo Giménez’ La Boda de Luis Alonso, Heitor Villa-Lobos’ Bachianas Brasileiras No. 4 and Alberto Ginastera’s Estancia: Ballet Suite.

Firmly entrenched as one of today’s great modern voices, José Cura will join tenors Rolando Villazon and Salvatore Lucitra, and sopranos Maria Guleghina and Angela Gheorghiu, as major voices highlighting the extraordinary presentations of Drucker’s 40th Anniversary season.

World-renowned for his intense and original interpretations of opera characters, notably Verdi’s Otello and Saint-Saëns’ Samson, as well as for his unconventional and innovative concert performances, Cura was born in Rosario, Santa Fe, Argentina. He became the second tenor in Metropolitan Opera history to make his debut on opening night when, in 1999, he performed in Cavalleria Rusticana (the other having been Caruso in 1902). Cura made history again as the first artist to sing and conduct simultaneously (both in concert and on recordings), and also the first to combine singing with symphonic works in a ‘half and half’ concert format. Once again, Cura made history when he conducted Cavalleria Rusticana and then stepped on stage after intermission to sing ‘Canio’ in Pagliacci at the Hamburg Opera in February 2003.

A compelling actor and charismatic stage performer, Cura has been featured in numerous telecasts of opera and concert productions around the world, and has received many awards for artistic excellence. In 1994, he was awarded first place at the International Singers Competition (Operalia) as well as the Prize of the Public; in 1997 he was awarded the Abbiati Award (Italian critics' prize) for his performances in two Mascagni operas - Iris in Rome and Cavalleria Rusticana at the Ravenna Festival; and in Il Corsaro in Turin. A year later, he earned the Orphée d'Or from Académie du Disque Lyrique. In 1999, the Buenos Aires' CAECE University awarded him the distinction of “Professor Honoris Causae” and the city of Rosario the one of “Citizen of Honour.” He received the ECHO award for Sänger des Jahres from the Deutscher Schallplattenpreis in 2000
 

Isn't it dangerous to sing "lions" of the repertoire like Otello at such a young age?

People speak from the wisdom of life but there are always exceptions. My first Otello in 1997 with Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic was a unique opportunity. I took it cautiously, not wanting to sound like anyone else.  It was the beginning with a character who will be a career-long partner.  I have sung the role more than a hundred times already and he is a favorite. He suits me.  He’s a terribly psychological character but I am maturing with him well.

Will you sing Wagner like the Chilean Ramón Vinay, another famous Otello with a baritonal timbre?

Vinay had the advantage of being bilingual in Spanish and German, which, apart from his talent, opened the doors of Wagner for him. You have to speak the language you sing in and I can't stand singing phonetically. I had an invitation from the Bayreuth Festival but it didn't materialize; I can tell you that I will play Peter Grimes (Britten), a role as complex as it is fascinating.

Samson, Don José, Otello, Peter Grimes, the characters of the great Jon Vickers.

My voice is darker, blacker. The challenge is to measure yourself against yourself rather than others, because you are your own best reference. Resisting comparisons applies not only to singing but to everything and everyone. I don't mind being told that I am better or worse than someone else because time will tell.  But not living at one's own best level is a bad sign and it will be time to retire.

I am a privileged but not because of luck.  I have achieved everything by making an effort. My privilege is to see the fruit of my work.  It enriches me as a person and as an artist. I want to go deeper into this maturity without this maturity turning into putrefaction.

Who is your model?

I won’t say.  People will misunderstand.

Are you afraid to go on stage?

"Fear" is a big word that is much overused.   I never go on stage terrified; I go out to enjoy. I've spent more than half my life on stage, where I'm comfortable and happy.

Are you a singer or the actor first?

Since I privilege acting over singing, I have been accused of "talking" instead of singing. I perfected a technique that some people dispute but which gives me excellent results. It is not orthodox.  What singer who has stood out had it? You don't see it, you feel it. You can't "see" me sing. A good actor should not be seen acting. A good singer should not be seen singing, either. If not having technique is what I do, well... I'm happy with my ''anti'' technique. They will say I am arrogant but false humility is worse than arrogance; they confuse arrogance with confidence. I am confident, satisfied with my achievements and I transmit that.

How do you go from classical to popular repertoire?

By recreating a familiar sensation since I started singing popular. For a trained voice it is very easy. With a Formula 1 car you can race but you can also go for a slow drive. The other way around, it doesn't work. Knowing how to manage the vocal machinery is simple; a classical singer can do it, a marketing invention cannot.

Being that the new great tenors are Latinos, is there another possibility of more concerts like that of the famous three?

We could do it, but it would be questionable. Although the product would be excellent, the market is saturated and the magic formula does not exist. There may be one, five or ten tenors but without charisma nothing will happen.  Charisma is the secret of art.  It is the only thing that counts.

What will you sing in Miami?

Concert disappointed

Miami Herald

G Fishman

20 November 2006

[Excerpt]

After many huge advertisements that Argentine tenor José Cura was to sing, one expected an operatic concert. That is not what the public received.

Generally, when an operatic tenor sings in concert, he sings quite a bit more than three arias and two or three songs. Cura spent much of his limited time on stage talking, which could not be heard, even by those close to the stage.  The entire second act was orchestral.

When he did sing, Cura had the annoying habit of turning and singing to the orchestra…. 

'Orquestra' shines, but tenor leaves audience wanting

Miami Herald

Lawrence Budmen

11 November 2006

Tenor José Cura and Brazil's Orquestra de Sao Paulo were the combustible combination at the Concert Association's first program at the Carnival Center's John S. and James L. Knight Concert Hall on Thursday. With conductor John Neschling firing up the Latin-accented musical offerings, the energy level never flagged.

The Sao Paulo ensemble is an orchestral powerhouse that can hold its own on the world stage. Antonio Carlos Gomes' Overture to Il Guarany showcased the group's crisp winds and thunderous brass. Neschling played this Verdi imitation to the hilt.

The ensemble's lush strings shone resplendently in the opening movement of Heitor Villa-Lobos' Bachianas Brasileiras No. 4. Neschling brought coherence to this unwieldy mixture of Bach, Tchaikovsky, Hollywood, and indigenous Brazilian music. A pupil of renowned Viennese pedagogue Hans Swarowsky (who also taught Zubin Mehta and Claudio Abbado), Neschling is a superb orchestra builder and musical colorist who brings subtle musicality to the flashiest of scores.

The orchestra's final tour de force was Ginastera's Estancia Ballet Suite. Ravishing duos of flute and strings captured the languorous sentimentality of the Wheat Dance. A high-voltage rendition of the concluding Malambo brought the audience to its feet.

Cura, however, was the concert's real draw. At a time when the opera world is searching for replacements for the beloved Three Tenors, Cura has the vocal resources and charisma to make his presence felt.

This tenor's vocal ardor and darkly burnished lower and middle registers have the allure of Plácido Domingo but his singing can be uneven. Vesti la giubba from Leoncavallo's Pagliacci was emotionally over the top, sung at an unrelenting forte. In two arias from Puccini's Tosca, Cura's impassioned vocalism and sensuous, dulcet soft tones held the house enthralled.

In two boleros (Somos novios and Esta tarde vi llover), Cura sang with the casual ease of Frank Sinatra or Tony Bennett. But three arias and two pop songs was rather paltry for the audience that paid $75.00 and $125.00 for top seats in the 2,400 seat hall.

Cura's banter with the conductor took up precious time when he could have been singing additional arias. Rather than performing a recital, he seemed instead to be auditioning for a cabaret act. When he returned at the program's conclusion, Cura chastised the audience for leaving at intermission. Unfortunately, the audience members he felt compelled to chastise weren't the ones who had left.

For encores Cura offered a lovely, surprisingly understated Spanish love song (with exquisite harp accompaniment) and a ringing, stentorian version of Nessun Dorma from Turandot. By sheer force of voice and personality, Cura came and conquered, but vocal lovers deserved to hear more of this powerhouse tenor in the operatic oeuvre for which his voice is so well suited.

Good music for an incurable ego

El Nuevo Herald

Daniel Fernandez

14 November 2006

The Orchestra of Sao Paulo demonstrated in its presentation on Thursday at the Knight Concert Hall with Argentine singer José Cura that it has nothing to envy to the best in the world. Accuracy, precision, rhythm, grace and a conductor who knows how to nuance and steer the ship to a good harbor: John Neschling.

The orchestra was formidable from beginning to end, but Cura's case was undoubtedly incurable. Embarked on an ego trip, the ship of his performance was wrecked from the very first attempt with his Vesti la giubba, from Pagliacci. The orchestra began alone with the Intermezzo and then [Cura] entered, with a chair on his shoulder to sit down on while he sang. Which he did, sometimes projecting his voice disastrously towards the stage floor. Without going into the questionable acoustics of the venue—there are problems with what is said or sung in the proscenium—his eagerness throughout the evening to wander among the orchestra, singing to the cellists and violinists, constantly turning his back to the audience and other things that announced a deeply irreverent and immature attitude, further detracted from the effect of his lackluster performance.

Cura possesses a powerful voice with a beautiful timbre, yet he lacks schooling, sensitivity and—as could be seen—respect for the audience. Many left at intermission. Others, as soon as the show was over, left in droves without waiting for encores. Cura dared to complain about this escape before offering two unexpected final offers. He took the audience's departure as rudeness, his ego not allowing him to see that those who left were simply not happy with what they saw and heard: a beautiful voice wasted and a nice guy clowning around on stage, one who believes that because of his voice and his looks everyone will laugh at him (although it must be admitted that many did). “He’s so cute," a friend told me. “You can forgive him for not singing''.

And it is true that he barely sang, because there were only three arias (the aforementioned, Recondita armonía and E lucevan le stelle, both from Tosca, by Puccini) with two boleros by Manzanero, performed with a microphone. Do not think that I am exaggerating when I comment on this singer, who—perhaps jokingly—said that he was going to stop singing opera to sing boleros, a comment that was not well received by the public. For example, in Recondita..., when he held the final note, in the middle of the caricature he pretended as if he was having a hard time and then kicked the floor at the end of the effort. In the following aria, during a line he twirled his finger as if in a spiral. Gestures like that show that he doesn't even remotely put any feeling into what he sings and that he also seems to have thought that the people who filled the hall had come to see his stage antics and not “really” to hear him sing.

As for the encores, they consisted of a song—which he did not identify, another sign of his discourtesy—accompanied by harp, and Nessum dorma by Puccini, which left much to be desired.

Cura said this was his first concert in the United States.  Let’s hope that, at least in Miami, it was his last.

Tenor Cura Captivates Audience with his Voice and Charm

Diario Las Americas

Ariel Remos

13 November 2006

The Argentine tenor José Cura captivated the Miami audience with his voice and charm. Applause gives, without a doubt, the measure of the degree of conquest of the audience by a singer and in this case that applause became delirious when, in response to the prolonged final applause, he gave as a gift (an encore) the famous aria from Turandot, Nessun dorma.

Cura's concert opened the 2006-2007 season of the Concert Association of Florida—directed by impresario Judy Drucker—in the Concert Hall of the Carnival Center for the Fine Arts, accompanied by the formidable Orchestra of Sao Paulo under the direction of John Neschling.

Cura broke the formality that normally prevails between the singer and the audience when he addressed them, conversed, displayed his humor and created a familiar rapport that for some made his intervention more pleasant and for others went too far. In this, as in everything else, opinions differ. Some think that, indeed, an operatic concert is something very serious, and therefore the distance between the singer and the audience should not be breached. For others, there is no doubt that these exchanges with the audience, especially if it is done with grace, is relaxing and creates a better atmosphere.

It has been a long time since we have heard a heroic voice like Cura's, accomplished from any technical angle, with a temperament that knows how to imprint each passage with the emotionality it requires. It reminded us of Franco Bonisolli's: powerful voice, with a dark but brilliant timbre, easy, solid and firm high notes. As we said, his interpretation of the Nessun dorma drove the audience crazy, with the dramatism he gave it and an impressive long and rounded final note.

His great temperament, like that dark and enveloping timbre, gave a special accent to the famous arioso from Leoncavallo's Pagliacci, Vesti la giubba and to the two romanzas from Puccini's Tosca, Recóndita armonia and E lucevan le stelle.

Cura included popular songs by composer Manzanero: Somos novios and Esta tarde vi llover. For these he used a microphone, because he did almost all of them mezzo voce, with some passages that seemed like whispers and would not be heard without that sound equipement but nevertheless demonstrated Cura's perfect mastery of his voice.  He sang Somos novios almost completely in half voice and, at times, with a quarter voice, while in Esta tarde vi llover, he alternated with full voice. In other words, Cura sings the popular songs as a balladeer would, not as an opera singer.

APCL Concert - José Cura and guests

Absolutmartunis

28 January 2007

It was, above all, a special concert. It was a show organized by the Portuguese Association Against Leukemia to raise funds for the fight against the disease.

The Pavilhão Atlântico was the venue chosen for the event, and the conductor and tenor José Cura was the show's host and central figure: numerous figures from various musical backgrounds and various continents performed alongside him. Always accompanied by the Portuguese Symphony Orchestra, in the first half José Cura played solo themes by Puccini, Leoncavallo, Shumman, Rachmaninov, and Listz, with the (spectacular) piano participation of Domingos António.

After the intermission came the guests: Lauren Marginson, Rui Veloso, Luís Represas, Glauco Venier (piano), and Luz Casal: their performance was truly breathtaking. Her stage presence alone would be of enormous value, but the circumstances in which she performed made it even brighter: Luz Casal had undergone an operation for breast cancer a few days before this concert: even so, she sang and enchanted the Pavilhão Atlântico, not shying away from sharing her pain: 'I have only been part of this group for a few days'.

In a previous appearance in Portugal, José Cura was "accused" of being unfriendly and uncommunicative, but last Thursday he dispelled any doubt and even taking into account the seriousness of the cause, the conductor and tenor talked a lot with the audience (which was not in great number), and even "joked" from time to time, helping to relax the environment and the audience.

There were many moments of music and a great show, ranging between beautiful and very beautiful. Performances by various musicians, always with the Portuguese Symphony Orchestra behind them, oscillated between classical music, opera, and even jazz. At the end, José Cura (who sang, and conducted the orchestra - in two themes), interpreted 'Nessun Dorma', made famous by Luciano Pavarotti, and the audience responded with a standing ovation.

It was a pity that the Pavilion was not full, and when José Cura prepared to 'start the closing' of the show, many were already heading for the exit doors. It is true that the next day would be a working day... but leaving in the middle of a show of this magnitude is not something anyone should do... much less when the man on stage is named José Cura. Even the man himself, when he saw the stampede of the audience, launched a barb which at least had the effect of making those who were still seated smile, and stopping those who were heading for the street.

José Cura at the Atlântico

Jornal de Notícias

25 January 2007

I'm not a critic and therefore I can't say if, musically, the show [itself was great].  It seemed to me, for example, that Rui Veloso and Luís Represas didn't give their best. It must not be easy to duet with José Cura - who has a powerful voice but is obviously not made for light songs. And the 14 year old American girl who was making her debut on European stages probably wouldn't have been placed in a 'real' concert either (unlike pianist Domingos António, who thrilled the audience and got one of the most enthusiastic applauses of the night).

But the goal of the concert was not exactly to be a parade of brilliant performances. This initiative, now in its third edition, has another scope: to touch people's hearts. In this sense, the most sublime moment was that of Luz Casal.

Entering the stage wearing a dazzling pea-green dress, she began by addressing the audience softly and calmly, telling them how pleased she was to be there; then she expressed her affection for people suffering from leukemia and the various forms of cancer; and concluded, still serenely, by saying: "For a few days now I've been part of this great collective.

Despite the cold outside, inside the pavilion the temperature was mild. But at that moment, in front of that fragile figure inside a showy pea-colored dress, the audience froze.

It was the highpoint of the evening.

How touching it was to see the tenderness that José Cura offered to her, holding her hand behind her back, out of the public eye, while they sang together, making an effort to disguise with his voice the weaknesses that Casal obviously displayed.

In these concerts of the Association Against Leukemia, it is curious to think how the artist's name fits this role, considering that José is a biblical name that exists in all languages and Cura is what all patients long for.   The Argentine interpreter is much more than a tenor: he is the entertainer, a showman. He sings opera arias, sings duets, tells jokes and serious things, conducts the orchestra.

If Domingos Duarte Lima, sitting in the front row, attentive to every detail, is the brains and soul of the show, José Cura is its 'owner'. Until the curtain rises, Duarte Lima reigns; from then on, Cura reigns. And this informality of a tenor playing the master of ceremonies also ends up giving this concert a unique touch, with the flavor of things that can only be enjoyed there.

On Thursday of last week, the huge crowd of people who came to Pavilhão Atlântico didn't go to see a show: they went to pay tribute to the work of a man [Lima] - who, after overcoming leukemia, dedicated himself to the mammoth task of helping others overcome it.

But in this work - and in the concert that consecrates it - Duarte Lima found a first-rate assistant: José Cura.

The two of them created an event that, if you think about it, was not a concert: what happened there was the interpretation of a hymn, sung by a choir of people who, hand in hand, face an invisible enemy - and believe in victory.

The flag is the symbol:  it is not the DNI but the DNA of each of us.

La Capital

Marcelo Menichetti

20 June 2007

José Cura says that to sing at the Anniversary of the Monument was something special.  The Rosario tenor who now lives in Europe admits he was pleased by the invitation.

Rosario opera singer José Cura added to the festivities of the 50^th Anniversary of the National Monument to the Flag by interpreting “Canción a la bandera,” an aria from the opera Aurora by Héctor Panizza.  Visibly moved, the tenor who has taken root in Europe where he has forged a solid career talked with La Capital and confirmed the sentiment that his mother country remains the land of his infancy:  “When I close my eyes, the first thing I see is the house of my childhood, the neighborhood of my childhood,” he confessed.

Applauded by critics for his unique interpretations of Giuseppe Verdi’s Otello and Saint-Saen’s Samson, Cura is also recognized as the first artist to have sung and conducted simultaneously and the first to combine singing with symphonic programming in the same concert.

Emphatic, direct and talkative, Cura leaves behind for a moment his reputation as a singing artist of international stature to enter the area of confession and admit that to sing under these circumstances that summoned him (home) is something different.

La Capital:  What does it mean to you to sing at the Monument to the Flag?

 

José Cura:  To sing “Canción a la bandera” at the monument is intense.  It is not a normal concert, it is the place combined with the song of the place.  Nothing can be more intense than that.

 

La Capital:  Do you bring your memories to this place?

 

José Cura:  It is not only memories but also identity.  For a citizen of Rosario, the number one identification is the Monument to the Flag.  Perhaps after that, it is Newell’s and Central….After having sung “Canción a la bandera” in England, in Japan, in Australia, to sing it here is another thing altogether.

 

La Capital:  What does the flag mean to an exile?

 

José Cura:  No, not an exile because that implies a person who leaves with a kick in the ass, so to speak.  One is not an exile but an immigrant.  Just as many of our grandparents came from there to here looking for fortune, many of us left here for there looking for fortune.  And the flag is our commonality, our identity that is not even the DNI but the DNA of all of us.

 

La Capital:  Eight years ago you sang on this same spot before a crowd and I am wondering how that experience affected you.  What happened?

 

José Cura:  We expected 5 thousand people and 40,000 came.  It was extraordinary, full of fondness and affection.  It is an enormous memory.

 

La Capital:  When you close your eyes and think of Rosario, what do you see?

 

José Cura:  Probably when I close my eyes the first thing I see is the house of my childhood, the area of my childhood.  A place that has changed very much.  Clearly thirty years have passed….

 

La Capital:  This visit to Argentina was made for other reasons like the production at the Teatro Colón…

 

José Cura:  No.  This visit began because this is the year that marks the 50 years my parent have been married, an anniversary that coincides with the one of the Monument.  As soon as it was discovered I was coming, because it is almost impossible that when I come that no one will find out about it, then the invitations began to arrive which in this I have been supremely grateful because I have been able to take part in this festival.  Then came the offers from the Colon and the Concert of the Mozarteum here.  In the end, I am working more during my vacation than I work when I am at home.

 

La Capital:  What happened to your disc “Aurora”?

 

José Cura:  That was a disc dedicated to my country that begins with “Canción a la bandera.”  I recorded the disc in 2001, dedicated to Argentina, but it was never sold in this country.  We could not establish agreements with any distributor.  It was a disc dedicated to this country, sold throughout the world, and sadly no one here knows it.  On this occasion of the 50^th anniversary of the Monument, the City of Rosario agreed to buy 5,000 copies of the disc from my company at cost.  We did not gain anything but at least, in symbolic form, it will be represented in this commemoration even though it should have been here all along and sold thousands of copy simply because it is dedicated to Argentina, independently of whether anyone is pleased with the artist who made it.  When one dedicates a disc to the country, he dedicates it to the people.  It is a disc dedicate to my people which my people do not have.  Let us hope that the 5,000 copies are not enough.

Singer and Piano for a Perfect Tribute

José Cura and Eduardo Delgado celebrated the 25th anniversary of the Mozarteum Rosario

La Capital

Marcelo Menichetti

10 July 2007

The Mozarteum Argentino Filial Rosario celebrated its 25 years of activity in the city with an exceptional concert led by tenor José Cura and pianist Eduardo Delgado.  The Rosarino artists who now live abroad returned to their hometown to offer a repertoire of songs that reached its highest points with the world premier of “Sonetos,” poems by Pablo Neruda set to music by José Cura, instrumental versions by Delgado of “Adiós Nonino” by Aster Piazzolla and “Bailecito” by Carlos Guastavino, and the brilliant closing with “Canción a la bandera” from the opera Aurora by Héctor Panizza.

The auditorium of the Fundación Astengo was filled to capacity on this cold Sunday evening.  The not-to-be-missed event brought together most celebrated singer of the city and an internationally acclaimed pianist.  The reason for summoning them was no less important: the 25^th anniversary of an institution that made possible the performance in Rosario of the greatest proponents of the classics over the years, including musicians, conductors, soloists, chamber and large orchestras as well as dancers and singers. 

With an agreeable audience as backdrop, the concert was characterized by the informality established by the stars. Both artists were affected by obvious colds, taking breaks to drink tea on stage.  The gesture added the necessary warmth to a night lived in a real atmosphere of celebration for years of work worthily crowned with the presence of two sons of the city who today reap applause around the world but who returned to celebrate with music an anniversary with a happy birthday offered from the stage. 

José Cura, tenor from Rosario, performed at the Astengo Foundation's theater

DYN

9 July 2007

The Rosarino tenor José Cura performed once more 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 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, premiering “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 affirmed 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 in 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.

Concert, Halle with Anna Netrebko, Aug 2007:  ‘The audience of more than 8000 in the sold-out Gerry Weber Stadium responded enthusiastically Wednesday evening to soprano Anna Netrebko and tenor José Cura.  That Cura was virtually a last minute “replacement” in no way led to any diminution of the concert event.  On the contrary:  the Argentine tenor, who is not only a singer but also a composer, conductor, and photographer, convinced with his very expressive voice and his appealing manner, particularly apparent in his interaction with Anna Netrebko. From this evening on - Villazón may not want to hear this -we can speak of a “new” dream couple:  “Netrebko and Cura.”.’  Mindener Tageblatt, 24 August 2007

Concert, Halle with Anna Netrebko, Aug 2007: ‘Argentine tenor José Cura was a more than equal partner.  Cura filled the stadium with an imposing appearance and a strong tenor voice rich in nuance. So convincing was he that he even received more applause than the Russian diva for his solos from Andrea Chénier and the "Recitar" from Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci. Highpoints included José Cura’s dramatic and moving solo Un di, all’azzurro spazio from Girodano’s Andrea Chenier, as well as the duet Gia nella note dense from Verdi’s Otello.  In this number, as in the final scene from the first act of La boheme, Cura was a self-confident partner for Netrebko, able to engage in small jokes and shared kisses and, while inevitably compared with Villazón, was most agreeable.’   Neue Osnabrucker Zeitung, 24 August 2007

Concert, Halle with Anna Netrebko, Aug 2007: ‘José Cura, who stepped in at short notice, proved to be anything but a substitute. In the end, the 44-year-old tenor with his velvety, warm timbre earned both the admiration and sympathy of the audience. As perfectly as the two harmonized on stage, one can probably speculate about a new dream couple. … Cura [was Netrebko] equal in bel canto, with a melting Pavarotti-like timbre as well as immense depth of expression. Leoncavallo's “Recitar” or Puccini's “Nessum dorma” became touching bravura arias that swept the audience to their feet.’   Westfallen-Blatt, 24 August 2007

José Cura's two loves

Público

19 October 2007

Pedro Boléo

The voice of Argentine José Cura will be heard today in Lisbon.  And that is only one part:  after the interval he will pick up the baton and takes Beethoven by the horns.  Rebelliousness or professionalism?

He has two loves: the baton and the voice.  Two forms of expression of the same personality.  José Cura says that he always wanted to be a conductor but turned to singing to support his family.  It’s different now: Maestro José also supports the family while Cura continues as a tenor.  Today, in the Teatro San Carlos in Lisbon, he will sing some arias from opera but the main event of the evening is Beethoven’s 9^th Symphony, conducted by this artist in search of joy.  The same work is the most emblematic work of the ‘genius,’ as the maestro states without hesitation.

How does he sing and conduct the singers?  José Cura explains, "The artist prepares a show - he can be on one side, the other side, or both." In 2003, in Hamburg, he conducted one opera and jumped on stage to sing another after the intermission! Of course: "Nobody thinks it's weird that DeNiro goes behind the camera. Or Woody Allen becomes an actor in his films. But in opera..."

José Cura fights against established ideas and prefers to think of himself as a total artist. Or at least an artist free to do whatever he wants. A rebel? "Not in an unpleasant sense, but an artist has the right to create based on his own reality and instinct," he says.

He's been told he does too many things: he replies that being an artist "is not just about being safe and avoiding risks." He has been criticized for singing with excessive arm movements, as if he were conducting the orchestra: he maintains that the artist "must be true to his own nature.”  Before we even ask about the 9th Symphony he's about to conduct, José Cura straightens up in the armchair in his dressing room at the São Carlos and throws Beethoven into the fray: "If they dictated to Beethoven what he must do, he wouldn't have been able to do what he did to the art of the symphony." And he recalls, "About his symphony they said it was as unpleasant as the sound of a bag of nails. That it was trite. That it was 55 minutes longer than it needed to be. Today we know that it is the cornerstone of symphonic music."

And will Cura launch himself into the ‘cornerstone’ as if it were nothing?  He has the size, the physical strength, and the enthusiasm, certainly, but does he have the right stuff?  “Yes, I feel the responsibility,” says the singer, slouching in his chair.  “But on the other hand, it is simple: respect what the genius wrote.  You have to put yourself into the hands of the composer.” It is then that José Cura leans forward and fires off a thousand ideas about how the symphony could go.  He puts himself in Beethoven’s hands. “Many conductors today still think they can change a symphony to the better.  It’s a fairly common arrogance.  Even if it was ‘to improve it’…. does it need to be improved?” he asks. 

We are reminded of conductor Herbert von Karajan's versions of the Ninth and he jokes, "You said it, not me." But he’s now out of jokes: "There were excesses in the pseudo-romanticism kitsch at a certain time. Maybe people needed that in the post-war period—a haze, an exaggerated excessive mannerism, but that was then. We have to put that in historical context." Today things are different, he says. "For one thing there are better editions of the score. And because of that we have come to some striking conclusions. For example, Beethoven wanted certain passages to be taken at faster tempos." And just so that there are no misunderstandings, the Argentine conductor warns: "Many people will find my interpretation strange and original. But it is only what is written.”

We then move to José Cura, tenor—the same man but a star with different demands:  stage attitude, physical appearance, theatrical capabilities.  Is this just come down to the marketing of his image?  “I don't know what this marketing thing is," he says immediately.  "It's not about being handsome or not." And he confesses that "a lot of roles I'd like to do are of weirder or uglier guys, but they won't let me do it.  It is true that in spite of everything, we all have a physical self that determines the type of character.”

Jose Cura is a 45-year-old man, an opera superstar but a simple and straightforward person, with a touching honesty in the way he speaks. He is not a man of poses, although he knows how to be an actor and put on a performance. The key word that links his success is "professionalism” - a word that is used often but is worth less and less. But music is an examaple:  "The problem with music is that it's not like medicine. If the surgeon doesn't have a degree, you won't let him cut into your intestines. But in music the title means nothing. Many say they are [professionals] and they are not. They deceive the public."

We could see in him as a modern, multifaceted Pavarotti, one who goes to the gym, does photography (another great passion), plays guitar, sings, conducts, acts. But no - he's just José Cura, rebellious and respectful, a popular artist in opera houses, a stage animal, an open-minded man with "social commitments" (Cura is a founding member of the Portuguese Association against Leukemia).

Is this rebellion?  Yes and no.  He recalls Beethoven, once again: “If it were not for the rebels we would still be in the stone age.”

 

Christmas in Vienna

OE24

December 2007

He is something like the George Clooney of the opera world - "sexiest man alive on stage."  And she is the Nicole Kidman of classical music: tall, cool as the far north and stunningly flawless! We are talking about José Cura and Elina Garanca, the two world stars that ORF presents to you this year at Christmas in Vienna.

The spirited Argentine star tenor and the elegant Latvian singer - both play in the top league of today's opera singers.  They belong to the handful of young singers who are currently opening up completely new audiences for opera.

A certain something

What does it take? Voice alone is not enough today. The new stars must be able to sing fantastically and act no less well. They need character, sex appeal and must be willing to turn their inner selves inside out on stage. And they must have that indefinable "certain something" that has fascinated people of all times: they must have charisma.

Garanca and Cura are the big names - but with them, on December 22, a no less attractive team will be on stage at the festively decorated Wiener Konzerthaus: the likeable Paul Arnim Edelmann, son of the unforgettable Austrian bass Otto Edelmann, and the young Eteri Lamoris with her Spanish-Georgian roots. And that is no coincidence, because Christmas in Vienna means Christmas music from all over the world. Christmas carols from Latvia to Argentina, from Austria to Russia, as well as the great classical Christmas compositions by Mozart or Haydn.

The Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra is also multicultural. Conductor Karel Mark Chichon's family - he is Garanca's husband - comes from Gibraltar, he grew up in London, and he recently became the new principal conductor of the Graz Symphony Orchestra.

The Artist as Part of Society

 Der Standard

19 December 2007

Daniel Elder spoke to José Cura about his conducting, burned-out colleagues and Christmas as folklore.

STANDARD: Mr. Cura, you have different approaches to music. You have studied piano and composition, started conducting at 15 and only much later began to sing.  Is it sometimes difficult to switch between these approaches?

Cura: I do not think that I should switch, but that all of these activities interact. It is very interesting that no one is surprised when an instrumentalist starts to conduct, but everyone is when a singer begins to do so. Unfortunately, a singer has for many years been viewed not as a musician but only as someone is lucky enough to have a voice. Today there are many singers who are real musicians. And as a result, as a singer you presumably have different approaches to phrasing and breathing music.

STANDARD: Is it for different at the opera or at a Christmas Eve proceedings? Do you see any difference between art and event?

Cura: We use these traditional concerts especially to be present in the society. It is one thing to be staying in town as a guest artist and to appear in the concert hall, another to feel as if you are slowly beginning to belong to the people of a country.  To participate in a Christmas celebration has to do with an informal feeling:  the artist becomes part of the society and is not just someone who comes and departs again.  This concert shows this difference.  It is beautiful for an artist to identify himself with many people, not only those who go to the opera, but also those who switch on the television to hear Christmas carols. 

STANDARD: Entertainment as an art, not only for the elite?

Cura: When one says this, it means one thinks just the opposite. Artists are there so that the audience feels good and happy. That means that we artist must return to our roots and ask ourselves what it means to be an artists - a person from the society who is there to maintain the society. If we only look at it as a business, we lose contact with reality. We must do both: I must pay my bills, but must also have the good feeling of being part of a whole, as a doctor, lawyer or journalist, and not just an isolated individual. All this bullshit about the élite is anachronistic. Sorry, but a normal ticket for the Vienna State Opera is a lot cheaper than a ticket to a football game.

STANDARD: A big issue today is the dangers for young singers who sing too much.

Cura: That was also a danger for me when I started. In many cases, we lose great talent because they burn-out before they go far. In this respect, the music business is very brutal. This is a question of control and it is very difficult because young people are afraid that the dream may end once they say no. I thought to myself today: perhaps those who survive are the stronger, better able to remain on track - a kind of natural selection. But that is very dangerous and also very sad.

STANDARD: What is Christmas to you?

Cura: I come from a Catholic family, and Christmas is for us an important date. I think today’s celebrations with its strong symbolism is very important. Individualism is strong today, and Christmas is a day on which all at the same time are thinking the same way. We should exploit that and send a message of peace, love, send a dialogue. That is something we have lost today. We no longer speak with each other, but rather send SMS. We are not even talking on the telephone with each other because it means a direct confrontation. If you send someone to hell, you send an SMS. At Christmas at least give all at the same time a kiss. If we succeed in bringing that into everyday life, then this festival means more than mere folklore. We do not need more folklore.

Philanthropic Cura

 Népszabadság

 Katalin Szemere

06 February 2008

The tenor-conductor  is taking the baton at a charity concert

He is marketed as the Maradona of the opera world, as the big name of the new generation after the era of the “Three Tenors”. José Cura, the Argentinian tenor doesn’t care…He would describe himself as an artist without compromises. This evening the tenor-conductor is taking the baton at a charity concert of the Salva Vita Foundation at the Music Hall in Budapest and next time he is going to sing in Szeged.

We got to the Cultural Centre - the venue of the rehearsals in the outskirts of Budapest - at the same time as José Cura.

“What brought you here?” he asks smiling, as he sees the photographer. He shakes my hand and gives me a hug. Kisses me on both cheeks, as we have been friends for ages.  Actually, considering the number of his visits to Hungary we could have met several times before.

“Well… I’ve been here five or six times in eight years… this is not that much!”

Journalists aren’t his favourites, but he successfully hides his dislike behind his funny-macho façade. “Anyway, are you the interpreter?” he turns to the woman next to him at the press conference and adds sarcastically, “"I didn't know who this crazy woman who's talking to me was".

He seems deeply immersed in his thoughts during the opening speech, in which he is greeted at the 15^th anniversary of the Salva Vita Foundation on 6^th February with a charity concert. The foundation offers a broad variety of different vocational and job opportunities for the mentally disabled, to help them find their place in society. 

When he is asked why he is here, he doesn’t hesitate with the answer. “The attitude of the foundation is what caught me. Instead of crying their eyes out, Salva Vita sets its heart to support the handicapped with different employment services.”

In comparison, he brings up his godson’s case, who was born with Down’s syndrome. “Having discussed his future with his parents, we came to the conclusion that he doesn’t need a special school, just an ordinary high-standard school that would serve his best interests.”

Nevertheless, instead of setting up a Down Syndrome Research Foundation he is the founder and Honourable President of the Leukaemia Foundation in Portugal.

“There is no one with leukaemia in my family but that isn’t necessary to want to help,” he says at the interview. ”One doesn’t give a thought to illness until one doesn’t need to face it. Anyway, charity is a sensitive issue, with plenty of unscrupulous operators getting involved. As far as I’m concerned—before saying yes—I need to be a hundred percent sure about the credibility of the foundation and that the money goes to the right place.” This time José’s friends, Nora Czoboly–the President of Salva Vita—and her husband, who have been keeping an eye on its activity for years, were the guarantee.

He is pretty sure that his Requiem interpretation will take the audience by surprise and it will ruffle feathers among the critics. He doesn’t care; pleasing everyone has never been on the agenda for him.  Actually, he believes he sees eye to eye with Verdi on this piece. According to José’s point of view this is not a slow-moving, mournful requiem but powerful, brisk, provocative, demanding music which even had the nerve to challenge God.  When he started to analyse the piece his instinct told him he had to approach the music this way, which later was vindicated by one of Verdi’s letters on the issue.

A loud knock on the door, a signal which suggests that “our time is up within 35 seconds,” he says casually rocking on his chair. Guess what, precisely by this time we have his answer to our last question!

“Although I’ve had Otello on my repertoire for 11 years, I haven’t had too many performances yet. Last time I sang it in 2006. I’m on friendly terms with the Symphonic Orchestra of Szeged and I’ve already been on stage during the Szeged Open Air Festival. Why would I not accept their invitation? To tell you the truth, I’m completely in the dark about director Ferenc Anger’s ideas. I’m going to meet him now. Give me a call on Wednesday and I’ll tell you!”

THE PROFESSIONAL

Népszava Online

12February 2008

Katalin Lévay

(Representative of the European Parliament)

Translated by Melinda Birtók

The music’s last tunes are gradually dying away. There is a man on the podium, wearing a black silk shirt and black trousers, with his back to the audience of the Music Hall. His right hand holds up the scarlet red front cover of the score of Verdi’s Requiem.

Have a look at the piece of the Divine Maestro! He is the One, the unsurpassable! Do celebrate Him!

He gives us time to enjoy the miracle for a while, and puts back the score on the music stand.

With a wave of his hand he gets the huge chorus to stand first, and a bit later he does the same with the orchestra, giving way to a one by one introduction of the trombonists, the drummers, and the violinists.

The enthusiasm of the audience keeps rising to its height when he introduces the soloists, who –in gratitude for the acclamation—show the new spiritual beauty of their face.

Eventually—as a reward for our long waiting—José Cura also faces us.

Quite a few might know Verdi better than Maestro Cura, the superstar, the gifted showman, and musician who has been leading both the orchestra and his audience with irresistible power and suggestiveness for 90 minutes.  He made his name as a singer but this time the Hungarian audience caught a glimpse of his other side.

José Cura. He hugs Verdi’s score to his breast with complete devotion.

It’s common knowledge that the audience of the Hungarian Music Hall is a sensitive expert and blessed with a good ear for music, but they also have a tendency for misdemeanour.

The cracking noise of dilapidated chairs, mind-shaking sneezes during the intervals between the movements, tiny snorts, fidgeting, suppressed coughs were always part of every, however remarkable, production.  Even if it was a masterpiece of the music literature interpreted by any number of big name musician, I have not had the luck to attend a concert without these annoying distractions.

On this occasion, there aren’t any whatsoever.

The good old Music Hall is packed to full capacity—approximately a thousand spectators turn up—and José Cura treats both his listeners and the orchestra masterfully.

Even a whisper does not break the silence between the movements.

Heavy, almost palpable the silence in the auditorium, before the sounds of the dark, pulsating, powerful, and passionate music chills us to the bone, and he puts us completely under his spell. The chorus fills the air with powerful and clear tunes, the trombonists are unique, the soloists—Ildikó Cserna, Andrea Ulbrich, István Kovácsházi, Gábor Bretz—offer an outstanding performance.

José Cura’s unique style can conquer new generations. The classical music, which has been traditionally appreciated by a relatively narrow circle of the elder generation, might become amiable through this passionate conductor, who is also the embodiment of a ballet dancer.

All of his gestures are exquisitely polished, he performs a thoughtful, and professional choreography, mixing his fascinating motions with unsurpassed intensity.

 His body is of an Iron Man’s.

His unorthodox gestures - index finger, high up to the sky, throughout the climax of the music, irrationally long pauses between the movements, body, suggesting the rigidness of a sculpture, embracing arms in the course of the adagio - are being engraved on your heart.

Although his style is considered unusual in classical music society, this approach is well known in contemporary dance circles.

Finishing with the last accords, he produces a consciously composed sigh, which is audible even in the last row.  The pleasure of shared experience fills the air. Cura leaves nothing to chance, improvisation is not part of his arsenal.

 He is a real pro, which hopefully does not prevent him from taking pleasure in his work!

Anyway, who cares what he feels, who cares about the lack of spontaneity, more striking was the impression he produced upon us!!!

***

Excerpt, Review of Charity Concert for Salva Vita by Fáy Miklós for Népszabadság, 12 February 2008:

For a long time I tried not to blame the guest. Strange that he should greet me from the podium like the host of some social event evening, but why shouldn't he? Strange that the chorus should belt out Te Decet like a covered song-arena, but long live originality. Cura's tempos are odd at times, the music sounds rather angular, but then I think it's done out of necessity. The choir and the Danubia Orchestra are weak and sometimes can only produce some quite dreadful runs; if the conductor tries to stir up nuances with this crude musicianship, he would fall on his head… So Cura only tries to save what is salvageable by rushing through the work with verve rather than polish, finding only the essence.

For an hour and a half, the singers yell at the top of their voices, the orchestra and choir try to outdo each other, the piece becomes one-plane, and the one-plane is really flat. Instead of the meaning, José Cura instead lifts the score during the applause and stands in a dramatic pose.  You just want to slap him on the back of the head:  this is too monumental a work to turn into monkey business.

***

Dear Mr. Fáy,

I would never dare to argue against your critic's point of view because, even if you DON'T have the right to ignore Verdi's wanted tempi by establishing a judgment based only on your experience as a recording listener, you certainly YES have the right to disagree with Verdi's intentions. After all, he was only the composer...

I personally want to thank you because you have, even if by doing a great effort, approved my greetings to the audience. You know, this was not an ordinary "black tie" evening but a concert aimed to awake the conscience of people towards Salva Vita. It is in that spirit that I salute the audience meaning to thank them for supporting us. By the way, you were also among the audience so my thanks goes to you, too.

As said, then, I will not discuss your professional analysis. However, allow me to express some thoughts regarding your other concepts:

1) That the orchestra is weak. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that the orchestra is young. Young and full of energies and hopes and wish to grow and to become, I promise you, one of Hungary's finest orchestras soon. Their right to be yet not mature is a not a shame. What is a shame, Mr Fáy, is that a mature person like yourself cannot understand it.

2) That the choir was shouting sometimes. Well, it is not an easy thing (being a very refined still amateur choir) to match the necessary sound of Verdi's orchestration, intended for a professional opera choir. This extremely well prepared group, wanting to give their contribution to our charity, stood up to the challenge by giving their best. And even when sometimes their enthusiasm drove them to sing beyond their usual type of forte (which may have turned in a little loss of quality), such "shouting" as you intended succeeded in its goal: Calls from people wanting to help Salva Vita in which ever possible way are constantly multiplying since then. Allow me to say, some people need to be shouted [at] to react. God bless them.

3) That my attitude by raising the score was "dramatic" (meaning what, dear sir?): One of the biggest lessons my conducting teacher taught me (27 years ago. Yes 27! Even if you seem to be the only one who thinks I am a capricious tenor wanting to conduct, I only started to sing 15 years ago...) is that the very first applause is for the composer. Verdi, in this case, the same Verdi who's tempi you don't approve...

4) About the monkey's parade. You know that such a comment may well give us the chance to sue you... Do not worry, we have really a lot of better things to do...

Concluding: I truly wish, from the bottom of my heart, that nobody in your family may ever be reached by any kind of handicap. It is, I speak by direct knowledge, a very difficult thing to handle and you may well need the help of a foundation like Salva Vita to sort it out. I am sure that in such case you would be very happy to become a monkey, too.

Yours,

Jose Cura (Official conductor but semi-official writer)

Like a wild bull

Berlin MorgenPost

9 March 2008

Volker Tarnow

[Computer-assisted translation]

Star tenor José Cura introduces himself as conductor tomorrow at the Deutsche Oper

On stage, he exudes the slightly menacing aura of an Argentine bull. He fills every house with his personality as a singer, offering crazy bursts of power but also character portraits of touching fragility. José Cura is one of the most powerfully-voiced, sought-after tenors of our time; his portrayals of Otello, Samson and Canio from Leoncavallo's "Pagliacci" are among the most impressive currently available on the great stages of both hemispheres. Cura has a significant place in the big, intimidating format of singing and dramatic art in the 21^st century.

Nevertheless, this man is not to be feared. In private, he is affable and the orchestra of the Deutsche Oper is experiencing him these days as an obliging, always collegial conductor. As what? You read that correctly: as a conductor. Because that's his real profession, that's what he studied seriously, just like composing, before his voice pushed everything else aside. "During my studies, my teacher told me you should sing to become a better conductor.  At the time I was naturally very offended by that. Today, I would recommend the same to many."

The transition to the stage came easily

The move from the podium to the stage came easily to Cura - and yet sprang primarily from sheer survival instinct. "There were difficult years in Argentina at the time," recalls the tenor, "In 1983 we had our first elections, the whole country was in a very delicate social balance. To start working as a musician in such a scenario was almost impossible." Cura opted to sing, going to Italy in 1991. It took him less than ten years to reach the top—but he didn't forget his original vocation. When he was in London in 1998, conducting and singing a CD of arias, the musicians of the Philharmonia Orchestra asked him why he didn't pick up the baton more often. Since then, Cura has devoted himself increasingly to conducting. He makes guest appearances with orchestras as often as his tenor schedule allows.

"The most important thing you can teach an orchestra is the necessity of phrasing, of breathing." Collective breathing, mind you. Team-work is everything to him; he thinks little of the conducting gods. Certainly, they could obtain aesthetically marvelous results, but the human factor remained distant, their music did not go to the heart. José Cura is undoubtedly an emotional orchestra conductor but he is nevertheless concerned with analytical subtleties. In Rachmaninoff's 2nd Symphony, one of his favorites, he attaches great importance to differentiated dynamics. The Second may be very sexy, but it is far from being a pop song!

The Argentinean Cura has Spanish-Arab ancestors; he lives with his wife in Madrid. A happy man, he experiences his profession as a perpetual recreational vacation. "When I conduct orchestras, it's a vacation for the tenor; when I sing, it's a vacation for the conductor." In May, he stages Verdi’s Masked Ball in Cologne.  As a composer, he emerged in 1984 with a requiem for the dead of the Falklands War and has written a Stabat mater and Argentine songs.

Opera lovers need not panic, however; the stage remains the priority. "I want to keep singing as long as I can sing decently." He does not plan to become a second Placido Domingo, for ordinary mortals stop singing around sixty. Comforting news - Cura is only forty-five years old. At the Deutsche Opera Berlin, we can look forward to experiencing him in a new Otello in 2010.   And occasionally, in between the singing, as an accomplished conductor of Rachmaninoff and Respighi. Whether he lets the bull out in the encore remains to be seen.