Carmen 2004

Carmen Seoul - May 2004

Tenor José Cura comes to Korea

Donga

Yoon-Jong Yoo

12 April 2004

[Note: although this interview was published in English in the Korean press, we believe there is an issue in translation; for example, few would say Franco Corelli's voice was stiff and Mario del Monaco's was rude. We are presenting it as it was presented in the article but ....]

Cura, a 42-year-old Argentine tenor, is regarded as one of new stars following the Big Three – Pavarotti, Domingo, and Carreras.

Cura stars as Don José in Carmen, which will be performed in Jamsil Olympic Stadium from May 15 to 19. We had an email interview with him about one month before the performance.

- Nice to meet you. A music magazine once wrote your voice has stiffness of Franco Corelli as well as rudeness of Mario del Monaco, tenors of the 1960s. That sounds like you’re a dramatico (dramatic) tenor, who plays the roles of hero or villain, which is quite rare these days...

JC: My voice is that of spinto-dramatico to be specific. That’s why most of the roles I played were title roles of Otello or Don José in Carmen. Interestingly, most of the roles I played in the opera ended up killing someone.

- This time, Carmen is the production of Gian-Carlo del Monaco, son of tenor Mario del Monaco.

JC: It is the first time I work with him. Regardless of who his father is, he is a great director, particularly of Carmen. I’m looking forward to working with him.

- There’s a controversy over the performance of an opera on an open-air stage in Korea. Some say it contributes to getting closer to the public while others say it fails to give the real taste of the opera....

JC: This is my first performance on a big stage with 40,000 audience members. I am not Mick Jagger. I hope my real voice can be delivered to the audience even with the use of a microphone. If such problems are resolved, I think an open-air stage would be exciting for the audience.

- What do you think about Don José in Carmen?

JC: I don’t want to disappoint others, but I think he is not a romantic but a murderer, a psycho. He didn’t kill Carmen because he loved her. He killed her because she insulted him in front of other people.

- You have also produced recordings such as Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony conducting the Sinfonia Varsovia to favorable reviews.

JC: I began conducting at the age of 15 and became a tenor at 30, so I can’t separate myself from conducting. I have plans to conduct operas such as Verdi’s Un ballo in maschera before performing in Korea. I will continue to do both in the future.

Sights and Sounds of Seville to Hit Seoul

Korean Herald

10 May 2004

An upcoming production of the opera classic Carmen will give Seoul audiences a chance to experience a hot Andalusian night at the Jamsil Olympic Stadium this month.

The outdoor opera, featuring a life-size bull ring and one of opera's sensational stars, promises to be a solid example of the "bigger is better" philosophy. Carmen will be performed at the Olympic Stadium at Jamsil Sports Complex from May 15-19 and will star tenor Jose Cura and mezzo-soprano Elena Zaremba.

With the approach of warm weather, Carmen is continuing last year's new trend of bringing opera to some of Seoul's largest outdoor sports venues. A successful run of Puccini's Turandot last May at the World Cup Stadium was followed by Aida in the fall, which was deemed a huge artistic and commercial failure. La Boheme, billed as a Christmas season classic, received mixed reviews last December.

It has come as no surprise that the upcoming Carmen, with a reported budget of about 7 billion won, has raised a few weary eyebrows concerning its artistic credibility and financial viability.

A representative of Benex Art & Culture, a local performing arts management company, reported "strong" ticket sales, with the bulk of the tickets sold to corporate sponsors. "Everything is going as scheduled. The sets are almost complete and the stars will be flying in for rehearsals next week," the official said.

Ticket prices are similar to those introduced last year, with stadium seats starting at 50,000 won and some orchestra-level seats fetching up to 600,000 won.

The production is headed by Gian-Carlo del Monaco, a highly regarded Italian stage director whose productions of several Puccini operas have been staged at the Met. Through a 140-meter-long stage and a video screen the size of a football field, del Monaco hopes to recreate the sights and sounds of 19th-century Seville.

Among the performers will be 50 dancers from Ballet Antologia, a flamenco dance troupe from Spain. Original plans also included staging a real, live bullfight, but logistics and protests from animal rights groups made that impossible.

Most important of all, Carmen boasts top operatic talents such as Argentine tenor Jose Cura and Russian mezzo Elena Zaremba playing the title role. Rounding out the casts are baritone Franck Ferrari, playing the role of Escamillo, and soprano Maya Dashuk singing the part of Micaela.

Cura, one of the best-known tenors of his generation, will make his Seoul debut as Don Jose. At 33, the former protege of Placido Domingo has earned the distinction as one of the next "Three Tenors," widely praised for a rare combination of vocal talent, dramatic sensibilities and musical taste.

Carmen is a story of a tempestuous Gypsy woman who chooses to die rather than be a slave to any man or destiny. The man who loves her is Don Jose, an army officer who throws away everything only to push them both to the edge of madness and death. In the final act, Don Jose pleads with her to run away and live together with him forever, but Carmen proclaims that she was "born free and will die free." As Carmen leaves to see her new lover, Don Jose stabs her and confesses to the murder of the woman he once loved.

The opera was written by French composer Georges Bizet, which featured many stylized depictions of Spanish and Gypsy folk melodies and rhythms, popular in French music at that time. The opera was first performed in 1875, but its unconventional heroine and themes conflicted with the bourgeois morality of the times, and it was not until later that it became one of the most popular operas of all time.

Carmen will be performed May 15, 16, 18 and 19 at 7:30 p.m. at the Olympic Stadium at Jamsil Sports Complex.

Carmen Stages Largest Outdoor Show in Korea

International Spouses of Koreans Association

8 May 2004

[Excerpts]

Carmen, the story of a gypsy who dies at the hands of her former lover, is scheduled to run in May at Seoul's Olympic Stadium. The opera has been seen by millions worldwide, but its director promises this will be different from previous productions.

The show will be performed outdoors and will be the largest of open-air operas in Korea, yet. The stage at 100 meters in length and 20 meters wide should impress the casual attendee. The state-of-the-art large screens can show the performer's tiniest gestures. To prevent sounds from colliding, the production team will set up the latest equipment on various parts the stage. And the seats are 20 percent closer to the stage compared to previous outdoor operas in Korea.

Their original plan was to have a real bull in the ring on stage but logistical difficulties of flying in a live bull and having it anesthetized to appear dead, and strong protests from animal rights activists, prevented the production team from going ahead. Instead, Seoul audiences will see the bullfighting scene projected on a large screen.

Fifty dancers from Ballet Antologia will perform the Flamenco dance wearing brightly colored 19th century costumes. Celebrated tenor José Cura and mezzo soprano Elena Zaremba will play the hero and heroine.

"José Cura is a dramatic tenor. He is a vocalist and actor at the same time. With this merit, he can fully represent Don José, the charismatic and stormy hero," said director Gian Carlo del Marco, 50, at a news conference held in Madrid last week.

"Who is Carmen? Is she a whore? No. For me, Carmen is the most passionate woman with free spirit that is not restricted to the social customs in the men-oriented society," said del Monaco, "Why Carmen has been loved by so many people is that she lived a short but brilliant life and met a dramatic death."

Though he is a successful director, del Monaco, nevertheless, is also subjected to harsh criticism. However, he said he is not afraid of the critics. "Though 90 percent of critics attacked Maria Callas' performance and only one out of 10 praised her songs when she was alive, now nobody can deny that she was a marvelous vocalist," he said with a smile. "Whenever I am criticized, I am highly motivated."

According to him, Carmen will mark a turning point of imported outdoor operas in Korea. Aida, which was brought to Seoul last September, was a venture that failed financially.

"When you begin something, you cannot avoid failure. However, if you evade it, you cannot overcome it, either. I want Carmen to be the turning point of Korean operas overcoming former failures," he added.

Eye-Witness Review!

José Cura As Don José Made His Impressive and Successful Seoul Debut

Hyunjoo

Carmen, the world’s most beloved opera of seduction and betrayal, continued last year’s new trend of bringing opera to some of Seoul’s largest outdoor sports venues: A successful run of Puccini’s “Turandot” last May at the World Cup Stadium was followed by “Aida” in the fall, which was deemed a huge artistic and commercial failure. Experienced from the previous operas, there had been anxiety about this $600,000 budget opera concerning its artistic credibility and financial viability. However, in a word, it turned out to be an exemplary event in both respects.

It was the very production that showed a large outdoor opera’s possible advantages. The production is headed by Gian-Carlo del Monaco, son of the famous tenor Mario del Monaco, and he seems to study a lot about the venue to solve problems that huge scale outdoor operas inevitably face. Through a 140m long stage and a 100m*20m size video screen above the stage, del Monaco certainly represented the performance effectively for 40,000 audiences; the screen successfully caught subtle expressions of the actors/actresses. The stage was filled with 550 performers and splendid lightings. 50 dancers from Ballet Antologia, a flamenco dance troupe from Spain recreated the exotic and passionate mood of 19^th century Seville in the air. Original plan also included staging a real, live bullfight, but logistics and protests from animal rights groups made that impossible.

The performance as a whole was captivating.

No doubt that the star of the night was José Cura, the most promising tenor of his generation. His acting at Act 1 was not really natural but his rich voice at least offset the weakness in acting. On everybody’s expectation of the night, La Fleur que tu m’avais jetée at Act 2, José Cura proved himself to be equivalent to his fame. His dramatic and passionate song made the audiences who were rather inattentive all through the opera stunned into silence. At the climax of the song, I had goose bumps all over me, listening to that strong, yet touching voice. I felt that some part of me hidden somewhere deep inside me, suddenly was awakened: It was literally a breath-taking moment.

Our next star was soprano Maya Dashuk, Micaela. She also deserves an accolade. Her voice was both true and appealing. Just like her character who devoted her heart to Don José, her crystal clear and beautiful voice, a good contrast to Carmen’s sultry tones, impressed not only Don José but also audience. Her Act 1 duet with Don José was a real treat to hear.

However, Elena Zaremba, Carmen could have sung out a little more. Admittedly, for much of Act 1 she was not quite at her peak – she always seemed a little constrained. (her Habanera was one of the worst I have ever heard, to be honest. Not really my personal type.) But as the performance went on, her voice seemed to warm the stage and when singing of her fate dealt by the cards in Act 3, she gave a moving performance. In addition, her acting was a rare excellence which could convince people that she was an expert Carmen. She was truly a voluptuous temptress, teasing and seducing every man in sight waving her skirts and wrapping her legs around Don José.

Franck Ferrari played fairly good as a self-confident, arrogant Escamillo. His assured performance led the most famous aria of the opera Votre toast, je peux vous le vendre to be a little loose, which caused difficulty in keeping time with the orchestra for a minute. However, his performance was good enough to win Carmen by Act 4.

Daniele Tramontani should be highly praised for making the surprisingly fine sound system that brought each note clearly to our ears. It was way beyond my expectation to hear this fine quality of sound in an open stadium.

Personally I dreamed of enjoying opera under the starry night sky, but the weather was pretty unfavorable from early in the morning: it rained until around noon and was very cloudy and windy. Fortunately, though my dream could come true, the rain stopped and we could see the marvelous performance. The sky got clearer as the performance progressed, so we could see a couple of bright stars right above the stage, and there even was a flashy shooting star in the middle of the intermission which caused exclamation and aroused the mood.

The only miss was a good chorus and intense concentration of the audience. The chilly wind was harsh for the people sitting in the stadium for 3 and a half hours. There were actually some people who left the site in the middle of the performance because of the cold weather, but many more kept their seats until the end – to my surprise, many of them were children, and they were totally absorbed in the opera!! The production received warm and friendly applause and reviews from both audience and press.

The Spectacle

16 June 2004, Wednesday, 7-10.30 p.m. (Moniuszko Auditorium)

Opera in four acts
Premiere of this production - 30 September 1995
In the original French

Conductor - José Maria Florencio Júnior
Director - Lech Majewski
Set Designer - Janusz Kapusta
Costume Designer - Hanna Bakuła
Choreography - Janina Niesobska
Chorus Master - Bogdan Gola

Cast:

Ekaterina Semenchuk (Carmen), José Cura (Don José), Mikołaj Zalasiński (Escamillo), Izabella Kłosińska (Micaëla), Artur Ruciński (Dancairo), Krzysztof Szmyt (Remendado), Jacek Janiszewski (Zuniga), Robert Dymowski (Morales), Anna Lubańska (Frasquita), Anna Karasińska (Mercedes)

Chorus, Ballet and Orchestra of the National Opera

“Carmen” is one of the most popular operatic works in the world, due to its extraordinarily colourful music, lively temperament and special Spanish “exoticism”, the artistry and elegance of its texture, its brilliance and splendour, combined with an excellent libretto. The music contains the best qualities of the French opera style, though some Italian influences are also present. This opera enjoys a permanent place in the repertoire of nearly all opera theatres around the world, it includes many popular arias, and is warmly applauded by audiences everywhere.

JOSÉ CURA and EKATERINA SEMENCHUK in "CARMEN"

Once again we will have the pleasure of seeing the famous opera singer, José Cura, at the Teatr Wielki – National Opera. He conducted the Warsaw production of “Madame Butterfly” in April, and will now be singing the part of Don José in Lech Majewski’s production of “Carmen”.

José Cura first became famous for his rendition of the title role in Verdi’s “Otello”. After his performance in Turin in 1997, where he sang with the Berlin Philharmonic conducted by Claudio Abbado, the critics wrote in rapture: “A new Otello is born!” In 2000, the whole world could admire the Argentinean singer in a television version of “La Traviata”. He was dubbed “the fourth tenor.”

He gained huge popularity in Poland thanks to the release of the CD Era of Love, where he sings with the Polish soprano, Ewa Małas-Godlewska. During a concert promoting the record in November 2000, José Cura made his first appearance as a conductor before a Polish audience. That was the first time we saw him at the Teatr Wielki – National Opera. Exactly two years later, he accepted an invitation from the Warsaw theatre’s management to sing the part of Otello in the opera by Verdi. The performance, conducted by Jacek Kaspszyk, took place on 13 November 2002 before a full house. Apart from Cura as the star of the evening, the performance featured the Teatr Wielki’s leading soloists – Izabella Kłosińska, Anna Lubańska and Adam Kruszewski. This collaboration resulted in a joint visit to Japan in 2003, where the Warsaw production of “Otello” was highly acclaimed by audiences and critics alike.

Singing the part of Carmen will be Ekaterina Semenchuk, a young soloist of the Maryinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg – her first ever appearance in Poland. She studied at the Belarusian Academy of Music, the St. Petersburg Conservatory, and subsequently continued her vocal studies at the Maryinsky Theatre’s Academy of Young Singers. She is a prize-winner of international competitions, including the Placido Domingo Competition in Los Angeles. She has received great praise from critics world-wide for her interpretation of such parts as Carmen, Olga in Tchaikovsky’s “Eugene Onegin”, and Sonya in Prokofiev’s “War and Peace”. In this last part, she could recently be seen at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, where she was acclaimed by the U.S. audience and critics. Together with the Maryinsky Theatre, she has performed in China, the United Kingdom (Covent Garden), Germany, Spain, Argentina, Austria (Salzburg Festival). She has also given recitals in Germany, France, the United Kingdom and Argentina.

José Cura as Don José in Warsaw's Carmen

Encyklopedia teatru polskiego

Jacek Marczyński

17 June 2004

[Computer-assisted Translation // Excerpts]

Only at moments did a great opera at last night's performance at the National Opera get a whiff of great art. And this was not just the fault of the Warsaw audience, which reacted with more lively applause to the appearance of real horses on stage than to the evening's hero: José Cura.

The famous tenor performed in a great role and in an opera that audiences love. As Don José in Bizet's Carmen, he showed that he has a beautiful, strong, and resonant voice that it is always heard perfectly. But at the same time, after yesterday's performance, it is easier to understand why the world is less delighted with him than a few years ago. He remains a singer whose talent trumps technique. José Cura dazzled early. Today, ten years on, the sudden breaks of sounds, the sometimes strange approach to the upper notes and a certain nonchalance in interpretation begin to irritate. One expects more from a mature artist.

Not to sound excessively negative, I must add that he had moments of great artistry, for example in the finale of the third act, portraying the drama of Don José, torn between his filial duty and his love for the unfaithful Carmen. But he was also surprisingly bland in terms of acting in many moments, and visually he was most effective in a black T-shirt during his amorous one-on-one with his beloved.

His partner Ekaterina Semenchuk had more stage presence, with a velvety voice and, most importantly, excellent technique. And yet she also lacked expressiveness - for example during a love quarrel with Don José in the second act.

Perhaps both of them would have presented themselves more interestingly in a different staging, but the Warsaw production was already dramaturgically dead on its premiere nine years ago. This season it underwent some refreshing treatments, but they mainly concerned the musical layer. The title character of Carmen has finally been given a gypsy-smuggling quartet. There are also two national stars in the cast. The first is Mikolaj Zalasinski (Escamillo), although he shouldn't have to wander around the stave for half of the toreador's aria before finally hitting the right notes. The second is Izabella Klosinska, who in turn, after years of singing the part of Micaela, should abandon it to colleagues with softer and lighter voices.

Yesterday's evening full of world and national celebrities, however, makes us realize something important. In opera, if we want to treat it as a true art, the time of guest artists coming to the stage for one or two performances without a proper rehearsal is over. Opera today is a theater in which no less important than beautiful voices are real human characters, the complex relationships between them, the growing tension. In this Carmen, fthis is what was missing the most.

Flower Song Excerpt

Rijeka Concert July 06 - Carmen Flower Song

Seguilla Excerpt

Rijeka Concert July 06 - Carmen Seguilla

Male Callas Sings at the National Opera

Radio Romania Musical

Mihaela Soare

8 September 2007

[Computer-assisted Translation // Excerpt]

One of the most highly rated tenors of the moment, José Cura, will perform this evening in Bizet’s Carmen at the National Opera.

With the physique of a true gladiator, 45-year-old Argentinian José Cura has been called by the international press a "theater animal, a male version of Maria Callas."

Tonight's performance is expected to be one of the major events of the current edition of the George Enescu Festival.

RRM: Some of the partners you sing with in Bucharest are Romanian and you don't know them yet. How comfortable is this?

José Cura: It can be difficult, really, but we are lucky in one respect: we have a common language, and that is music. That allows us to communicate very easily even if we don't speak the same language or we don't have the same habits, the same tastes, even if we have different personalities. But when we are on stage, we play the same music, we become the same group. That's what's great about making music.

RRM: You don't like being compared to other tenors. But will the "male version of Callas" satisfy you more?

José Cura: Of course, it is another way to compare individuals. It's not comparing voices, which is something... stupid…but accessibility for the stage. This is something very different and it makes me happy.

RRM: What do you tell the young people at the masterclass courses you give? What are the most important things, in a good or bad sense, to expect?

José Cura: First of all, to respect the truth, in this sense to evolve. There is nothing worse for an artist than to be fake in a performance. If you don't present yourself with a true sense of the reality of your feelings, nobody sees you. You can have the best technique, the most beautiful voice, but nothing will happen.

RRM: The audience wants a great artist to always be perfect. How difficult is it to meet such a demand?

José Cura: It's impossible to meet it, that's part of the challenge. The good thing, in my case, is that I have never been perfect but I am always deeply committed. It's true that people expect a lot from you because you're famous and every time you're on stage they want you to be the best. But this is not always possible, because we are human beings!

During José Cura's stay in Bucharest for the National Theater's production of Carmen, Luciano Pavarotti passed away. Cura joined with the rest of the musical family to pay tribute to the great tenor. Cura joined Christoph Eschenbach at the Sala Pala prior to the conductor's concert to lead the audience in a moment of silence.

There was an enormous hush as the great tenor's jovial face was projected on the walls of the hall. Then, at Cura's prompting ("this is about an artist, and the artist likes nothing better than applause") we all, audience, orchestra, Eschenbach and Cura, applauded frantically, with a tear in the corner of our eyes

"Now he sings to God," Cura said, adding that "God was seeking an angel to sing, and now found the best voice." (note: this is a computer-generated translation)

Jose Cura: "The music market is like a supermarket, and we are like toothpaste"

Cotidianul

Cristiana Visan

8 September 2007

[Computer-assisted translation // Excerpts]

During a press conference held before the performance of Carmen on Saturday night, Jose Cura stated that he did not know much about the Enescu Festival and invited Romanians to do better in promoting their values.

He is considered the most electrifying tenor of the moment. He climbed the hierarchy of singers in vogue rather quickly and the theater marketing teams in the major cultural metropolises were quick to promote him as the new sex symbol of the opera stage. He is one of the few opera singers whose admirers number in the millions - in Cura's particular case, we are talking about a gallery with an overwhelming majority of female fans. On his first day of rehearsals in Bucharest, the tenor agreed to take part in a press briefing, avoiding as much as possible (like many other stars with a busy schedule) the possible tiring [one-on-one] interviews. Even with all of Cura’s fame, the organizers did not expect journalists to storm the yellow foyer of the National Opera, where the meeting with the tenor was scheduled. But calculations made well in advance do not always match the progress of the news and it happened that Thursday was not a day like any other but the day when the death of the most popular tenor of the last 15 years entered the world news. As a result, there was a slightly larger media audience for the talk.

However, Cura surprised both the organizers and the journalists by announcing at the last minute that he would be accompanied by the soprano Hadar Halevy, who plays the role of Carmen, and the conductor Mario de Rose. "Does anyone have their biographies? What should we do?" a couple of younger voices were heard, concerned that they had been prepared only to face a single star. "And what about the translation?" asked those were not so young, having just been told that English had been declared the reference language for the discussion. There was not much time left to adjust, however, since Cura was already making his appearance in the lobby of the Opera House, having just come out of an interview with national television. According to some he is taller than his pictures suggest while he is shorter according to others. In any case, no one has ever tried to pigeon-hole Cura’s ethnicity by description: mathematically, he is 25% Italian, 25% Spanish and 50% Lebanese, but for him all that matters is the country of his birth, Argentina.

The conference finally begins as people take their seats in the hall with their eyes on the three foreign artists and Catalin Ionescu-Arbore, the director of the Bucharest Opera House. The first words belongs to Valentina Sandu-Dediu, head of the festival's Press Office, who asks for a moment of silence in Pavarotti's memory: a silence of honor, accompanied by the creaking of the floor as several photographers scramble about, trying to capture the solemn expressions on the faces of those present.

As expected, the first question comes with a slight delay as the media jostle with each other to take the floor, but it not a surprise question at all: what was Pavarotti like? The question itself does not catch the tenor by surprise but the fact that it is the first topic of the meeting does not seem to make him too happy: yes, it is a sad day for the artistic community, but we must be careful not to use Luciano just to make news. "As a man, as a human being, I am happy that his suffering has come to an end. My wife's mother and a good friend have also died from this relentless disease." As a more metaphorical declaration was still awaited, Cura played his role well: "If God wanted an angel, now he has one of the best voices singing for him." Period. No more Pavarotti. A change of language follows: he switches to Spanish, much to the displeasure of many in the audience. Cura answers calmly: if he speaks his native language, he has the reputation of answering questions with the accent used by the interlocutor. In this case, one as Spanish as possible: yes, it's his first time in Romania and he hopes it won't be the last and no, he hasn’t had a chance to see Bucharest - after all, it's the first day of rehearsals and the day of Pavarotti's death, so it wasn’t an auspicious day for "a walk around the city." No, he does not know all the artists with whom he will perform: of course he knew the conductor, his compatriot, but he had just met the wonderful soprano here for the first time.

The next interlocutor made another change of language, addressing him in Italian (more sighs in the hall). Cura immediately answered him about artists who dare to go on tours: they aren’t many, because not everyone can, and when they do it because it is because it is with a well-known work. Even he would never go on the road with a new role. He has been familiar with Carmen for over twenty years, since he debuted as a conductor in Argentina with this opera until 1996, when he made his European debut as Don José. "I know all the parts. I can arrive five minutes before the performance, walk on stage and immediately start playing Don José." Cura believes in the strength of the character and less in the need to adapt to new venues and casts: "On a normal stage, you just won't come across a flying saucer or I don't know what other crazy stuff, so you don't have to do anything more than to get into your role, to become the character." He doesn't even believe in the need to fine-tune thing during rehearsals: "If in my 30-year career I did everything the same way, I'd be a mess by now."

Cura is a performer and it shows: this time, the stage is a press conference and he's immediately into his role. Art, after all, is still a business, as he says: "The music market is like a supermarket and we are like toothpaste. Some of us are more in demand than others because some toothpastes are better than others." He didn't know much about Enescu before he was invited to this year's edition: of course, we're not talking about the composer, but about the festival. Holender is a friend of his and gladly accepted the offer to come to Bucharest, but he doesn't drop the ball and gives the Romanian journalists a good line: "This means you have to make your festival more international; you have good musicians. Make them known."

It's hard not to like him: he has charisma, an astonishing Latin ease that allows him to talk about anything. He doesn't believe in friendships between tenors: they do exist, of course, as he's also friends with Marcelo Alvarez, a fellow Argentinian, and Roberto Alagna. "With Marcelo we go out sometimes, we eat like pigs and drink, although he outdoes me, but that's it, we're Argentinians and when it comes to meat and good wine..." So there are friends like Pavarotti-Domingo-Carreras even among young tenors? Friendships are personal, but music is a profession: "We are all colleagues. You can't be the enemy of the soldiers in your camp but the press sometimes creates a theoretical antagonism to sell more. It sells better to say that José Cura hates Alvarez, Alvarez hates Alagna, than to say that they are good colleagues.”

He considers himself more a conductor and composer than a singer. He studied that for years before he realized he had a good voice and that it would be much easier for him to earn a place of honor as a tenor. I ask him what he did with the Peace Requiem, composed some twenty years ago, after the end of the Falklands War, in which he was about to be drafted. "I should have premiered it in 2007, 24 years after the end of the war, but I couldn't find any Argentinean institution willing to support me.” Romanians would say: "typical." No problem, the Argentinians say the same thing, and their patriotic self-criticism is outweighed only by the pride of losing an absurd conflict: Cura wants to stage an opera with two choirs, one British and one Argentinian. Easy to say, hard to do: the wounds of the war have long since healed, but they still sting - after all, the British Falklands are still recognized as British territory by many UN states. However, Cura isn't losing hope for his composition: "I won't stage it anywhere else if I can't in Argentina, but I hope at least I get to do it before I die."

Back to English and Carmen. He describes his character with the same passion with which he interprets it. He does not believe in a romanticized Carmen: "The opera was revolutionary at the time and Carmen was the first feminist. Think about it. We're talking about colorful characters from Seville at that time: those women don't walk around naked because they're prostitutes, but because it's 50 degrees in the shade, their clothes are wet with sweat, and that translates into a great sexual confrontation." He makes the feminist speech all the more passionately because he himself is, as he jokingly declared a few years ago, an "imposing male." Yes, Carmen has a message that the world does not want to see: that women "can be free and men can be idiots." And, to clarify a little what the world wants and doesn't want, he declares Bizet's opera to be "a great work with the problem of being too well known."

It's time for the last question, about working with Romanian artists. The tenor sang in Traviata alongside Angela Gheorghiu, and was impressed by Leontina Vaduva, with whom he made a documentary in 1996 about Puccini's life. And because he has to end with a joke, he presents the story like this: "In the scene when she was dying in Bohème, I was moved to tears. The director came to tell me that it would be better if I cried but I told him: you don't have to ask me something like that, because this girl makes me cry all the time."

So, charismatic, vibrant, captivating. For those who have already bought a ticket to tomorrow night's Carmen performance, satisfaction is half guaranteed: José Cura has been, until now, an almost perfect Don José on many international stages, so the roar of applause at the Opera Bucharest will probably be sustained.

Carmen at the National Theater

Radio Romania

Luminita Arvunescu

10 September 2007

[Computer-assisted Translation // Excerpt]

First, a personal observation: we are a two-faced audience - at times dissatisfied, even grumbling, but in the end, extremely generous with our applause.

Second, a detail that I hope will not offend anyone: José Cura, the famous Argentine tenor - for whom the audience rushed to the Opera last night - is a magnificent Otello, a tremendous Canio and especially an exceptional Samson, but his voice seems to me "too heavy" for the role of Don Jose.

[,,,]

[So what] was there to see, in the first show hosted by the Bucharest National Opera in this edition of the "George Enescu" Festival? José Cura himself - a handsome, temperamental, sensitive singer - the kind we hadn't seen on our stages for a very long time - a high-class and intelligent artist, who knows that "characters should be solid, because the stage is merciless and you can fall as fast as a meteorite..." A man who probably creates a magnetic field around him, wherever he goes, and naturally attracts appraisal, due to the mysterious force of his celebrity. No wonder then that the audience ovation, unleashed and unrivaled, was just for him.

A triumphant success - for José Cura!

Funny Sort of People Here

Cotidianul

Sever Voinescu

9 September 2007

[Computer-assisted Translation // Excerpts]

At the beginning of the opera Carmen, soldiers who are quartered in Seville attempt to stay their boredom by watching the people on the street. “Funny sort of people here,” the soldiers sing. It is a world of blood and mad passion, where Carmen, the troublesome gypsy, feels at home in her natural environment. Don José, a soldier, is not from far away: we learn from Michaela that the road from her village to Seville is not at all long. So Don José belongs to the “funny” world and we have four acts to convince us.

There are, in Carmen, two moments that articulate the whole. The first comes in Act I when Carmen, pursued by the soldiers impatient to know when it's their turn to make love to her, tells them "Quand je vous aimerai? Ma foi, je ne sais pas. Peut-être jamais, peut-être demain; mais pas aujourd'hui, c'est certain.” (When am I going to love you? My word, I don't know. Perhaps never, perhaps tomorrow; but not today, that's certain.) This "c'est certain" haunts the whole work and, I think, the singer who knows how to say these two words correctly has the key to the whole role. Of course, Carmen is unstable, a rebellious bird. Immediately after saying she isn’t in the mood for love right now, she starts one of the most famous operatic seductions in the history of European culture: Habanera. Hadar Halevy spoke the two words with the right tone and the right nuance, with ease and assurance, with a shadow in her voice, as if her predatory mind had already moved on to the next victim.

I knew then that Hadar Halevy understood the role and knew perfectly what to offer. I was not surprised, then, she managed to pull off a great Carmen, even if some may disagree with her approach. You may want a more romantic Carmen, a more allusive Carmen but Halevy suggest a demonic, carnal Carmen, one who devours those she loves.

[…]

The second essential point in the opera occurs at the end of Act III. Don José’s love turns to hatred. Jealousy is just the acid needed to change the essence of feeling. So human is this metamorphosis, so many souls have experienced this devilish alchemy, that there is not a man in the world who does not vibrate to the drama of Don Jose. Tenor José Cura was, at this moment, the most powerful Don José I have ever seen or heard. Would it be sacrilege to say that by the end of the act, Cura was a more intense and powerful Don José than Domingo?

The end of Act III was dominated by Cura's exceptional dramatic temperament. His Don Jose emphasized one of the traits of machismo which, when exacerbated, explains the transformation of love into hate: arrogance. I confess, being struck by the character's arrogance, visible from the beginning of the first act, I was annoyed at first. There were lyrical moments (the meeting with Michaela, the aria from Act II, Carmen's begging for love at the end of the opera) that I wondered how the psychological coherence of the character would be maintained. I was honestly expecting the inexplicable fractures that we unfortunately see too often in the dramatic arts, when a character who at first seems one way becomes someone else without any dramatic support, just because the artist engaged in a superficial reading of the role. Well, Cura offered a solid Don Jose, with no internal inconsistencies, managing to be both lyrical and humble from within an indestructible arrogance. What a rare thing! And for this I applauded him enthusiastically and shouted "Bravo" with all my heart.

Cura's great quality is not his voice. Without a doubt, he sings very well. But his vocal cords were not kissed by God. And yet, it is due largely to the temperament of this dramatic tenor, because of his acting ability (yes, I think acting in opera is something different than acting in general), that he knows how to invest in the character and not necessary in the music. With probing intelligence, Cura knows how to use his voice in a particular way. His interpretative solutions are unique, surprising. Where most tenors sing piano, he will force a note or two; where everyone else is forcing, he stops for a fraction of a second and makes a tense piano. Every time, it turns out very well. He convinces.

José Cura shines, in general, in the verismo repertoire. Don José is a verismo character and so we applaud an artist who knows how to bring this character to life and keep him credible. Cura is the kind of tenor, quite rare, who grabs the audience during times of great tension. He is excellent in moments when his character is going through emotional upheavals, where major decisions must be made, where the most keenly felt emotions must register. His acting skills help him in such moments. For me, the scene at the end of Act III when Don Jose runs away from the brigands like a wounded animal with Michaela but not before raping Carmen, was fantastic. Don Jose then goes from Carmen's jealous, rejected lover to her most dangerous enemy. And Cura showed us this transformation with the clarity with which medical professors show students how bodies must be dissected.

Carmen Pursinge

Cotidianul

Cristiana Visan

18 October 2007

[Computer-assisted Translation // Excerpts]

Music lovers who went to the Opera on Saturday evening were treated to a great performance. José Cura presented a Don José who shocked the audience with his machismo, nerves and intensity of performance

The National Opera in Bucharest offered a performance from its own repertoire during the Enescu Festival on Saturday but with four guests from abroad, and the name of just one, José Cura, was enough to fill almost every seat in the great hall.

If many expected to see a more romantic Carmen, Saturday's performance took them by surprise. Cura's vision, in absolute harmony with that of the Israeli soprano [sic] Hadar Halevy, made Bizet's work a passionate and compelling performance, placing particular emphasis on the character of Don José. From his perspective, brilliantly illustrated in Bucharest, Carmen surprises precisely by the violence of its characters in the colorful world of Seville.

Cura's Don José is an arrogant man but in keeping with the natural stereotype of those times, in which macho attitudes could not easily tolerate such free and powerful behavior as that of Carmen, who humiliates, seduces, fascinates and demeans the Spanish soldier once more: for Cura, the murder at the end of the opera is not an act of jealousy but the natural response of a strong man to the humiliation he has been subjected to. Two scenes in particular took the audience's breath away: the one in the third act, when Don José is summoned by Micaela to the bedside of his dying mother - the violence with which Cura drags Halevy after him almost read on the soprano's [sic] face - and the final murder scene, when the intensity of his performance erased any trace of theatricality, as if Don José's seething nerves and blood had somehow brought to the stage the blood of the Carmen he had murdered.

Carmen, Vienna, February 2009: “Carmen comes down to the two leads, and there must have been some astronomical anomaly behind the pairing of baroque specialist Vesselina Kasarova, new to the role, and the force of nature called José Cura: the two worked off each other to create an edge-of-your-seat intensity, offering blood-and-guts characterizations while never neglecting Bizet's score.... No wimpy mama's boy, this true dramatico dude was unconsciously (or not) wrapping a leather thong around a hand while Carmen delivered her ‘Habanera,’ and he was clearly a brute in his lead-up to a staggeringly gorgeous, divinely phrased flower song. And he proceeded to beat the crap out of Escamillo.” Opera News, May 2009

Carmen, Vienna, February 2009: “The critics didn’t have much to say about José Cura as Don José but he is at least honest to the fingertips. Certainly, the mezza voce of the Flower song doesn’t make his voice happy, but as soon as he gets going with impetus, he does so with full commitment and consequently with full effect. And he is a fascinating actor, especially at the end. Unlike many of his colleagues past and present who undertake this role he does not transform into a pleading whiner who sprawls desperately at Carmen’s feet. This José, who already showed in the third act how much his honor has been wounded by Carmen's behavior, tries one more time to set things right, giving her one last chance: when she pushes him away, he does what must be done without emotion. He stabs her, wipes the bloody knife on his trousers and turns away. No whimpering collapse over the corpse. Perhaps too macho but in any case, certainly a man of honor. And a highly impressive performance….” Der Neue Merkur, 1 Mar 2009

Carmen, Vienna, February 2009: “At moments of strength, José Cura (as Don José) convinced; however, where it became intimate he came to the edge of his pianissimo art. Nothing new here, but in any case an intense, raging performance.” Der Standard, 27 February 2009

Carmen, Vienna, February 2009: “At the very forefront is the concentrated power by the name of José Cura: manly and massive is his tenor, but capable of caressing tones.” Wiener Zeitung, 27 February 2009

Carmen, Vienna, February 2009: “José Cura, who appears to relish the role, seemed almost indifferent in the first act, thawing only with the Flower Song. He sang with unexpected control – and suddenly one felt what is actually in the voice, if it is reined in to meet the part. After an emotionally strong third act, Cura changed in the finale to a desperate, introverted underdog, who begs for love and cannot tolerate Carmen’s superiority any longer. Thus the murder becomes the impulsive act of a man with no reason to live begging for one last toke of love. This José gives her one more chance and when she rejects him, he does what needs to be done. He stabs her, wipes the bloody knife on his trousers and turns away. No collapsing on the corpse. Cheers and flowers for Don José.” Operinwien, 25 February 2009

Carmen, Vienna, March 2009: “If one accepts that José Cura simply sings like José Cura, then one was very pleased. This Don José (and by this I mean the character) is never a weakling with major psychological problems as portrayed by other singers, but a proud Navarreser who—while certainly under the influence of his Carmencita—walks a certain way that he maintains through the inevitable consequence. This also includes the way he kills Carmen with deliberation when she refuses to come back to him. This murder is no impulsive reaction but well thought-through with the foreknowledge that he will ultimately lose his life. Acting is certainly one of Cura’s most convincing achievements, but he also presented the Flower Song with great heart and much feeling. Huge applause at the end, and even the singer seemed pleased…” Der Opernfreund, 4 March 2009

Carmen, Vienna, March 2009: “José Cura may have wished for someone more spirited and energetic (as his Carmen), as was witnessed in the dramatic Act Two duet, but it by no means influenced the star tenor's incredibly virile vocal performance and poignant, precisely sung interpretation. On the contrary: Cura is more than reliable and an absolute musical revelation in his present form and with all the vocal and dynamic refinement, which in taste and style is unequaled among his colleagues today. Ovations for him.” Opernglas, March 2009

Carmen

Opera News

Larry L Lash

11 May 2009

Singers, ostensibly human beings as well, carry all the strengths and frailties inherent to the species. So the chance of getting four of the world's top vocalists — who also happen to be extraordinarily intelligent, as well as superb actors — together for four performances of a Wiener Staatsoper revival of a Zeffirelli Carmen (so ancient there isn't even any livestock involved) is about as likely as that alignment of planets in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Is there a lovelier Micaëla, physically and vocally, in memory (post-Freni) than Genia Kühmeier? Momentarily departing from Mozart, she provided that bit of luxury casting that helped make the performance something legendary, surprisingly feisty in what is usually a role which requires a pretty sound and not much else.

Escamillo, too, is a one-hit wonder, but as portrayed by Ildebrado D'Arcangelo, this was a man vain enough to hold his impressive high notes until gravity — or the conductor — brought them down. He was not, however, quite the expert pugilist, with Carmen's cohorts having to pull Don José off him in their knife fight when it looked like he was going to lose.

But Carmen comes down to the two leads, and there must have been some astronomical anomaly behind the pairing of baroque specialist Vesselina Kasarova, new to the role, and the force of nature called José Cura. Given the paucity of rehearsal time for revivals at Staatsoper, one has to assume it was a matter of chemistry, or intelligence, or spontaneity, or fate: the two worked off each other to create an edge-of-your-seat intensity, offering blood-and-guts characterizations while never neglecting Bizet's score.

Kasarova's voluptuous, earthy mezzo is a quirky sound, the kind of voice over which opera fans vehemently take sides. But no one can deny her technical abilities, and there were jaw-dropping moments — especially controlled drops into deep chest voice — and a surprisingly human approach to the role, snapping José's suspenders, tearing up the floor in the "Danse bohème" and, ultimately, utterly surprised when José stabbed her, pawing at his torso in disbelief as he let her drop to the ground. Kasarova's intensely sexual, wholly unorthodox Carmen will not be to everyone's taste, but what a welcome addition she is to a currently under-crowded field.

Just add José — Cura that is — and the mix was perfect. No wimpy mama's boy, this true dramático dude was unconsciously (or not) wrapping a leather thong around a hand while Carmen delivered her "Habanera," and he was clearly a brute in his lead-up to a staggeringly gorgeous, divinely phrased flower song. And, as previously mentioned, he proceeded to beat the crap out of Escamillo.

From the eardrum-shattering downbeat, Asher Fisch told us this was going to be a brutal, veristic Carmen, and the orchestra delivered brilliantly throughout. On top of it, the speed, accuracy, and vocal luxury of Ileana Tonca, Sophie Marilley, Benedikt Kobel and Clemens Unterreiner, as Carmen's smuggler pals, were a major contribution to this rare Carmen, for which all the planets were aligned.