Bravo Cura

Celebrating José Cura--Singer, Conductor, Director

 

Operas:  Samson

Home | Up | Otello | Peter Grimes | Samson | Stiffelio | Tannhauser | Tosca


Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  José Cura is fantastic. His powerful voice is able to create an atmosphere of introspective self-confession, while the timbre darkens to express the bitterness of a man who recognizes he has betrayed himself and been betrayed.”  Avvenire, 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  Cura fascinated his audience with his brilliant voice, with its ample tone, perfect intonation and his powerful stage presence. As Samson, the singing actor Cura cannot be beaten.” Das Opernglas, 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “One cannot deny that the Argentine tenor gives an equally handsome and impressive vocal delivery hallmarked by mature expressivity. The color of the voice is that already familiar to us, dark and burnished, but at the same time and when needed rounded and soft. [H]e is bravissimo in the third act, singing with great participation through very refined interpretation, all of which conveys the physical and spiritual suffering of Samson.”  L'Opera

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “The Argentinian tenor gives to Samson all the strength of his magnetic presence, all the energy of a vocal emission of unseen arrogance. Cura confirms himself to be the only possibly imaginable performer for Samson since Jon Vickers’s retirement.”  Opera International, 1997  

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “Bravo, José Cura!  Cura’s Samson asserts his strength without undue athleticism, with particular attention to the nuances and the nobility of the score.”  La Stampa, 22 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “José Cura was an excellent Samson, very accurate in the psychological definition of the character and credible for the voice and the appearance. “ Corriere della sera, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “The protagonist José Cura sang very well, making himself admired also as an actor. Ronconi dressed him as Tarzan, with an ironic touch, in tune with the music of Saint-Saëns: Cura was in the game, drawing a Samson who, within the limits of the character, was really torn between duty and erotic attraction. When, blind and without hair, appearing destroyed, tied to the mill, his figure was that of a withered giant, very suggestive.”  La Stampa, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura was very good, a powerful protagonist always in possession of the role.”  La Repubblica, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “Even for professionals Samson et Dalila is a rarity: very few voices in the world have the characteristics necessary to impersonate the protagonists and among these few stands the Argentine tenor Josè Cura (already applauded as Samson at Covent Garden in London).” Il Tempo, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura sets up his character with restrained impetus, a giant attracted to the earth and bound to her, who finds the strength to break this link only in the last scene, when the temple is destroyed.  A great success for Cura …”  Il Manifesto, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “Samson—sumptuous, faithful, effective with a cast appropriate to the score [offering] great vocal richness. José Cura is a generous Samson, ardent, bold even in the high notes.”  L’Unita, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “A long final applause, which lasted for at least 5 minutes, marked the success of Samson et Dalila in Turin on Tuesday evening. The French opera had never been performed in Turin and the beautiful staging by Luca Ronconi was able to make a breakthrough with the usually not-very-warm audience. Critical reviews were also enthusiastic, some of whom spoke of this as an historical event. The two protagonists, José Cura and Carolyn Sebron stood out….” L’Eco di Bergamo, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “For Turin, the costumes of Vera Marzot are being talked about, with her bold incursions in the faux-nude of the dancers of the Bacchanal. As for nude, much has also been said about Samson, being able to exploit the athletic musculature of interpreter José Cura, a tenor who here expressed the most vocal and stage-craft possibilities.  His voice was clear and had a heroic ring, even in the most uncomfortable positions. “ Il Piccolo, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura's voice had indubitable strong points [with] a beautiful low register and manly, well-positioned highs.  The role of Samson is surely more appropriate than others to this voice, so the powerful highs in the heroic moments and the precious pianissimi in elegiac ones united with his athletic qualities and a Tarzan-like acting in making Mr. Cura a really believable Samson, perfect on stage.” OperaWeb, 30 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “The deeply felt aspect of the work was finally completed by the thundering interpretation of José Cura in the role of Samson; the strong Argentinian tenor concentrated on a roaring reading, painted in strong colors.” Il sole 24 Ore, 26 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura is a beautiful Samson for voice and physique and bare-chested roles are now his specialty.”  Il Giornale, 23 October 1997

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “There can be no denying that this is a young singer with extraordinary gifts--combining a full, ringing and powerful tenor voice (complete with marked baritonal shadings and just a hint of the trumpet) with a commanding and athletic stage presence.... the aria 'Vois ma misere' was sufficient to prove that Cura's singing is more than merely loud and hard and that he is capable of some ravishing legato phrasing.”  The Washington Post, 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “Argentinian tenor Jose Cura was the evening's newcomer and focus. Would he live up to rumor and recordings? I heard a young man of noble bearing, with a pure lyric-spinto voice that had a ping of emotion and a reserve of dramatic power: exciting stuff both now and potentially. As for acting, in Samson's scene blinded at the millstone he was interior, moving and tragic.”  Peabody News,  November 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “The chief reason for the anticipation was the presence of the much-talked-about Argentine tenor José Cura in the title role. It is a coup for the Washington Opera to have engaged Cura before he arrives at the Met next season. He is 35 and is already being touted as the man who will inherit the mantle of Placido Domingo in the heroically scaled roles of the lyric tenor repertory.  Cura's Samson in London's Covent Garden was much applauded a few seasons back, and his first performances of Verdi's Otello in Turin recently were enthusiastically received. And, as if to place his seal of approval upon predictions that the next Domingo is in our midst, the great tenor himself, who is the Washington company's artistic director and who still counts Samson among his signature roles, is making his Washington Opera debut as a conductor in this production.

So how good is Cura -- or, more to the point, how does he compare with the Domingo of 20 years ago? He certainly resembles the Spaniard superficially -- except that he is better-looking and is physically more imposing than the young Domingo was. And his tenor instrument is superb. Cura's voice may not convey the sweetness that Domingo's did (and still does), but it is beautiful enough and perhaps even more powerful. Even in the highest reaches of the role, Cura's notes never betrayed a hint of strain.  I also prefer Cura's interpretation of Samson (he has recorded the opera on just-released Erato 3984-24756) to that of Domingo at the same age. Cura is at least as forceful and expressive, but he gets inside the role in a way that I don't think the younger Domingo did, achieving a bottomless depth of despair in ‘Vois ma misere’ at the beginning of Act III.”  Baltimore Sun, 12 November 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “Ever since Luciano Pavarotti, Plácido Domingo and [José] Carreras turned into a novelty act playing football stadiums the hunt has been on for the next big tenor. One of the strongest claimants is José Cura, a 35-year-old Argentine bringing down the house (and the set) in Saint-Saëns' Samson et Dalila this month at the Washington Opera. A kung-fu black belt and bodybuilder, he looks the part of Samson. Better yet, he sings it. Thrilling at full throttle, as any Italianate tenor must be, Cura is even more impressive as a lyrical voice in his love duet with Denyce Graves, the Delilah of the Washington production. The surest measure of his artistry, however, is his nuance vocalism and tragic characterization of the blinded Samson.”  Richmond Times-Dispatch, 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “His is a voice of tremendous depth and range, knife-clean and well-supported.  As an added bonus, Mr. Cura is physically handsome and robust; he makes a highly believable and sexy Samson.  Mr. Cura is not afraid to take risks.  His gasping voice in the last act is not the voice of a superstar tenor divo neurotically hungering for applause.  At times, he chokes off his notes with a purposeful inaccuracy, intent on an honest, authentic portrayal of a beaten hero begging for God's help in one final act of vengeance.  It takes guts for a young singer to do this, and Mr. Cura has courage in reserve.” The Washington Times, Nov 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “José Cura was a compelling Samson ….” Opera, January 1999

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “Advance publicity and fan page gush do not exaggerate Jose Cura's compelling physicality, admired on November 18, midway through the run of Washington Opera's Samson et Dalila. But most impressive is the way he puts the eye-candy at the service of a deep identification with his character. Clad in dazzling white, he bestrides Act I, a monument of physical strength and moral authority. His capitulation to Dalila comes as the all-too-topical downfall of a charismatic leader conquered by his own compulsions. Like an addict entering withdrawal, this Samson collapses into a passive heap upon Dalila's cushions -- muscles limp, eyes glazing. The effect is devastating. Dressed in tatters, smeared in blood, and nearly doubled over as he pushes the millstone, Cura in Act III embodies the character's abject shame with Strassbergian realism, setting up the final act of restored faith and divine retribution for a thrilling conclusion.  Oh, and he sings, too. Offering more punch than ping, Cura can't shake that "baritonal" label. Act I, where Samson is a kind souped-up Bach Evangelist, found him wanting in declamatory zeal and clarion edge. In Act II, he crooned a series of hooty "je t'aime"s, adding dubiously supported tone to his portrait of erotic submission. But in Act III, Samson's physical misery and moral torment paradoxically liberated Cura to a freer, Italianate attack that is clearly his natural métier. Suddenly the timbre had more juice, the phrasing more color, and the diction more bite.” Parterre Box, 18 November 1998

(Separate review):  Another 'risky' tenor is José Cura; when his voice and personality are clicking, he can be, I think, the most exciting singer of opera today.  Certainly his Samson with Washington Opera was a 'demented night (to use a useful term of supreme praise):  Cura's feral voice and film-star physical attractiveness limned the tragedy of a political superman brought low by his own sexual urges.  He whimpered the line "Dalila, Dalila, je t'aime' in a wavering falsetto, drunk with lust and trembling with self-loathing....

 

Samson et Dalila, Barcelona, 2001:  “Cura sang Samson--an opera that he knows perfectly--with spirit, guts, and a taut and vibrant voice which gave to his character a dramatic force that corresponded to the action on the stage. Few times have we heard the sad monologue of the mill-turning sung more emotionally, dramatically, and movingly than from the mouth of José Cura. Then, in the Bacchanal, his performance was immense, without neglecting the vocal demands: he thrust himself into the crowd, rolled towards the ground in his knot of chains, and rose up to bring down the pillars of the blazing temple with a high note that sent the audience into delirium.”  Vangardia

 

Samson et Dalila, Barcelona, 2001:  “Now to the star of the show: the Argentinean tenor José Cura.  He is a stage animal. His presence has such electricity it is almost impossible to take your eyes off him. He simply fills the stage. The magnetism is captivating to the point that there are more opportunities to be trapped by the eyes and become more indifferent to the ears. After 'Arretez, o mes freres!' the vocal problems were exposed... yes, everything was there to be heard, but his presence and acting convinced that he was Samson. Vocally there was little difference between the heroic character of the first act and the tormented lover, struggling internally and finally seduced in the second, until the vanquished, anguished and vengeful hero of the last act. The singing was always raw but none of this seemed to bother the audience, who clapped wildly and offered a final standing ovation. Yes, the show was undoubtedly a great triumph for Cura. Certainly he scored a public success in his debut at the Liceu. And at last I could understand the reason for the public uproar.”  Emrique Esquenazi

 

Samson et Dalila, Barcelona, 2001: “So I watched two shows – one with José Carreras and one with José Cura - very different from each other.  This is a great opportunity, especially since I think that José Cura, because of his interesting voice, interesting interpretation and great appearance, is one of the most interesting tenors of the younger generation.   During the first act, José Cura was a bit hidden and probably did not evoke any great emotions; by the second act, José Cura rose to the tops, singing in a strong voice and playing dramatically his role.  Cura was a good tenor singing with all his notes in a beautiful voice.

In the final of the third act, both tenors were great but objectively speaking, it seemed that the heroic voice of the Argentinean was better than the voice of lirico spinto Spaniard. ”   Trubadur, 20 March 2001

 

Samson et Dalila, Barbican, December 2002: “Samson is a favorite role of Latin tenors, and José Cura has already made it something of his own. [H]is a passionate account of the role.”  The Daily Telegraph, December 2002

 

Samson et Dalila, Barbican, December 2002:  “A palpable throb pulsed through the audience around me each time Cura slid on to the stage. Such was the chemistry between the two [leads] that, by the arrival of 'Mon coeur', one of the sexiest love songs in all opera, they could not resist sidling closer to each other, joining hands, then arms, then... well, one feared where Cura's fingers might wander next as he gently crooned: 'Da-li-la' into her elegantly receptive ear.”  The Observer, December 2002

 

Samson et Dalila, Barbican, December 2002:  “Now the role is taken by the most carnal of tenors, José Cura, who plays Samson as a feral creature, barely in control of his emotions.  You have a real treat in store.”  The Guardian, December 2002

 

Samson et Dalila, Barbican, December 2002:  “As Samson, José Cura appears to [stake] the part out as a prototype for the overwrought verismo heroes who let every emotion hang loose.  Using all the resources of his powerful, baritonal tenor, Cura gives a characteristically unbuttoned performance that improves as the evening progresses.  His first entrance may show him to be loud and somewhat cavalier about pitch, but he is most impressive when he quietens down.  His characterization could be deeper but perhaps we should not expect too much subtlety in a religious maniac.” Time, 18 December 2002

 

Samson et Dalila, Barbican, December 2002:  “The love duet before Delilah betrays Samson is one of opera's purple patches, the tingle factor a high-voltage shock, particularly as performed here by the virile, piratical Argentine José Cura. The real star (of the evening) was Cura. He gets some stick from the British critics and it's true he is more of a dramatic than a lyric tenor but he's an accomplished conductor as well as singer, and around his lynchpin role the rest of the cast were able to shine. The way his voice filled and thrilled the hall will be an abiding memory.”  The Mail on Sunday

 

Samson et Dalila, Chicago, December / January 2003/2004:  “Cura certainly looked the part of the brawny Samson and, once past the hectoring tone with which he oversang the hero's opening scene, the Argentine tenor mustered the heroic timbre and dramatic declamation needed to get him through this demanding French tenor role. He aptly conveyed Samson's Tannhauser-like struggle between faith and the flesh. His most intense and poignant singing came in ‘Vois ma misere,’ when the blinded, shackled captive despairingly cried out to God.”  Chicago Tribune, 15 December 2003, and American Record Review, Spring 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, Chicago, December / January 2003/2004:  “Cura sang with powerful dark tones, impressing the audience with his stagecraft and athletic physique. In his interpretation he showed that he was aware of his weakness for Dalila, but totally unable to resist. He had not been heard at the Lyric Opera in nine years and he received a warm welcome.”  Opera Japanica 

 

Samson et Dalila, Chicago, December / January 2003/2004:  “With a superb cast headed by José Cura and Olga Borodina, Lyric’s revival of Samson is spectacular. Cura, the tall, dark, handsome Argentine tenor, has been on everybody's list of the longed-for "Fourth Tenor" since emerging on stage in the early 1990s. Mercifully, the sillier aspects of that near-desperate early hype have died down a little, allowing Cura's phenomenally rich, flexible tenor voice and stage presence time and space to blossom naturally. Saturday night, he was, both vocally and in terms of acting, the kind of sexy, noble Biblical warrior opera lovers dream about.

With Cura exploiting his tenor's darker weight, Samson emerged as both a thoughtful servant of God and a headstrong warrior. A sexy-looking hunk in his short tunic, he was a magnetic figure in the opening scene, a natural leader whose stirring call to arms galvanized the dispirited Jews. Eschewing cartoonish strutting and gestures for more understated intensity, Cura's Samson was a believable young hero from his first entrance. That intensity turned the Act II love scene into a titanic struggle worthy of both its Biblical authors and Saint-Saëns' gorgeously crafted score. Cura's Samson was acutely aware of his weakness for Dalila and the danger his liaison posed for his people. But the ultimately disastrous clash of his passion with the savvily deployed tears, caresses and curses of Borodina's irresistible Dalila was as riveting to watch as an impending train wreck. Highly recommended.”  Chicago Tribune, 15 December 2003 

 

Samson et Dalila, Chicago, December / January 2003/2004:  “With two principals who bring large voices, exemplary physical appearance and incandescent histrionic gifts, Samson et Dalila flames up as it rarely has in its century-and-a-quarter lifespan. Cura was a powerful, subtle, ultimately profoundly moving leader of the Israelites. He has the volume, the dark good looks, the sense of stagecraft and the massive physique of a body-builder. After ranting a bit in the first act, he settled down to singing of nuance and purpose. In the first scene of the final act, pushing a millstone, he made Samson's anguish heartbreaking and he lifted himself in the temple scene to the final note that brings down the house - literally. A noble, courageous portrayal. Not for a moment does this Samson et Dalila flag; rather, the full measure of its decadence, sensuality, betrayal and triumph resounds with clarion call.’  News-Chronicle, December 2003 

 

Samson et Dalila, Chicago, December / January 2003/2004:  “José Cura as Samson is effective from the dramatic point of view: as a warrior and a prophet he made his entrance in a modest way and then incites his people with fervor and dignity (what dignity permitted him by the short tunic he dresses in during all three acts). From the dramatic viewpoint, his highlight is not the intimate second act, where Olga Borodina as Dalila dominates, but the third act, where the tragic and pathetic vein of this singer finds a vent in the lament ‘Vois ma misère’ and then in the pressing rise towards the final invocation to God and the destruction of the temple.”  L’Opera

 

Samson et Dalila, Chicago, December / January 2003/2004:  “Smoldering at the center of the Lyric production were José Cura and Olga Borodina. The Argentinean tenor was last seen here in 1994, a promising young talent subbing for Plácido Domingo in Fedora.  Cura returns an international star in what has become a signature role for him, and with good reason. He unleashed torrents of ringing heroic tone within a dramatic conception that remained convincing, from the eroticism of the Dalila interludes to the poignant connection with the child in the final scenes. His voice seemed to gain power through the evening, yet he maintained the necessary control for some delicate pianissimos in the opening of Act III. Cura’s is not a refined sound, and there is a certain lack of French elegance; but this is an exciting performer who here provided a wealth of visceral thrill.”  Opera News, March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, Chicago, December / January 2003/2004:  “The exceptional cast was able to provide long stretches of suspended disbelief.  Though not always fully in control of his singing, José Cura achieved moments of great vocal power and dramatic intensity as Samson.”  Opera, June 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “[From Cura] out of nowhere comes a burst of splendidly heroic singing or the fine etching of a sensitive musical point.”  The Telegraph, 16 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “José Cura makes a forthright tenor noise as Samson and judges his histrionics with taste.”  Financial Times, 15 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “José Cura gives a performance of great power, so obviously the chemistry is just right between these two great singers. It is not always so, but when it happens, it produces sparks of magic.’  What’s On, 24 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “Lastly, there was José Cura, commanding of aspect and with a nice line in suffering and staggering for the Act 3 solo. It would be churlish to linger on the mannerisms but surely he needs to iron out those now near-persistent swoops up to the note for 'expressive' effect.  These tics are doubly frustrating when they accompany such splendid vocal and musical gifts, such tremendous focus at the top of the voice, and a matching ability to sing quietly and beautifully when the music needs it.  By the end of the Act 2 love duet, I was teetering, almost willing to believe this opera worthy of the extravagant praise some continue to heap on it.”  Opera, May 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “Argentinian José Cura, arguably the most gifted spinto tenor of his generation, is sturdy and handsome as the Israelite champion.”  The Stage, 18 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “Cura, unsurprisingly, reacts to [Dalila] as one spellbound, tracking her every move with his huge eyes, fondling her body at every opportunity. His Samson is at once a sensualist and a fanatic, a man in whom desire and spiritual conviction burn with equal, violent intensity. His voice is in better shape than when he sang the role in concert at the Barbican two years ago. There are still moments of rawness in the tone under pressure, though he responds to Graves's seductions with honeyed whispers and captures Samson's mental and physical agony with frightening vividness in the closing scenes.”  The Guardian, 15 March 2004 

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “It has to be said that [Denyce Graves] and her Samson, José Cura, looked really comfortable with each other. The body language of their fateful tryst was the one great lie that the production made believable - her deceit, his desire. Cura looks great in the role - and he sounds pretty good, too. The swarthy complexion of the voice has always been his strong selling point. And that's what counts in this role - middle-voice masculinity.”  The Independent, 17 March 2003

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “José Cura is a very strong Samson: his dark tenor is in good shape with a ringing power, and he is an actor of fearless physicality.”  The Times, 15 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “Really any production of the work needs only a persuasively butch Samson. José Cura answers the first need to a T, and, furthermore, since I last saw him in the role he has developed an amazing capacity to sing quietly, so that his assurances to Dalila after she had opened her heart to his voice that 'Je t'aime' were positively murmured.  Mostly, though, he was singing at full throttle, and sounding superb.”  The Spectator, 27 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “José Cura [brings] youthful vigour to this testing role.  The dashing Argentinian finally seems to be shedding his tendency to play shamelessly to the gallery, not least to his blue-rinse groupies. In this incarnation, Cura is wholly convincing, even moving during the treadmill scene, edging me reluctantly towards a rare use of that dodgy critical word 'definitive'.”  The Observer, 21 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “Samson … is a difficult role to fill; Cura does a good job.  His voice is darker than it was last year, almost  as if he was conjuring a sound suitable for the old testament prophet.  Act 3 opens with Samson alone, chained to the mill wheel.  Here Cura was on tremendous form...his strong performance was a striking contribution to the evening. He gave a wonderful variety of tone color, as he had done throughout the opera, and he made a profoundly moving figure. Cura's final contribution, bringing with it the collapse of the Philistine temple, brought the evening to a triumphant close.”  Music and Vision, March 2004 

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “The Argentinian José Cura now ranks as one of the world's top Samsons. Large and muscular, he looks ready to topple any old temple and moves with the sass of one who knows as much his remorseful Act III aria, when shorn and eyeless in Gaza he turns the mill, had real force.”  The Evening Standard, 15 March 2004 

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “José Cura reacts to Denyce Grave’s  Dalila as one spellbound, tracking her every move with his huge eyes, fondly her body at every opportunity.  His Samson is at once a sensualist and a fanatic, a man in whom desire and spiritual conviction burn with equal, violent intensity.  He responds to Graves’s seductions with honeyed whispers and captures Samson’s mental and physical agony with frightening vividness in the closing scenes.” Guardian, 15 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “José Cura gives a performance of great power;  the chemistry is just right between these two great singers.  It is not always so, but when it happens, it produces sparks of magic.” What’s On, 24 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “Argentinian José Cura, arguably the most gifted spinto tenor of his generation, has wonderful moments.  He is sturdy and handsome as the Israelite champion…” The Stage, 18 March 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “".....Lastly, there was José Cura, commanding of aspect and with a nice line in suffering and staggering for the Act 3 solo.  It would be churlish to linger on the mannerisms but surely he needs to iron out those now near-persistent swoops up to the note for 'expressive' effect.  These tics are doubly frustrating when they accompany such splendid vocal and musical gifts, such tremendous focus at the top of the voice, and a matching ability to sing quietly and beautifully when the music needs it.  By the end of the Act 2 love duet, I was teetering, almost willing to believe this opera worthy of the extravagant praise some continue to heap on it."  Opera, May 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, ROH, March 2004:  “Cura found the meaty core of his dark, masculine tenor (and he looked ideal for the role).” Opera Japonica, 13 April 2004

 

Samson et Dalila, New York City, April 2005: ‘The Samson of the tenor José Cura, returning to the Met for the first time since his debut performances as Turiddu in Cavalleria rusticana in 1999, is the big news of the revival. The 42-year-old Argentine tenor has had an unorthodox career, which began with extensive training as a conductor, choral director and composer. He was 30 before he committed to a career as an operatic tenor. With his powerful voice, hunky physique and animal magnetism he quickly developed an ardent following. Vocal purists may still fault his singing for its lack of finesse and the sometimes patchy quality of the legato phrasing. But the clarion power and burnished colorings of his voice offered exciting compensations. Clearly a solid musician, he sang with rhythmic integrity and admirable dynamic shadings. Still, it was sheer vocal willpower and dramatic risk-taking that gave his portrayal such impact. During the love scene, he sang Samson's climactic top notes lying on his back with Ms. Graves cuddled over his chest. In the prison scene, when Samson, blinded, shorn of hair and sapped of power, turns the mill wheel to which he is chained, Mr. Cura captured the pitiable state of this broken man through his halting steps and anguished singing. Mr. Cura's Samson is the reason to take in this revival.”  New York Times, April 2005

 

Samson et Dalila, New York City, March 2005:  “Samson is a real hero of this opera and José Cura was the main attraction in these performances. His Samson is a charismatic Israelite leader, a warrior as well as Dalila's former lover. The beginning of Act III was the most dramatic, impressive and convincing moment of this staging. The captured, betrayed, shorn and blinded Samson turns the millstone, shackled to it. Effective lights illuminate the tragic leader who betrayed his nation because of his love for Dalila. Samson asked God to save the Israelites and to punish only him. His aria ‘Vois ma misere, helas!  was one of the strongest moments in the opera. Cura is not only an extraordinary vocalist but thanks to his experience as a conductor and a universal musician, he's a rare example of a thinking tenor. That's something!”  Kamerton, April 2005

 

Samson et Dalila, New York City, March 2005:  “Saint-Saëns' orgy music inspired many a Biblical movie score, and there is a touch of Hollywood in the Met's show—most notably, in the persons of tenor José Cura and mezzo Denyce Graves. He is tall and strapping; she is regal and voluptuous; both are comely and command the stage. There is chemistry between them, as when Graves' Dalila strokes and nuzzles Cura's resistant Samson, who then follows her beckon like a helpless child.  Bloodied and battered with his arms outstretched, Cura's Samson at the millstone resembles Jesus on the cross—a plausible image by the standards of Christian typology, which sees Samson's sacrifice as prefiguring Christ's.

While Cura's acting was affecting, his singing was uneven. Back at the Met for the first time since his 1999 debut, he showed few signs of artistic decline or growth. His voice is dark and beautiful in its lower and middle ranges; he tends to bark his way through high phrases (though he nailed his final B-flat); and his enunciation is cloudy. His vocalism ranged from disciplined (a stirring rebuke to the Hebrews in Act I) to willful (crooning and gasping in the millstone scene).”  Newsday, February 2005

 

Samson et Dalila, New York City, March 2005:  “To his first Met Samson, Cura brought a portrayal in which spontaneous vocalism was tempered with earnest depth, both in the hero’s devout faith and in the conflict he suffered for his weakness for Dalila. Given the physique du role and a voice of heroic strength, the Argentinian tenor could encompass both rueful piety and volcanic resources of energy. With his direct manner and unruly, almost experimental technique, Cura is an exciting singer who breathes both life and thought into a character. He immersed himself in the role, putting to expressive use the arresting rough edges of his full-throated sound. In Act I, he acted and sang with restraint before rising to eloquence as he exhorted his people. Faced with Dalila, he wrestled his inner demons, emotional turmoil revving like a dramatic engine. In Act III, only sincerity and fervor saved him from hamming it up as he played out Samson’s despair in defeat. When he rose at the last moment to find himself again, the resurgence of his strength was palpable.”  Opera News, May 2005

 

Samson et Dalila, New York City, March 2005:  “Argentine hunk José Cura, whose 1999 Met debut as Turiddu proved severely disappointing, finally returned to the company with a stronger––if still uneven––effort. His Samson, in execrable French––how can such an ambitious artist permit himself this lapse?––commands heroic stature physically and, at least in the upper register, vocally, making his visually committed, dynamic assumption theatrically impressive, even if the tone itself was often unbeautiful and the technique varied puzzlingly from effective to peculiar, phrase to phrase. Cura fared best with the anguished intensity of the third act.”  Gay City News, 31 March – 1 April 2005

 

Samson et Dalila, NYC, February 2005:  “When José Cura arrived at the Metropolitan Opera in September 1999, he became the first tenor since Enrico Caruso in 1903 to be given a debut at the house's opening night of the season. But after his three performances as Turiddu in Cavalleria rusticana over an eight-day span that fall, Cura stayed away from the Met, building his career as a singer and conductor in Europe.  He returned triumphantly this week in the Met's revival of Saint-Saëns' Samson et Dalila, displaying the clear, robust voice and steamy good looks that have earned him acclaim. Based on Thursday night's performance, the second in a run of seven through March 19, the 42-year-old Argentine has become a major artist.

Cura combined with mezzo-soprano Denyce Graves for a moving love scene in the second act, when both took turns singing while lying on their backs. With blood on his face and his voice filled with pain, he was thrillingly dramatic as he turned the mill at the start of the third act, after his hair had been cut and he had been blinded. His French phrasing occasionally sounded less than perfect, but that didn't detract from the overall portrayal. In the post-Three Tenors era, he is among the most exciting tenors around.”  Associated Press, 25 February 2005

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007: The absence of a full staging leaves the voice as principal, though not the only tool to feel each of the multiple states of mind. And in this sense Cura surpassed the others with his brilliance. Flirting with some overacting but never actually doing it, Cura applied an infinite number of vocal devices to his singing, with overwhelming artistic excellence. Thus, Samson sighs agonizingly in the lamentation of the third act and his singing is perfectly audible and touching, he harangues the Hebrews almost like a Wagnerian tenor or demonstrates all his doubts in front of the lurking Dalila with an inevitable musical conviction. The first delights came when the choir, prepared by Salvatore Caputo, began from an imperceptible, perfectly tuned pianissimo, and advanced in increasing volume and intentions to build a fugue shaped with enough freedom by Saint-Saëns to allow the Hebrew slaves to sing of their despair. And when from the center of the choir, hidden among so many dark clothing, there arose the powerful, overwhelming and magnificent voice of José Cura, there followed astonishment, fascination and wonder.”  La Nacion, 25 June 2007

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007:  “[T]he most significant aspect in this case didn’t seem to be the general concept but the expressive determination of tenor José Cura, overwhelming even when not “acting.” Cura established the drama from the “get go”, when he appeared in the middle of the choir and began to address his people simply with a look. It was evident that the limitation of the staging reflected even greater significance on the most minor inflection. Cura admirably personifies his role, as much through his acting as through his vocals. His line of singing is luscious, without cracks in the heroic registry in the first, as in the more lyrical of the second or in the whispered and broken of the third.”  Clarin, 25 June 2007

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007:  “As to José Cura, he convinced me by the end of the performance. After a start in which he offered a very personal interpretation, one that continued until the beginning of the third act, he made a turn and frankly managed to convince me totally as an actor and as well as with his vocal delivery, emphatically projecting the drama to come and the fate of Samson and this is where I point out that without a doubt the first (two) acts are more José Cura than Samson but the third is Samson winning over José Cura and that is the key to his triumph.”  La Opera BuenAyre, August 2007

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007:  “If a musical event depends on the presence of a great artist on stage, that is what happened with Camille Saint-Saëns’ Samson et Dalila. The tenor José Cura, in the main role of this masterpiece of French opera, was incomparable. His vocal qualities are exceptional, his musicality ideal and the force of his delivery impressive. To this it is necessary to add his charisma. Samson has an ideal interpreter in Cura and this was demonstrated in the concert version in the Teatro Coliseo. It was not a concert in the traditional sense, but a ‘staging within a space,” as it was called, that had more to do with Cura’s lack of inhibition and his unconventional approach. Cura was the pillar of this Samson and Dalila.”  Ambitoweb, 25 June 2007

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007:  “In the splendid opening performance of this concert version programmed by Teatro Colón, José Cura, stunning vocally and also profoundly convincing as an actor, clearly demonstrated the significance of space in heightening the dramatic effect from the start [of the opera] in his manner of interacting with the chorus. With powerful yet subtle voice, Cura took delight in the pianissimos, in raising the pitch, and even in groaning. His character literally took body and his voice became part of that body.”  Pagina/12, 25 June 2007

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007:  “José Cura as Samson was impressive. From the initial scene, in which he emerges from the rows of the choir, his volume and commitment were captivating. In the first act he favored the use of subtlety, in the second he shaded his expressiveness to show his love, and he reached his best moments in the beginning of the third act with his concentrated painful expression and singing in a highly pleasing mezzo voce. It is possible to agree or not with his way of expressing and with some of the tricks of a singer with such solid experience but it is impossible to stay indifferent to his singing and artistic expression.’  MundoClasico, June 2007

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007:  “The indisputable star of the night was José Cura’s performance. From his initial appearance, almost magical, materializing in the middle of the chorus, singing as he came down the stairs to the edge of the stage, the adrenaline raced through the auditorium. His voice sounded marvelous, with excellent volume, beautiful timber—almost baritonal—the particular emphasis he put on his statements and the incredible array of vocal resources that he used. And his work as an actor carried his unmistakable stamp. Samson seems to fit him like a ring on a finger. The quality of his contribution did not waiver through the performance and he received a well-deserved ovation. Cura really is a Divo, with all this word implies. Everything with him is grandiloquent but without doubt he is one of those singers for whom every phrase, every sound he emits has a special value, a bonus.”  Canto, August 2007

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007: “The possessor of significant volume, solidly dramatic, the Rosarino tenor arrives in the middle of a career that has taken him to the most distinguished international stages. And this certainly absolutely justified, based on the qualities he demonstrated in his performance in the concert version of this most beautiful work, so rich and harmoniously creative, Samson et Dalila. Cura (Samson) highlighted a powerful dark tone, full of color, very supple in nuances, completely homogeneous and expressed with astonishing naturalness. And though conceptually he exaggerated somewhat his rage and the vocal contrasts of the characters (he is brave and strong in the first act…blind, weak and reduced to servitude in the last), his work showed without doubt that he is one of the principal singers of the world at the moment.”  La Prensa, 25 June 2007 

 

Samson et Dalila in Concert, Buenos Aires, June 2007: “José Cura, in the role that perfectly suits his histrionics on stage and which he was profusely and brilliantly represented, had to adapt to the modality described above. Undoubtedly, he maintains his charisma intact, his voice powerful, and his interpretation of this Judge of Israel converted in a warrior leader looking for his people's freedom is simply magnificent.”  Ópera Actual, September 2007

 

Samson et Dalila, Bologna, June 2008:  “The merit of the final scene goes to José Cura, who seems reborn and purposefully refining the interpretation of the role that fits him so perfectly. Beside him we must note, as the principal interpreter of the work, the Coro del Comunale, now in the hands of Paolo Vero who has moved to Bologna from Palermo. The rest of the cast was less convincing—Julia Gertseva combined remarkable beauty with the sensuality of a curbstone and Mark Rucker, a mediocre singer despite a significant voice (the Gran Sacerdote). It was business as usual for Mario Luperi as Abimelech. Director Michal Znaniecki did not convince. The costumes by Isabelle Comte were beautiful for Dalila, less beautiful for others, and tedious for the chorus of the Philistines, encumbered by enormous onions on their heads. Even less convincing was the choreography by Aline Nari, especially in the Bacchanal, which featured rapes and physical violence of all kinds, in absolute dissociation with the music.”  La Repubblica, 2 June 2008

 

Samson et Dalila, Bologna, June 2008:  “Dalila, the beautiful Philistine who betrays Samson for racial hatred and thirst for revenge, truly the dark heroine in the work, is Russian mezzo Julia Gertseva. She is beautiful, with a sumptuous voice, sings well, and is both musical and a musician. However, just as in Bizet’s Carmen heard recently at the Maggio Musicale, and even though this role has less weight (Dalila does not have the complex facets of Carmen) there is that necessary spark of inexpressible femininity that renders an artist an excellent professional that simply fails to materialize. Unlike the performance of José Cura. In the first act, shirt opened across his buff chest, he runs agilely up and down the metallic stairs that divides the two levels of the set designed by Tiziano Santi, with the oppressive Philistines occupying the upper level, the oppressed Jews on the lower one. One suspects the inspiration is more Cecil B. De Mille and his colossal Hollywood [epic] than Saint-Saëns, since the promise of years ago of the heroic voice is lost in the opacity of the timbre that did not ring. But if the instrument may not be what it was, any ungenerous thought is swept away in the second act, that of seduction and betrayal, where the emphasis is more intimate and uncertain to prepare for the arrival of the true emotions that comes in the third act, where shorn, wounded, and suffering, [Cura] shows himself to be a mature and sensitive interpreter, with the true timbre of an artist.”  Il Sole 24 Ore, 5 June 2008

 

Samson et Dalila, Bologna, June 2008:  The Bologna season ended with a resounding success for Samson et Dalila, marked by the rhythmic ‘ola’ of the final applause. Principle merit must be attributed to that vocal and interpretive hurricane who answers to the name of José Cura. One of the roles felt most keenly by the Argentinean tenor from Rosario is Samson. You may have seen and heard him in action at the Teatro Regio in Turin when he caused a sensation by appearing in loin-cloth, or at the Liceu in Barcelona when his unexpected performance substituting for José Carreras resulted in him becoming a favorite of that theater. In short, there are few to turn to now for the role:  with the abdication by Domingo, Cura is the only Samson. Beyond the undeniable stage presence, it must be noted in this role [Cura’s] obvious musical engagement in respect to the score and in adherence to the signs of expression, arriving at a display of unthinkable and sweet mezzevoci in the vocal surrender, where the timbre of precious bronzed amber stands out in all it manly beauty. Thus applied we want to see and listen more often but one thing more is also Cura: unpredictable. However, when he is on stage he is the catalyst who demands the attention while the other struggle twice as hard to be noticed.”  L'Opera, August 2008

 

Samson et Dalila, Bologna, June 2008:  The predominant tessitura of Samson is congenial to both the beautiful voice of José Cura and his temperament. The broad timbre, encased in burnished velvet, is at its best in the middle tones…in the third act the singer offers the best of himself and the results are excellent, showcasing a man defeated but not tamed, making credible and touching the prolonged moral agony. This Samson, in fact, is not drawn from the religious, maintains at all time a very strong human nature with no hidden ‘divine mission,’ combining fragility and vulnerability to make the events even more tragic.”  Teatro.Org, 6 June 2008

 

Samson et Dalila, Bologna, June 2008:  “With his natural fighter’s temperament, José Cura mesmerized the audience and it would be difficult nowadays to find a more convincing Samson with the requisite quasi-baritonal qualities.”  Opera Now, September/October 2008

 

Samson et Dalila, Bologna, June 2008:  ‘With great pleasure we found José Cura in wonderful form, extraordinary in stage craft and incisive in accents and phrasing.’  GBOpera Magazine, 11 June 2008

 

Samson et Dalila, Santander, August 2008:  “Style tenor José Cura undoubtedly has, and his beautiful timbre shone brightly in his debut in the Santander Festival. He has the force and dramatic quality necessary [for this role] and was splendid in the second act aria, ' Mon coeur s'ouvre á ta voix,' sung with Dalila.”  ElDiarioMontanes, 29 August 2008

 

Samson et Dalila, Liege, September 2009:  “Strictly balanced between the hieratic general and the psychological particular, he directed all the actors except the Argentine tenor José Cura who is allowed free rein and for good reason: the singer knows the role thoroughly, he brings to it his deep, warm timbre (habits, too) and, despite some reservations in style and diction (as his French speaking is perfect), he embodies, by his immense talent, his charisma, and his generosity, the trump card of the production. The Russian mezzo Julia Gertseva (Dalila) has a superb voice but she needs to move out of her reserve, in sexiness and cruelty, to match the fiery temperament of Cura.”  La Libre, 21 September 2009  

 

Samson et Dalila, Liege, September 2009:  “Julia Gertseva, with a beautiful figure and a large mezzo voice, displayed nothing of the irresistible seducer. And she needed the sensuality to cope with José Cura’s Samson: powerful, carnal, of real presence. If in his first ‘speech’ exhorting the Hebrew to free themselves from their chains the tenor mishandle the accuracy and the line of singing in the second act as a man torn between his God and Dalila he revealed mastery of his broad, solid tonal range, from the low register to the high. Cura unleashed in the third act, painfully, tragically.”  Le Soir, 21 September 2009

 

Samson et Dalila, Karlsruhe, October 2010:  “A prominent second jobber staged the first new opera production of the season for Karlsruhe: José Cura, one of the world's leading tenors and a sensational multi-talent. And the Argentine, who is a top-level singer and also active as conductor on occasion, designed and appointed the set for his acclaimed production of Saint-Saëns' Samson et Dalila as well. That he would take on the role of Samson to boot was all but obvious.

To come to the point right away: Cura knows his job, has mastered the director's craft. What he put on the stage of the Badische Staatstheater made sense. The singer-director offered up an altogether plausible version, which thankfully omitted superficial updating. Cura by no means abstained from referring to the present time; rather, he unquestionably comments on threats with which the world is faced these days. In his view, the themes molding this opera are power and domination, sex, betrayal, fanaticism, and killing driven by religious zeal. Thus, in Karlsruhe there were scenes of violence, brutality and warlike barbarity, of seduction and hypocritical eroticism, in which lust for power, hunger for revenge and unbridled blind passion characterized the actions of the main players.

The high priest of the Philistines functioned as manipulator, as mastermind of this cruel game; an unscrupulous power politician, he was first seen during his big, decisive duet with Dalila in a highly symbolic way as a larger-than-life shadow projected on a drop curtain, entering onto the scene only for the final part. By contrast, the children were carriers of hope and shining lights: the Philistine children as well as the Hebrew children, who wanted to play together peacefully in spite of the opposition of their relatives and even repeatedly found ways to prevent the worst.

The dynamism of Cura's production was captivating in many respects. For all its economy, the set design, a desert landscape with three stage-high watchtowers, "an abandoned oil camp" (Cura), also had an optical appeal of its own. The most hauntingly powerful moment staged was the excitingly intense and sensitively acted seduction and fake love scene, where Samson found himself continually entangled, caught in a white stage-high veil or net--code for Dalila's web of seduction.

Cura was brilliant as Samson, with an exquisitely colored, sonorous, in the high notes brightly shining tenor (voice). Moreover, he delivered a highly sensitive, multi-faceted character portrayal, fascinating vocally as well as for his acting.”  Rheinpfalz, October 2010  

 

Samson et Dalila, Karlsruhe, October 2010:  “The personal union of director, costume designer and stage designer does not necessarily lead to a successful artistic effort; nonetheless, this evening belonged to José Cura, towering in every respect.  And while one does not have to necessarily relocate the story from the Old Testament to the present day (symbolized by three abandoned oil derricks), Cura offered a logical, and quite sensitive interpretation that was still harmonious with the original. The audience celebrated the artist with frenetic applause.”    Opera Point, 17 October 2010,

 

Samson et Dalila, Karlsruhe, October 2010:  ‘That was one of the rare opera evenings that are etched on one's memory and you won't forget for your whole life. The first night of Saint-Saëns' opera Samson and Dalila at the Badische Staatstheater ended with standing ovations and was a real triumph for all participants. It is no exaggeration to speak of a great moment of opera, one that will go down in the annals of the top-class Karlsruher Staatsoper. You really don't know where to start with enthusing- best with the super fantastic singers who made the Opera House in Karlsruhe a world stage on this evening. What an exceptional singer is José Cura, whose Samson belongs with the best! With an extremely powerful, expressive, virile, and ideally supported Italian heroic tenor, he drew a convincing portrait of the biblical hero, whom he also gave a convincing profile through his acting. With utmost élan he threw himself into his role which didn't cause him even the slightest difficulties and whose murderous cliffs he mastered with great sovereignty and distinct technical skills.”  Der Operfreund, October 2010

 

Samson et Dalila, Karlsruhe, October 2010:  The stage is bathed in darkness; burning trash barrels provide the only light and warmth. Playing children burst onto the stage where their naive-carefree activities are broken off by the adults, in some cases by force. The adaptation and shifting of the here ever-present group of themes surrounding power, greed and domination into the children's world becomes a major element in the production's design. The Philistines in military uniform show brute force and demonstrate their merciless power over those who are subjugated. For the second act, an ultra-large white piece of fabric is fixed like a screen. In front of it are a number of white pillows, where Dalila and her attendants lounge in eager anticipation of Samson's arrival. Dalila is now dressed in a white robe (black in Act 1), but it doesn't take long to suspect that this is not the white of innocence but is used for deceitful seduction. A frame is formed in that for the third act, there is a return to the initial set.

Formidable [was] José Cura (Samson), who brought his character into focus with enormous intensity. Masterly and at all times credible, he offered glimpses into the deepest recesses of his character's soul by means of his elastic tenor-with transparency and great sensitivity he outlined the conflict between unshakeable allegiance to God and love of a rival.

It was José Cura's evening, outstanding in every respect. One doesn't necessarily have to shift this subject matter from the Old Testament into the present time (three shut-down derricks) but that one can nonetheless succeed in [doing so] in a very coherent manner with an interpretation that is inherently logical and absolutely sensitive, was clearly shown by this production. The audience celebrated the artists with frenetic applause.”  OperaPoint 17 October 2010

 

Samson et Dalila, Karlsruhe, October 2010:  José Cura has a message: violence always begets violence. When the underdogs prevail they in turn become the oppressors. His message fits this opera, which the Argentinean star tenor knows inside and out. He has sung the role often and has become exasperated with productions that remain stuck in distant Biblical times. Although the story is from the Old Testament, for Cura the material is timeless. The Badisches Staatstheater gave the singer the opportunity to develop Samson et Dalila based on his ideas: Cura created the stage design, the costumes, directed, and sang the role of Samson.

That’s a lot for a beginning director; Samson et Dalila is only Cura’s second [sic] production. He uses symbolic images to illustrate his concepts. Between the old oil derricks representing human greed he placed the choir and extras in a tableau with a dark orange backdrop that shows the misery of the oppressed. Children at play bring the scene to life, with the children of the victors playing with the children of the defeated until parents chase the others away. This moment is not in the libretto or the Bible. José Cura introduced the children to show that all the hope for the future lie in the friendship of the children on both side.

Again and again Cura builds small scenes in which the children place themselves in harm’s way to protect their friends from the other side. At the end, when Samson buries himself and his enemies under the collapsing oil derricks, the children run on stage to symbolize a world free of violence and counter violence. Cura seeks to show that this well-known spiral is not just in the Middle East conflict by the use of torture and murder. Abimelech beats the conquered Israelites until he is killed by Samson. The Israelites celebrate when they learn of the victory of the uprising but Cura counters the victory hymn by returning [from the battle] carrying the dead. 

In Cura’s production Samson’s opponents, the high priest of the Philistines and Dalila, do not shrink [from violence]. The priest shoots a prisoner; Dalila is quick with the dagger and her maidens, who first appear as visions from another world comforting the battle-weary Israelite warriors, turn out to be bloodthirsty sluts who in the last act cut the throats of the prisoners. Not every symbol that Cura introduces fits together, but his message is clear.

Cura shone when singing the emotional outbursts of Samson, his sung prayer for power were of impressive intensity. The audience of the Badisches Staatstheater reveled in Cura’s exceptional, wonderfully warm and powerful voice. The applause at the premiere showed real empathy between the singer-director and Karlsruhe.”  Badisches Tagblatt, October 2010

 

Samson et Dalila, Karlsruhe, October 2010:  All-round star José Cura did himself triple credit in one swat and secured a publicity-hype rarely seen in this form for the ambitious Karlsruhe Opera House. In previous years, one had been able to experience the outstanding tenor here in several key roles of his repertoire, most recently in his signature role of Otello. He has been following his calling as conductor even at the major houses on a number of occasions and has been thoroughly successful. What is more, he had introduced himself as director with Verdi's Ballo at the Cologne Opera House in 2008. 

In Karlsruhe José Cura was given the special honor of directing, set designing, and singing the lead role simultaneously. The experiment was successful with only the smallest of missteps, bringing a much celebrated triumph to the theater and the singing-director. The exceptional project lent wings to the ensemble and created an artistic result that would do credit to any international operatic stage. 

Cura makes no effort to conceal the fact that the excesses of the Regietheater are not his style. Nevertheless, his version of the Samson story is not historical correct and seeks a middle course between a careful update and a clear focus on the core message of the Biblical drama.

Camille Saint-Saëns’ Samson et Dalila has always been difficult to stage effectively since its static chorus scenes seem closer to oratorio than to a passionate, theatrically effective opera. Set in a gloomy oil field in modern times, this production references the current potential for conflict in the Middle East without exploring more deeply the political dimensions. In this respect, the production remained a bold one, motivated by the atmospheric and committed to a point of view. For the more intimate scenes of the second act with its fateful meeting with Dalila, Cura surprised with powerful metaphors that stunned most particularly in its simplicity. The warm and enthusiastic encouragement he earned at the end was not just for the highly gifted singer-actor.

José Cura left no doubt that he must still be considered in the forefront in the heroic roles such as Samson. In his baritone-like timbre, the dramatic fire of his performance and the sheer impact of his effort, but also the delicate lyricism enabled by his technique, he impressed once more. Julia Gertseva was an equal partner. This second act gave free rein to emotions and brought to the Karlsruhe opera a vocal triumph of the highest level, one which should rank [high] when writing the history of the theater.”  Opernglas, 15 October 2010

 

Samson et Dalila, Karlsruhe, October 2010:  He would have been called a ‘jack of all trades’ in earlier days; nowadays he is multi-talented. José Cura is no longer content to merely sing. He conducts often; he has performed, for example, Puccini’s Butterfly at the Vienna State Opera. However, this tenor of the first rank wants even more. He worked as a director and set designer in Cologne with Verdi’s Ballo in Maschera, then in Nancy and at home in Buenos Aires. And now Karlsruhe-- he offers himself in Camille Saint-Saëns' opera Samson and Dalila as director, set designer and eponymous hero.

No question he is able to do it. What he does is professional. It is strong and discussable and certainly not a show act for Kultur-Boulevard. Cura is surely no revolutionary director; still he does not lose sight of the present. The first and third acts do not play out in either a ‘large square in Gaza City’ or inside the temple of Dagon but instead in an abandoned oil camp. And it is not the temple that the blinded and abused Hebrew muscle man Samson causes to collapse with the help of his God—it is the drilling rigs that are beginning to topple when the curtain falls.

Cura also invents [the role] of the children: that the kids (“Children are the letters we write to the future”) from warring nations play peacefully together and protect each other from their own leaders is one of the better takes.

One of the visual strengths is the ‘love’ scene between the title couple. Dalila is paid by the High Priest of the Philistines to elicit the secret of Samson’s strength, his thick main of hair: an act of lying and an unscrupulous use of sexual power in the service of the state. The love scene is infamously ‘staged’ by Dalila and Cura shows this clearly–and with a simple pictorial idea of entanglement: a stage-high white curtain veil in which Samson gets caught and is literally wrapped.

The unmistakable strength of the evening actual apart from a few diffuse moments in the strings was the high musical quality. Dalila was sung by the very credible Russian Julia Gertseva, slim mezzo soprano who only right at the top was sometimes a trace too shrill. And Cura the singer? An apparently fully mature steel-voiced tenor, blessed with the right material who mastered the gestures of the folk hero as well as the desperate lyricism of the humiliated. The ovation at the end seemed somewhat like an anticipated premiere party.”  Badische-Zeitung, 20 October 2010  

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  Fortunately, the protagonists were played by magnetic soloists who distracted from an increasingly fizzling production. The prominent tenor José Cura was a thoroughly seductive Samson despite a somewhat constricted vibrato during the first act. His voice loosened up for a powerful performance at the onset of the third act in which the chained hero desperately prays to God. His visceral but vulnerably expressed singing brought a palpable spiritual dimension to the story.”  NPR, May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “Jose Cura demonstrated that Saint-Saëns' music can produce deep emotions of utmost intensity by means of the minutest alterations in sound.” Klassic, 15May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  This gross error of interpretation, bad taste and lack of sensitivity cost Kinmonth merciless boos and catcalls from the time the curtain fell at the interval to the end in spite of anything the excellent performances of the great Bulgarian mezzo-soprano Vesselina Kasarova and the brilliant Argentinian tenor José Cura (a Samson with enormous dramatic power and rich sound) could do to remedy. There was a standing ovation from the audience for the singers. But when Kinmonth and Darko Petrovic (co-costume designer) appeared to give thanks and take leave, the booing and catcalls reach an unprecedented level for this stage. In short, this was a production to hear rather than see.”  Mundocalssico, 14 June 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  Unfortunately, Kinmonth didn’t have the slightest idea how to inject movement into his stiff, hermetically sealed model. So it was a great shock when two cattle cars rolled onstage in the closing minutes, apparently summoned by Samson’s strength and devotion to God, to ship the Philistines to you-know-where. It was frustrating and totally incongruous with the music: the Hebrews’ revenge on the Philistines is sending them to the ovens. The suggestion would be in bad taste anywhere. In Berlin, it was appalling.

Fortunately, the evening’s musical elements were less repugnant. José Cura, now in his late forties, has sung Samson all over the world. He is a powerful, forceful tenor with burnished tones and thrilling top notes, but his phrasing can be confusing and the results uneven. He had moments of transcendence and heroism. He sounded stiff and leaden in his Act I entrance (the top hat and cane may have contributed to this impression); he fared better in the love duet but really came into his own in his Act III lament and prayer to God. He projected anguished, almost cantorial tones and attacked this exquisite music with tormented, fearful precision. The evening concluded with generous ovations for the singers and satisfying boos for Kinmonth and his team.”  Opera News, August 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “Jose Cura's Samson, virile and enormously touching in the third act, does not sport a mane of long hair. The singer does without macho affectations, and at the end he is no suicide bomber, who causes Dagon's temple to come crashing down, either.  Pensive, with top hat and walking cane or without, he acts the part of defender of his Lord, Jehova, God of the Jews, transcending time as it were.” HNA, 31 May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “Two protagonists in particular put themselves in the service of music and action with complete devotion and had inspired each other to singular levels of achievement. [A] moment of really great singing was Samson's solo scene at the beginning of the third act. Here, José Cura exhibited the full range of his mastery both as a singer and as an actor; based on excellent technique and breath control, he sang with pure, unbridled emotion, which went straight to the heart. After an initially restrained start, the singer, who has grown and matured in this role over many years, escalated (his performance) brilliantly, so much so that the big duet between Samson and Dalila was a total delight in its gripping intensity. In principle, this should have triggered a storm of applause. That it failed to materialize and instead boos and subsequent vulgarities made the rounds in the auditorium, is to be attributed to the directing, which was obviously all but insufferable for many a patron. Indeed, the director opens himself to criticism less for the radicalism of his conception than for the as yet poorly developed ability to offer workable, convincing directing and guidance. Here, the singers--fortunately deeply charismatic--were often left to manage the challenges on their own, were frozen in theatrical gestures or preoccupied with awkward, meaningless gimmicks.”  Opernglas, 15 May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “The roles of the protagonists were taken by the extremely prominent José Cura and Vesselina Kasarova.  The tenor, who has emerged over time as both composer and director, no longer sings with his original captivating ease but remains capable of intense expression, as with his dying piani, for compelling effect. He also showed special talents as an emcee when the curtain for the final applause remained down too long …”  Neue Musikzeitung, 16 March 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “José Cura looked striking as Samson and sounded great.  He certainly has the physical and vocal presence that the role requires and he was consistently intense of the stage.  It was certainly not his fault that this particular Samson was staged…” Operamagazine, 17 May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “One of the most interesting evenings of the season.  José Cura in his signature role as the hero with the potent pile, i.e. with the power of an unstinted head of hair, has the perfect hair for Samson and the right (kind of) chest, too. From there he produces those steel-sobs typical for him by the dozen. Respect. Currently there is no one to match him in this. With his Otello, we had already come to appreciate that he likes to plunge into old, familiar roles in entirely new ways. Alongside Laurent Naouri and Ante Jerkunica he contributes decisively to one of the vocally most interesting evenings of the season.” Kulturradio, , 16 May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “Hardly challenged dramatically, José Cura concentrated his force on producing trumpet-like tones, increasingly successful as the evening progressed.”   Der Standard, 24 May 2011  

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “José Cura, who has sung Samson almost as often as he has sung Canio, has a strong, controlled vibrato and knows how to use it as a temple for his broken character, developing it was amazing vehemence and authority.” Die Welt, 17 May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Berlin, May 2011:  “José Cura produced some powerful, ringing sounds, though his portrait failed to disguise the fact that the part of Samson is woefully underwritten in dramatic terms.” Intermezzo, 15 May 2011

 

Samson et Dalila, Beijing, September 2015:  It the evening’s performance, the world famous tenor José Cura, who played Samson, was particularly noteworthy.  His was a great and glorious voice, full of dramatic tension, resonant as a warrior, tender and confused when bewitched, remorseful and sorrowful after betrayal.  Especially in the third act, when Samson sang the famous prison aria “Vois ma misère, hèlas,” Cura’s singing vividly depicted his misery, confession, and sincere repentance.  When Samson regains his power and suddenly pulled down the pillars, his penetrating voice was powerful, impressive.” ChinaNews, September 2015

 

Samson et Dalila, Beijing, September 2015:  If you had been at the rehearsal for the B cast the day before, you would have heard a young Latvian with a powerful, dramatic tenor and certainly have been roused to rejoice that here, finally, was a good tenor! But last night at the premiere performance of Samson et Dalila with super tenor José Cura, we understood that the Latvian tenor was a mere “mortal” while José Cura is the true “god”!  At the end of the opera, as he toppled the temple pillars, he sent out a burst of extremely powerful voice and generated a strong aura that was absolutely shocking to the heart and soul of the audience, so much so that after the curtain opened again there was ecstatic, almost Carnival-like cheer and applause to compliment the true “god….José Cura, singer, conductor, composer, director, and photographer, is one of the world’s best Samsons.  In the premiere he had a very different sound approach in every scene, so that his Superman-like character is full and strong.  His grand, dramatic and explosive sound, enough to restore the “divine power” of Samson, allowed him at the last minute to bring down the Philistine temple and kill three thousand Philistines. Beijing Morning Post, September 2015

 

Samson et Dalila, Beijing, September 2015:  “In the premiere, José Cura was exceptionally impressive in the role of Samson, presenting a complete Samson from the sonorous brave warrior of unquestioned integrity through the man bewitched by (lusting after) flesh, finally transitioning to regret and sadness after being betrayed.  Especially in the third act, when the imprisoned Samson sang the famous aria “Vois ma misère, hèlas,” Cura’s employed a tearful singing voice to offer a vivid portrait of a the misery in Samson’s heart and his sincere repentance. BJWD, September 2015

 

Samson et Dalila, Beijing, September 2015:  In the National Theater production of Samson et Dalila, the singer playing Samson is José Cura.  In this performance, his singing was most glorious, not only because of the open voice and the high notes suffused in golden light but in its proper dramatic grasp.  Such is his vocal power, divinely manifested, that the loud, confident voice, the pianissimo is response to Dalila and the expressions of penance when he cries out to God, are all carefully managed.  In performance terms, José Cura, from start to finish, had such boldness about him, whether he encouraged the Hebrews when he sang [Arrêtez, ô mes frères] or when he acknowledges his love for Dalila “May God’s lightning swift overwhelm me / I struggle with my fate no more! / I know on earth no power above thee” that it was the hearts of the audience that burned….In short, being able to watch Samson et Dalila on our home opera stage was good fortune, especially to be able to listen to José Cura sing and to witness his performance.” Beijing Times, September 2015

 

Samson et Dalila, Beijing, September 2015: The story of the ‘hero who becomes a prisoner’ is an opera that can be said to be something of a José Cura masterpiece. Over nearly twenty years, in several productions of Samson et Dalila, Cura has brought his interpretation countless times to this ancient Biblical story. This, however, was his first visit to Beijing, the first time this tragic hero has appeared on a Chinese stage. …  The fourth tenor in the world really did not let the audience down.  Last night, his voice was full of dramatic tension for each of Samson’s “three faces.”  Whether presenting the sonorous voice of the warrior in the first act, the confused lustful tenderness in the second, and finally, in the third, the sound of the betrayed, remorseful and sorrowful, Cura’s voice was always full of character. Especially in the third act, with Samson’s eyes removed and the hero secured within a prison, he sang the famous aria “Vois ma misère, hèlas;” he vividly tells of Samson’s misery with tearful singing, presenting the abject hero with meticulous accuracy.”  BJRB and BJ Xinhua, September 2015

 

Samson et Dalila, Beijing, September 2015:  On the international opera stage, it is often said that the dramatic tenor is the hero with the “Golden Trumpet.”  Last night at the National Theater premiere of the opera Samson et Dalila, world famous tenor José Cura let the Beijing audience experience a truly dramatic tenor with that gold trumpet style: Cura plays Samson as a god and from the first scene his voice was loud and clear.  Even though the orchestra filled every corner of the theater with music, Cura let you feel God’s power.

José Cura has performed Samson for twenty years and his countless performances have enabled him to understand the character so that not every word is powerfully sung; when he faces Dalila’s temptation, his voice becomes very gentle. Although the Cura sound is not the lyrical tenor voice we are used to, in its strong flavor and breath control José Cura grasps the emotions of the singing, changing up and down.  In the Act III prison scene, when he sang the aria “Vois ma misère, hèlas,” the volume varied from weak to strong, full of emotion when singing pianissimo while at other times making a sound like a mighty bell, making this music strike the hearts of the audience with Cura’s voice changes.  Meanwhile, José Cura showed his strong interpretation on the stage as Samson, displaying both sadness and anger.”  Art.ifeng, September 2015

@ Royal Opera House 1996

Debut in Role

Same production subsequently used in 2001 in Barcelona when Cura famously stepped on stage at the last minute to replace ailing José Carrerras

Samson et Dalila, London, January / February 1996:  “Due to the sterling efforts of José Cura, the young Argentinean who never seems to put a foot wrong. His Samson is full of soul; a commanding and vibrant tenor performance that captures the Hebrew leader's weaknesses with as much theatrical devotion as his god-like strengths.”  The Evening Standard, January 1996

Samson et Dalila, London, January/February 1996:  “José Cura is picking up a lot of dates that the Three Tenors cannot or will not manage and is proving himself a worthy Fourth.  An earlier problem of unfocused pitch when singing softly is receding, and the great thing is that he does sing softly:  much of the erotic charge of the second act was a result of his sensitive caresses of the vocal line.  At full throttle the sound is thrilling and this big, handsome man certainly brings a Victor Mature dimension to this portrayal of Samson, flaunting as much lower limb as the dancers in the Bacchanale. (And not all of it that low--I have not seen so much tenor rump on the Convent Garden stage since Peter Hoffmann accidently exposed himself in Parsifal.)”  The Times, January 1996

Samson et Dalila, London, January 1996:  “And there’s superbly musical singing from the Samson of José Cura, the young Argentine tenor who has made his reputation at the Garden.  It’s a handsome, firm, incisive sound, and Cura makes a powerful presence on the stage. The audience was ecstatic.”  Independent on Sunday, 4 February 1996

Samson et Dalila, London, January 1996:  “José Cura adds to his growing reputation and repertoire of roles with a charismatic and sexy Samson. He generates a powerful intensity and flashes enough calf and thigh to convince he is capable not only of leading the Israelites but of inflaming Dalila’s heart—no wonder she is cross he ditched her after a single day of passion. His ardent and sensitive singing movingly projects Samson’s anguished soul. ‘Vois ma misère’ (Act III) was heartrending.”  The Stage, 8 February 1996

Samson et Dalila, London, January 1996:  “José Cura looks and sounds the part of Samson, strongly athletic and in very robust voice, he makes the part come alive completely.”  What’s On London, 7 February 1996

Samson et Dalila, London, January 1996:  “Argentinian tenor José Cura, singing Samson for the first time, gives a superb performance in the opera by Camille Saint-Saëns and proves that he is surely one of the up-and-coming top tenors of the Nineties.”  The Lady, 6 January 1996

Samson et Dalila, London, January 1996:  “José Cura proved a sensitive and touching Samson.  His top notes in the love duet were luminous, almost falsetto, tender, and he sang a long, expansive lyrical line; yet in his final scene he managed to summon up almost raucous determination.   The single greatest scene of the opera was his extended solo, pushing the grinding wheel to which he's manacled around the harshly lit circle of the threshing floor;  pity and savagery blended in this complete portrayal of a man--just a man, not a hero;  a man torn between emotions, brooding, [as] obsessive as the music.  (Taking his curtain call, he seemed still stunned by the emotions of the role.)

Moshinsky's production did not make the best of the potential of the design, failing to mass his chorus with enough power.  The most dramatic moment of the betrayal is muffed.  Moshinsky stand[s] rebuked, in my mind, by the power of Cura's solo scene--so much more convincing than any of the traffic directing the rest of the production.”  Our World, February 1996

José Cura performance dates:

30 January 1996

2, 5, 10, 15 February 1996

 


 

Turin - 1997

Reviews

The opening of the season at the Teatro Regio in Turin, with a Samson and Dalila will remain in the annals. From the moment the curtain rises, the shock is such that the audience applauds enthusiastically.  José Cura gives Samson all the strength of his magnetic presence, all the energy of a program of an unprecedented arrogance. Playing with his physique  - he hides no detail - and especially of a timbre which he projects with the insolence of a Del Monaco, the Argentinean tenor, roaring like the most beautiful lions, is confirmed as the only plausible interpreter of the role since the retirement of Jon Vickers.  Give in to the pleasure of listening to a real and great voice, generous, vibrant and that one would think indestructible, as was that of some sacred monsters of the years 1950-1960. The singer, moreover, doubles as a modern actor, which no Samson had been before him.  A Samson and Dalila to urgently invite to Paris.  Opera, December 1997

 


The protagonists chosen in Turin have fully fulfilled their task as singers and actors, beginning with José Cura, a young Argentinean tenor who has become the most important voice in the lyric-driven and dramatic repertoire. Abandoning the approximations that sometimes distinguish his interpretations, Cura has prepared meticulously for his debut in Italy as Samson, understanding the many expressive facets of the role and producing a vocal line of undeniable excellence.  Once the audience has indulged with admiration in the youthful boldness and the athletic display stemming from the good looks of the singer--all of which has great relevance in an opera such as Samson et Dalila--one cannot deny that the Argentinean tenor gives an equally handsome and impressive vocal delivery hallmarked by mature expressivity.  The color of the voice is that already familiar to us, dark and burnished, but at the same time and when needed rounded and soft... His entry into the first act - where he emerges with the strength of a hero who rises to lead the Jewish people from the chains of slavery - has the muscularity required combined with enthusiasm and confidence. In the sensual tenderness of the duet with Dalila in the second act he enriches his phrasing with the right expressive accents. He is excellent in the third act, singing with great participation through very refined interpretation, all of which conveys the physical and spiritual suffering of Samson. All in all, a new test, not without some flaws, that confirms the qualities of a tenor who is one of the most interesting tenor voices in the international scene.   L’Opera, August / September 1998

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “José  Cura establishes his character with restrained impetus, a giant attracted by the earth and tied to it, who finds the strength to break this bond only in the last scene, at the moment of the destruction of the temple.  A great success for Cura….”  Opera, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  José Cura is fantastic. His voice, which is both powerful and heroic, is also able to create an atmosphere of introspective self-confession, while the timbre darkens to express the bitterness of a man who recognizes he has betrayed himself and been betrayed.”  Avvenire, 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  Cura fascinated his audience with his brilliant voice, with its ample tone, perfect intonation and his powerful stage presence. As Samson, the singing actor Cura cannot be beaten.” Das Opernglas, 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “The Argentinian tenor gives to Samson all the strength of his magnetic presence, all the energy of a vocal emission of unseen arrogance. Cura confirms himself to be the only possibly imaginable performer for Samson since Jon Vickers’s retirement.”  Opera International, 1997  

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “Bravo, José Cura!  Cura’s Samson asserts his strength without undue athleticism, with particular attention to the nuances and the nobility of the score.”  La Stampa, 22 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997:  “José Cura was an excellent Samson, very accurate in the psychological definition of the character and credible in both voice and the appearance. “ Corriere della Sera, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “The protagonist José Cura sang very well, making himself admired also as an actor. Ronconi dressed him as Tarzan, with an ironic touch, in tune with the music of Saint-Saëns: Cura played along, drawing a Samson who, within the limits of the character, was truly torn between duty and erotic attraction. When, blind and shorn, appearing destroyed, tied to the mill, his figure was that of a withered giant, very suggestive.”  La Stampa, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “How different the performance would have been without the contribution of a tenor suited to the part - in physique and voice - like José Cura, who, though endowed with a stentorian and nasal emission, also sang softly into the ears if his Dalila with a burnished and persuasive timbre.”  Ritaglio Stampa,  31 January 1998

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura was very good, a powerful protagonist always in possession of the role.”  La Repubblica, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “Even for professionals Samson et Dalila is a rarity: very few voices in the world have the characteristics necessary to impersonate the protagonists and among these few stands the Argentine tenor Josè Cura (already applauded as Samson at Covent Garden in London).” Il Tempo, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura sets up his character with restrained impetus, a giant attracted to the earth and bound to her, who finds the strength to break this link only in the last scene, when the temple is destroyed.  A great success for Cura …”  Il Manifesto, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “Samson—sumptuous, faithful, effective with a cast appropriate to the score [offering] great vocal richness. José Cura is a generous Samson, ardent, bold even in the high notes.”  L’Unita, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “A long final applause, which lasted for at least 5 minutes, marked the success of Samson et Dalila in Turin on Tuesday evening. The French opera had never been performed in Turin and the beautiful staging by Luca Ronconi was able to make a breakthrough with the usually not-very-warm audience. Critical reviews were also enthusiastic, some of whom spoke of this as an historical event.   Very few voices in the world have the necessary characteristics to perform these two protagonists and among these, José Cura and Carolyn Sebron stand out ...” L’Eco di Bergamo, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “…much has also been said about [the costume designer] being able to exploit the athletic musculature of interpreter José Cura, a well-tested tenor who here expressed to the fullest the vocal and dramatic possibilities of the role.  His voice was clear and had a heroic ring, even in the most uncomfortable positions.“ Il Piccolo, 23 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura's voice had indubitable strong points [with] a beautiful low register and manly, well-positioned highs.  The role of Samson is surely more appropriate than others to this voice, so the powerful highs in the heroic moments and the precious pianissimi in elegiac ones united with his athletic qualities and a Tarzan-like acting in making Mr. Cura a really believable Samson, perfect on stage.” OperaWeb, 30 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “The deeply felt aspect of the work was finally completed by the thunderous performance of José Cura in the role of Samson; the handsome Argentinian tenor concentrated on a roaring interpretation, painted in strong colors. ” Il sole 24 Ore, 26 October 1997

Samson et Dalila, Turin, November 1997: “José Cura is a fine Samson in both voice and physique and bare-chested roles are now his specialty.”  Il Giornale, 23 October 1997

Note:  These articles and reviews are based on a machine-based translation.  We offer them only a a general guide but none should not be considered definitive.

 

Preparing to Meet Samson with José Cura

 

Corriere della Sera

21 October 1997

Guiseppina Manin

 The 35-year-old Argentinian tenor with a beautiful presence and a wonderful voice, already appreciated in Abbado's Otello, has decided to intensify his visits to the gym. Every day, in addition to the usual vocalizations, he has added a good dose of weights, push-ups and extensions--exercises familiar to him, since before Cura began singing he was an athlete and a martial arts master of karate.

So tonight, at the "premiere" of Samson et Dalila by Camille Saint-Saëns at Teatro Regio, his muscles, tuned and oiled to the right point, promise to open the eyes of even the most sleepy of spectators. Especially since, at a certain point, he will appear on the stage wrapped only in chains. And nothing else. Do not miss the scene of the destruction of the Temple, with him shaking the columns to ruin in stones and dust. "And so be it," says Cura.  In the meantime, there has been a lot of distance from that biblical-body culture that fueled a lot of imagination and many popular films of the 50s and 60s, from DeMille's blockbuster where Victor Mature displayed his huge chest to impress Dalila to the more traditional Samson of Cinecittà, where Alan Steel swelled his muscles against a series of improbable enemies, including the Black Corsair.

“A divine warrior, but also a sadistic revolutionary,” continues Cura. “One who took a jawbone of an ass to warm up his muscles and killed a thousand in one fell swoop. Who ripped apart a lion and attached torches to the tails of the foxes to burn the [Philistines’ crops].  One could call him the Che Guevara of the Old Testament, an agitator who fights for a cause regardless of the methods. Even today many politicians resemble him. And a Samson is hiding in each of us ...”

But Samson is not just that.  A brute, yes, but one with a soul.  When his biceps were put out of action by the cutting of his hair by the treacherous Dalila, the cruel giant discovered another self. "Deprived of everything, of the freedom of sight, perhaps even of manhood, he comes back to God in a different way: not with the arrogance of strength but with the strength of a pure soul, in which case we should sing with the soul because that's how Samson speaks with God."

In conclusion, a nice cocktail of body and spirit.  "José can afford it. He has the "physique du ròle," laughs director Ronconi, who promises to wink at the old mythological films without forgetting the religious spirit that goes through history. "And without treading on the pedal of irony, in some cases it is more ironic to show things as they are."  He also rejected the temptations of current affairs, bringing back to the day our conflict between Jews and Philistine that takes place, in this case, in Gaza.

"Today the causes are above all political and economic, then religious crises. While even now the Almighty, who at the time hurled thunderbolts if a Jew had sex with an Arab, it seems to me, no longer takes any notice of it."

 

 

  

 

 

 

Samson, God’s Warrior

La Stampa

Armando Caruso

20 October 1997

 

[Computer-assisted translation //  Excerpts]

 

The protagonists of Samson et Dalila are the Argentine tenor Jose Cura and the African-American soprano Carolyn Sebron. The two mythical characters are brought to life on stage as symbols, the first one of ferocity and then of miraculous determination (Samson), and the second of wickedness as the priestess of terror (Dalila). 

José Cura, consecrated as the Otello of the year in 2000 and recognized as the Samson of our days, is the right tenor in the right place: a sculptured physique, a voice of shining enamel. He plays Samson with great awareness, having studied all his psychological facets, his historical and legendary aspects. He claims: "You have to know how to read the Bible. Samson is, if you like, one of the most interesting characters in Biblical literature. A superficial man if you read him as a hero who believes only in his strength but one becomes fascinated if you consider him an envoy of the Lord, a holy man who finds, in divine blessing, the human dimension. The cutting of his hair is almost always a banality; in truth it is the symbol of a strength that lives by the will of God.”

You are the Samson of the future....

"I am a Samson aware that my strength does not depend on me. I was chosen to represent on stage the beauties of melodrama, of music. Alone, without the strength of my faith, I would be nothing. Before singing I always pray that God gives me the opportunity to express the wonder of his being.”

Are there differences between the Samson of the early act and the last act?

Certainly. Samson is a warrior ready to kill with a donkey's jaw. In the last act, he is a divine warrior.  He feels the nakedness of his soul and prays to God to give him back the strength to save the Jewish people.

 

Samson in Turin

La Repubblica

Susanna Franchi

21 October 1997

 

[Computer-assisted translation // Excerpt]

 

Five months after his highly acclaimed debut in Otello, José Cura returns to Turin for another tenor hero role, that of Samson (which he has already sung in London).

"This is a role that fascinates me a lot, a role that is a real life lesson. First of all it makes us understand that all the strength in the world, if it is not united with divine strength, if it does not also have love, is useless. Here, the idea is that God gives you a gift, be it strength or something else, even singing, and you have to make the most of it in the best way. Each of us is a Samson because we have a gift, but we must not make the mistake of the biblical hero: believing that we are omnipotent, believing that we are the true owners of this strength. Only when he is defeated, stripped of everything superfluous, blind, weak and in my opinion even castrated, will Samson understand that it was the strength of God that manifested itself through him. And then he will ask the Lord not to abandon him but instead to help him, to inspire him to be able to defeat the Philistines. When I come on stage I think exactly the same thing: the voice is a divine gift, and it is God who gave it to me.  If I am on a stage is not because I am more handsome or smarter than others, it is because I have had this wonderful gift."

Vocally what do you think of this character?

"The mistake is to confuse his voicing of the role with the strength of the character.  Samson is a strong man but he sings French bel canto.  The role should never be shouted or forced. It is a role that is rich in colors, nuances, with a lot of sensuality.  The only exception is at the beginning of the opera, when Samson has to convince his people to rebel.  Then he is a warrior, later comes the quiet voice, the half tones.  It is a very beautiful role.  Tenors who have sung Otello and also Wagner have also sung Samson, but it is a unique role, very different from Otello and Wagner.

 

Cura, the "Tenor of God"

La Stampa

Armando Caruso

23 October 1997

 

[Computer-assisted translation // Excerpt]

José Cura, the dramatic tenor of the 21st century, the Samson of the future who fascinated the ladies in the theater at the Regio with his sculpted physique and the brilliance of his voice, flew to Paris yesterday morning.

"It's my new homeland because Italy didn't want me. I would have liked to continue living in Verona, to take Italian citizenship, but it was inexplicably denied to me."

Complaints aside, the Argentine José Cura, who will soon sing Samson et Dalila for Erato, is happy about the inaugural success of the season at the Regio. He received compliments from the superintendent Giorgio Balmas, who told him: "I was worried about you when I saw you tumbling from one side of the stage to the other, writhing like a wounded beast. I feared you would hurt yourself." And Cura, joking: "Professor, you will soon realize it when you receive the letters from my lawyers asking for compensation: look at my legs, they are covered in bruises!"

José Cura, the "warrior of God," the tenor who always prays before going on stage for the strength to do well, seemed a little worried about his voice: "In the theater, didn’t you hear my cough? The dust filled my throat.  I was afraid I wouldn't make it though." He was reassured: in the theater you could only hear powerful high notes, middle and baritone notes, pianissimo in the love scene of the 2nd act that only a sensitive and enamored Samson could express.

The thirty-five-year-old tenor is "a good soul,"

"I sing to express the wonder of God, his infinite goodness. I would be nothing without God, just a man with a powerful voice and nothing else." Cura made his debut in Samson et Dalila a year and a half ago at Covent Garden: "In London I had one of the greatest honor of my life.  The head of the costume designers gave me the head band that once adorned the hair of the great tenor Jon Vickers."

Who is Samson for you? "In the first act of the opera he is a political agitator, a revolutionary.  H becomes a man who transforms into a divine warrior after being deceived by the wicked Dalila."

Your next important engagement? "Aida, which in January will inaugurate the new Imperial Theatre in Tokyo in an entirely Japanese edition. The direction will be by Zeffirelli. I will also debut at La Scala in Puccini's Manon.

Luca Ronconi, already back in Rome, is calmly satisfied by the endeavor.  "It's a show that works well both from a scenic and musical point of view. Opera always has surprises and traps in store, but I think that every uncertainty was brilliantly overcome. I must say that cast is superb.  Both Cura and Carolyn Sebron are singers and actors of great artistic caliber.”

[...]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Dangerous Cocktail

Prolog

Andreas Lang

March 2020

 

[Original text courtesy of José Cura]

 

KS José Cura has sung many important roles at the Vienna State Opera: prominent roles as well as main characters in rarities. "His" Samson was still missing in Vienna—this gap will now be closed in March and April.

 

Why are so few opera houses putting Samson and Dalila on the program? 

José Cura:  Aside from the voices required, the piece was originally conceived as an oratory, and as such, it has a static pace. You need very charismatic artists to make an attractive show out of it, otherwise, the risk of failure is huge. No matter how grand the production is, boredom could lie in wait… Of course you can “milk” some of the apparently slower moments, by using them as a sort of “build-up”, catching up to the necessary speed needed to hit the more dynamic ones, like the growing eruption of a volcano, what we call harnessing the “darks” to enhance the “light”—the job of a good director. But fighting against the style of the piece, trying to create a non stop “action movie” out of an oratorio, is a mistake. So, the actors’ stage presence is a must-have - and can also be a limitation!

Was Saint-Saëns an eclectic composer? What distinguishes his music? 

José Cura:  Considering his catalogue, we can say he was pretty eclectic for his time. In general his music is “broad” in phrasing and “fat” in harmonies, generally relying in the effective combination of these two. No surprise, having lived during the same period as Massenet and Bizet, becoming part of the main trio of the 19th century French music.

A critic once said: You can't tell from Saint-Säens' music whether he was kind, loving or capable of suffering? 

José Cura:  Trying to describe the personality of a writer by analysing his work is a dangerous venture which, mostly, risks destroying the very essence of fantasy: pretending.

What inspires you about Samson et Dalila as a singer? What inspires you about Samson et Dalila as a conductor and composer? 

José Cura:  As a singer, the perfect fit of its vocal lines with my instrument. Only singers can fully understand what I mean when I refer to this “fit” into your vocal resources. While it is the job of a professional singer to cope with the challenges of any role he decides to sing, it is only a handful of roles we can say we truly have under our skin. As a conductor, the biggest challenge is not to fall into the condescendence of the slow tempi we identify religious music with, otherwise, the already broad music of the piece becomes boring. It is also imperative to give to the spiritual passages of the piece, that feeling of turmoil which, ignited by the proper spark, turns into revolution, betrayal, and genocide. One trap we usually fall in is to treat the music of the last chorus, “Dagon se revèle”, as banal, saying Saint-Säens ran out of inspiration and wrote this “cheap" passage in order to finish the piece at once and cash his check… Could it have been that maybe the composer intended to banalise Dagon’s music in order to establish his deity as secondary compared to Samson’s? But it is for the director that Samson et Dalila reserves the biggest challenges. I have taken part in countless productions in my 25 years with the role and, regardless of their style, the ones that have failed have been those which negated the spiritual contents of the piece, trying to project other “raisons d’être” onto a work that basically “sits” on conflicts of faith and religion. This doesn’t mean we should refuse other types of aesthetic adaptations —a prerogative for a good director—, provided that the eventual stylistic deviation isn’t disconnected from the libretto’s content. One has the right to light Da Vinci’s Gioconda the way one judges to be better in order to accentuate certain aspects of the painting, not the right however, to paint a mustache on her chubby face because one deems it to make it better looking…

How singer-friendly is this opera written? 

José Cura:  No opera is singer friendly if you have neither the voice nor the technique. And vice-versa, obviously.

Would you confirm that the opera lives on dark colors? 

José Cura:  Any piece involving human interaction has to have dark colours implied. On top of that, if you mix sexuality with religion, you have a very dangerous cocktail. But one of the biggest questions is: was Samson the first suicidal “terrorist” ever? I mean, regardless of his reasons, one inescapable fact of this story is that Samson begs for his strength to return, not so that he can use it with newly acquired wisdom after having learned his lesson, but so that he can kill his enemies in one fell swoop.

Why isn't the opera called Samson? Why is Dalila equated?

José Cura:  Why isn't the opera called just Dalila?  The so called “Love duet”, which is not about love but about the exact opposite, is at the center of the dramaturgical engine of the libretto; being Samson’s Monologue in the third act, its Catharsis and Dalila’s sadistic mockery the necessary humiliation to perfectly close the punishment circle, calling the piece with both names is a must. I have a very touching anecdote regarding this “names” issue and the conflict that it may create at curtain calls: who has to take the last applause, the tenor or the mezzo? We solve this problem by letting the female lead take the last call, but in 1998, performing the piece with the great Denyce Graves in Washington, when I was about to come out for my applause, right before her, as usual, she stopped me with an non-to-be-discussed gesture and said: “after seeing what you did tonight, you deserve to be the last one”. This, apart from sealing my friendship with Denyce since then, shows that, regarding the title of the opera, the discussion is, at least emotionally, still open.

What distinguishes Samson as a special person? Is Samson a hero at all? It seems that his less mental faculties than physical ones? Is he an antihero? Is Dalila stronger than him? At least smarter?

José Cura:  A hero, according to the ancient Greek definition, is a person that embodies the best qualities of an individual, and who uses them in favour of the society he inhabits. Anyone can be a hero. But a “super-hero” is someone a step higher due to a specific quality, and in this sense, from Samson to Superman, the historical chronicles are animated with the same spirit: a supra-physical power to be used in favour of Justice. No wonder Samson was a Judge… He is not an antihero, that would have been easy for him, since an antihero is almost synonymous with “ordinary”. And it’s because he was not ordinary that his error cannot be judged ordinarily. He was a failed super-hero in the physical sense, and a deep spiritual disillusionment for his people, and for his God. Dalila was not stronger than him, from the moment she betrays him for money, not because of an inner conviction. But she was smarter, yes. Which woman is not smarter than a man, in general, and in particular when dealing with a sexually blinded male?

Could Dalila love Samson?

José Cura:  The struggle between heart and mind? What wins in the end? Would there be a tiny chance that the opera will end well?  It is, of course, possible to twist the ending, but then it is a different story altogether. If you choose to explore the implications of this particular narration, then you don’t have to distort it to fit your personal emotional instabilities or, worse, your political agenda. The story of Samson, from the Book of Judges, is an apologue, created with an educational purpose by the religious pedagogues of those days, to presumably teach about the risks of succumbing in the nets of sensuality and its immediate older sister, sexuality. Real love between a man and a woman, has nothing to do in this specific allegory.

What makes Dalila so interesting for Samson? That she is a forbidden fruit? 

José Cura:  Among the necessary ingredients in Samson’s personality —necessary to the educational purpose, I mean— is his predatory personality, reinforced by the complete misunderstanding of the real purpose of his physical strength. Same as in Verdi’s Otello, where the absence of Shakespeare’s first act in the opera’s libretto results in a dangerous misleading of the dramatic line, unless you study the Bard’s full text. In Samson et Dalila, the absolute lack of any mention of anything that happened before the start of the opera, makes the understanding of Samson’s psychology very difficult unless you study the text very closely. Samson was strong and temperamental, always ready to pick a fight in order to obtain what he wanted. He could easily kill whoever opposed him for the most banal of reasons, even one thousand in one shot (sic) a day in which he was specially upset. And the anecdote of the “Killing of the Lion”, so necessary to the raising of his status up to that of a demigod, as found in Greek mythology, is important for us to understand how hugely out of control his ego was. Not to mention Dalila was also the High Priest’s lover, which adds a very interesting spin on why Samson wanted to have her, apart from his obvious physical attraction for her: she was a juicy trophy! It is the Priest himself who asks Dalila to use her sexual power over Samson to obtain what he wanted. Nothing new in a world —show-business in particular - where sex and power are still so intricately connected.  

 


Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “There can be no denying that this is a young singer with extraordinary gifts--combining a full, ringing and powerful tenor voice (complete with marked baritonal shadings and just a hint of the trumpet) with a commanding and athletic stage presence.... the aria 'Vois ma misere' was sufficient to prove that Cura's singing is more than merely loud and hard and that he is capable of some ravishing legato phrasing.”  The Washington Post, 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “Argentinian tenor Jose Cura was the evening's newcomer and focus. Would he live up to rumor and recordings? I heard a young man of noble bearing, with a pure lyric-spinto voice that had a ping of emotion and a reserve of dramatic power: exciting stuff both now and potentially. As for acting, in Samson's scene blinded at the millstone he was interior, moving and tragic.”  Peabody News,  November 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “The chief reason for the anticipation was the presence of the much-talked-about Argentine tenor José Cura in the title role. It is a coup for the Washington Opera to have engaged Cura before he arrives at the Met next season. He is 35 and is already being touted as the man who will inherit the mantle of Placido Domingo in the heroically scaled roles of the lyric tenor repertory.  Cura's Samson in London's Covent Garden was much applauded a few seasons back, and his first performances of Verdi's Otello in Turin recently were enthusiastically received. And, as if to place his seal of approval upon predictions that the next Domingo is in our midst, the great tenor himself, who is the Washington company's artistic director and who still counts Samson among his signature roles, is making his Washington Opera debut as a conductor in this production.

So how good is Cura -- or, more to the point, how does he compare with the Domingo of 20 years ago? He certainly resembles the Spaniard superficially -- except that he is better-looking and is physically more imposing than the young Domingo was. And his tenor instrument is superb. Cura's voice may not convey the sweetness that Domingo's did (and still does), but it is beautiful enough and perhaps even more powerful. Even in the highest reaches of the role, Cura's notes never betrayed a hint of strain.  I also prefer Cura's interpretation of Samson (he has recorded the opera on just-released Erato 3984-24756) to that of Domingo at the same age. Cura is at least as forceful and expressive, but he gets inside the role in a way that I don't think the younger Domingo did, achieving a bottomless depth of despair in ‘Vois ma misere’ at the beginning of Act III.”  Baltimore Sun, 12 November 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “Ever since Luciano Pavarotti, Plácido Domingo and [José] Carreras turned into a novelty act playing football stadiums the hunt has been on for the next big tenor. One of the strongest claimants is José Cura, a 35-year-old Argentine bringing down the house (and the set) in Saint-Saëns' Samson et Dalila this month at the Washington Opera. A kung-fu black belt and bodybuilder, he looks the part of Samson. Better yet, he sings it. Thrilling at full throttle, as any Italianate tenor must be, Cura is even more impressive as a lyrical voice in his love duet with Denyce Graves, the Delilah of the Washington production. The surest measure of his artistry, however, is his nuance vocalism and tragic characterization of the blinded Samson.”  Richmond Times-Dispatch, 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “His is a voice of tremendous depth and range, knife-clean and well-supported.  As an added bonus, Mr. Cura is physically handsome and robust; he makes a highly believable and sexy Samson.  Mr. Cura is not afraid to take risks.  His gasping voice in the last act is not the voice of a superstar tenor divo neurotically hungering for applause.  At times, he chokes off his notes with a purposeful inaccuracy, intent on an honest, authentic portrayal of a beaten hero begging for God's help in one final act of vengeance.  It takes guts for a young singer to do this, and Mr. Cura has courage in reserve.” The Washington Times, Nov 1998

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “José Cura was a compelling Samson ….” Opera, January 1999

 

Samson et Dalila, Washington, November 1998:  “Advance publicity and fan page gush do not exaggerate Jose Cura's compelling physicality, admired on November 18, midway through the run of Washington Opera's Samson et Dalila. But most impressive is the way he puts the eye-candy at the service of a deep identification with his character. Clad in dazzling white, he bestrides Act I, a monument of physical strength and moral authority. His capitulation to Dalila comes as the all-too-topical downfall of a charismatic leader conquered by his own compulsions. Like an addict entering withdrawal, this Samson collapses into a passive heap upon Dalila's cushions -- muscles limp, eyes glazing. The effect is devastating. Dressed in tatters, smeared in blood, and nearly doubled over as he pushes the millstone, Cura in Act III embodies the character's abject shame with Strassbergian realism, setting up the final act of restored faith and divine retribution for a thrilling conclusion.  Oh, and he sings, too. Offering more punch than ping, Cura can't shake that "baritonal" label. Act I, where Samson is a kind souped-up Bach Evangelist, found him wanting in declamatory zeal and clarion edge. In Act II, he crooned a series of hooty "je t'aime"s, adding dubiously supported tone to his portrait of erotic submission. But in Act III, Samson's physical misery and moral torment paradoxically liberated Cura to a freer, Italianate attack that is clearly his natural métier. Suddenly the timbre had more juice, the phrasing more color, and the diction more bite.” Parterre Box, 18 November 1998

(Separate review):  Another 'risky' tenor is José Cura; when his voice and personality are clicking, he can be, I think, the most exciting singer of opera today.  Certainly his Samson with Washington Opera was a 'demented night (to use a useful term of supreme praise):  Cura's feral voice and film-star physical attractiveness limned the tragedy of a political superman brought low by his own sexual urges.  He whimpered the line "Dalila, Dalila, je t'aime' in a wavering falsetto, drunk with lust and trembling with self-loathing....

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Young Lion

Opera News

[Excerpts]

The first time I saw José Cura was last November, in Washington. A new production of Samson et Dalila at Washington Opera had begun with the chorus lying flat on the raked stage, then turning over in unison (like bacon self-turning in the frying pan), standing up and sitting down again. When they sat, there he was -- a towering vision in white, stunningly handsome, with a build like a Colossus, and exuding that quality so rare on the opera stage today -- charisma.

"Arrêtez, ô mes frères! Et bénissez le nom du Dieu saint de nos pères" (Cease, o my brethren! and bless the name of the Holy God of our fathers), he sang in a clarion voice that was powerful and exciting. His green [sic] eyes burned intensely, and when he compassionately put his hand on the shoulder of a Hebrew slave, I actually believed he could ease her suffering.

When the performance was over, the image that lingered during my train ride back to New York was of Cura as the blind Samson, grasping the young boy who was leading him through the crowd. I'm used to Samson holding the boy by the hand, but Cura clutched the child fiercely, clinging for dear life. The gesture was believable and brilliantly effective.

Before my Washington trip, I had been skeptical about the fast-rising tenor who was generating such juicy quotes as, "He comes as a 'whole package' -- exceptional voice, smoldering good looks and a captivating acting ability -- which a new generation of operagoers is clamoring for" (Antonia Couling in Opera Now). I, after all, had seen the great Samsons of Jon Vickers and Plácido Domingo; I was not about to be taken in by a Calvin Klein model, no matter how fine the packaging.

But José Cura is a genuine find: a serious musician with a burnished, baritonal sound. He is also an immensely charming yet shrewd man, with an obvious dedication to his art and an instinctive flair for drama -- especially as Samson, Don José, Andrea Chénier, Radamès, Des Grieux in Manon Lescaut and Turiddu in Cavalleria Rusticana. (Otello, which he first sang under Claudio Abbado in Turin in 1997, remains something of a work in progress.)

Turiddu is the vehicle for Cura's Metropolitan Opera debut, on September 27 -- the first half of a gala doubleheader opening night ending with Plácido Domingo in Pagliacci. The occasion combines the eagerly awaited introduction of New York audiences to the dramatic tenor whose voice and stage presence are a throwback to the days of Franco Corelli and Mario Del Monaco, with Domingo's eighteenth opening night at the Met, breaking the first-night record set by Enrico Caruso. The evening's two tenors have a special bond: in 1994, Cura was a winner of Domingo's International Operalia Competition, and Domingo has endorsed his younger colleague by conducting Cura's first solo recording -- the 1997 Puccini Arias -- and signing him on for both last season's Samson and this season's Otello at Washington Opera.

José Cura, the third Great Tenor Hope to make his Met debut in as many years, is the only one of the three likely to go into the record books as a successful debutant. (Roberto Alagna's nerves got the better of him in his 1996 debut in La Bohème; and Marcelo Álvarez's affably bland Alfredo got lost in the company's monster Zeffirelli production of La Traviata last year.) The fact that magazines and newspapers around the world, desperate for a successor to the triumvirate of Pavarotti, Domingo and Carreras, have anointed Cura "The Fourth Tenor" irks the singer. "If I am the fourth tenor, who is the third, the second or the first?" he demands. "It's a title that doesn't mean anything."

In this age of hype, titles do of course mean something to the general public, but hype is a double-edged sword: while the accolades encourage a sort of frenzied anticipation, they also foster the honing of critical knives. Cura, who could do no wrong a couple of years ago, is now in the crosshairs of certain writers (notably Rodney Milnes, whose scathing review of the tenor's Otello appeared in the London Times last May 19). It helps that he has the good fortune not to be afflicted with stage fright -- even when a dress rehearsal has been a major disaster, or an opening night is fraught with glitches. Case in point: the first night of Samson at Washington Opera, when the temple came crashing down three bars too soon. Cura kept singing as if everything were going according to plan.

"My instinctive reaction was not to run away from the stage but to try to save the production," says the tenor, pausing mid-bite over a bowl of risotto at Café des Artistes in New York during our interview. "I'm never scared onstage -- there's nothing that can surprise me. I don't know if it sounds arrogant, but I'm so well prepared. I've been onstage more than half my life."

The singer has no doubt read a story or two in which he's been described as "arrogant," but at our first interview he comes across as cordial, polite, thoughtful, intelligent and humorous. He's obviously used to being interrupted by fans and people in the business -- at one point a well-known artist manager stops by to chat, shouting "Cura!" as he approaches our table -- yet somehow the tenor manages to stay focused on whatever question he's been asked, easily picking up where he left off.

True, Cura has strong opinions about the direction he wants his career to take, but he doesn't exhibit a pompous or overbearing attitude. He simply knows who he is and how hard he worked to get to where he is today.


Tenor of The Times

The Washington Post

Pierre Ruhe

November 11, 1998

 

The opera world -- which has long been searching for an heir to the overhyped Three Tenors -- may have found him in an Argentine composer and conductor who once worked as a body-building instructor.

"I'm a musician by vocation, a tenor by accident," insists Jose Cura, who begins a run this week as the hero of the Washington Opera's production of Camille Saint-Saens's "Samson et Dalila" opposite mezzo-soprano Denyce Graves.

Those who hear Cura during his run as Samson are unlikely to think there's been any accident. His voice is large, masculine and commanding, with an unforced, natural delivery. His top notes ring clear and true, like a trumpet. He is a throwback to the big tenors from the '50s and '60s, such as Franco Corelli or Mario del Monaco. (By coincidence, in the very small world of opera, del Monaco's son Giancarlo is directing this production of "Samson.") But unlike the sound of those bright-voiced Italians, Cura's wells up from a deeper registry, almost like a baritone.

Word that Cura is the great tenor hope has been circulating among music lovers for several years. Next year he'll make his auspicious debut at the Metropolitan Opera in New York: on opening night, in "Cavalleria Rusticana."

The usually understated British magazine Opera went nuts over his debut recording of Puccini arias, released on Erato a year ago, proclaiming the disc the "lavish confirmation that Cura is the answer to our prayers, a true spinto tenor leaning towards robusto that we have needed for so long." In other words, he's both lyrical and dramatic, and he's got power and stamina behind the voice. John Steane, perhaps the most respected vocal expert writing in English today, hears in Cura "a thrilling voice, an individual timbre." In the ever-popular romantic tenor repertoire, Cura, 35, is at the top of his generation.

On Friday morning last week, Cura greeted a visitor to his Watergate hotel suite dressed in a black track suit and thick white socks, sipping tea on the sofa. He was getting over a lingering cold, but in good spirits though still heavily congested. Yet by the next day's dress rehearsal he was too sick to sing. Graves also had complained of minor troubles (dry vocal cords) and opted not to overtax herself for this rehearsal. So both title characters "walked" through their parts, in costume, while their understudies (Ian DeNolfo and Catherine Keen) stood at stage right and did all the singing.

Cura's vocation as a musician is unusually broad. Born in Rosario, Sante Fe, Argentina, he was conducting a choir, playing classical guitar and composing music by the time he was 15. But a life of easy privilege -- his father owned a metals conglomerate -- was soon blocked.

"I've known every stage of social possibilities in my life, because I was born in a rich family," he says. "But when the military regime went into power we were one of the first to go into bankruptcy. Imagine for me, as a teenager, one day I was proud of being rich and the next day I was nothing, we had nothing. But my mother was born in poverty and she knew misery, she pulled us up. After that, education became very important, and we started again."

At 22, the year he married, he made his opera-conducting debut with "Carmen," and soon after had written several ambitious, large works: a children's opera, a Requiem, a Magnificat. Despite his success as a singer, he still considers himself a composer. He calls his music "post-romantic" in style and is working, when he finds the time, on an oratorio about Christ's last days. He started singing to make himself a better composer of vocal music and earn some extra money. Being a chorister in the Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires, South America's largest and most prestigious opera house, proved invaluable, if less than lucrative. "I had several jobs every day: I'd work in a gym as a body-building instructor in the morning, in the afternoon at a grocer's, in the evening in the chorus at the opera. It was a hell of a life."

That life lasted five years. All the while he was making amazing progress with his singing, taming what was then a large but raw and unfocused voice. When the decision was made to try opera, he moved to Italy so he could learn Italian opera from the natives. One breakcame in 1994, when he won Plácido Domingo's International Operalia vocal contest.

Domingo has clout in every place that Cura's career, indeed any young singer's, might develop. He's the leading dramatic tenor in the world today, plus he's the Washington Opera's artistic director (and he is assuming the same title with the Los Angeles Opera). He also conducted the London Philharmonia for Cura's debut recital disc and will conduct this production of "Samson."

Given Domingo's unique power and the cynicism of the opera world, gossip and speculation seemed inevitable. "One month after I won the contest in '94 I sang in Chicago and the general talk was that I was imposed by Plácido to sing Fedora -- when in fact I had signed the contract with an agent to sing there before I entered the contest. I can understand what people used to think. But it's stupid now to think I'm still a protege of Placido's. I have earned my place, my career, where it now stands.

"My relationship with Plácido is much less complicated than people think," Cura says. "Ten singers won the year I won. People used to say, Cura is where he is because he won the Operalia contest,' but I say, Where are all the other winners? I don't see them.' Some are doing wonderful careers, but no one is in my situation. My relationship with Plácido is just based on that -- I've won his contest, so he uses me and helps me wherever he can. Our relationship and friendship is based in that, and that is the point of the contest. But he has never given me vocal advice, he's never said a word to me about technique, and I respect him for that. Every singer has his own way of singing or finding a phrase, and too much advice from too many singers isn't a good thing."

Domingo, for his part, responds: "My protégé? No. He deserves to be where he is by his own merits. He already has an incredibly varied repertoire. Another thing that sets him apart is that he is an excellent musician and a fine actor. And the voice itself is a true lirico-spinto.

"There is no doubt that his is the voice to be considered for the future."

If Domingo has named Cura his heir, perhaps it is because both are interested in more than singing. Cura's second solo recording, something of a crossover disc of Argentine songs, includes two of his own pieces. And he'll increasingly perform recitals with orchestra in which he conducts overtures and intermezzi in addition to singing arias. "I'm still just a composer and conductor who happens to sing," he maintains. He continues to keep his career options open with symphonic conducting and work with a chamber ensemble, playing piano and percussion.

But before he can focus on those other activities he has a run of "Samson" performances in Washington, and Cura is a thoughtful actor onstage. "Samson is about sex, and about man's relationship with something eternal. Is there someone up there, whatever you choose to call it? Are we all alone? In the scene in the third act, for example, where Samson pushes the treadmill -- he's not supposed to sing like a bird, he's been castrated and beaten, he's weak. It's an unreal moment, so I try to give the effect of a broken situation, by making a sob here or a cracked note there, in a theatrical way.

"It's one of the most dramatic moments in opera: It's Samson's soul talking with God. It shouldn't be loud but intense. My job is to get that across to the audience and I always find it most challenging to portray small parts of the human condition." 


The José Cura Interview

Interview conducted in 1998 by Jane Austin for the ConneXion

[Excerpts]

 At last the long awaited interview with José Cura took place in Torino in October during Samson et Dalila. I have to admit that I was a little nervous when I arrived at his hotel but of course I needn't have been. As soon as José arrived in the lobby to greet me I began to relax and by the time we got to the first question I was fine.

JA.  When you are first offered a role in an opera that you don't know (assuming the tessitura is right for you) what is the first thing you consider, the music or the dramatic possibilities?

José Cura:  It's difficult to say because for me as an actor it is very important to have a plot that I can develop but then if the plot is good and the music not that good it is also not fun for the singer in me. As you know there are not many operas where the plot and the music are good so you have maybe Otello or Don Carlo and you have almost every Puccini. Puccini was very careful about this. That's why I love Puccini.

JA.  Yes, I had read somewhere that you love Puccini and have wondered why him in particular.

José Cura: You can create believable characters with wonderful music. That's why I'm not very happy with every Verdi. I love Otello, I love Don Carlo.  Of course I like Falstaff but I can't sing it and even if I like the music of Forza del Destino the plot is pathetic and Trovatore is the same. So it is very difficult to say but if I can choose or if I have to choose I prefer to have a good plot with more or less good music and not wonderful music but with a ridiculous plot.

JA. So you really have to take each one separately.

José Cura:  Yes, because with some singing and really believing in what you are doing you can turn not wonderful music into something nice. But a ridiculous plot there is nothing you can do.

JA.  Staying on the same sort of line, how do you go about forming a characterization? Let’s take Canio for instance.  Do you think yourself middle-aged?

José Cura: Yes and no. I mean of course because of my physical characteristics there is no way for me to portray a Canio who is old and physically frustrated and who feels neglected because he is not a nice chap; it would not be believable. So I have to portray Canio in a different way I have to make him a handsome middle-aged man who is so violent, so cruel with everybody that no one will love him, maybe preferring someone not so good looking but sweet. So my Canio is different. It's not the usual physically frustrated old man, maybe not quite impotent or whatever. No, it is a Canio who is perhaps sexually good enough but also cruel enough and violent enough.

JA. I must admit that I can testify to that having seen you do it in Zurich. You were certainly very physically present.

José Cura:  Like saying my Canio is a sadist. But of course it is not what Nedda likes. She prefers the sweet and childish love of Silvio.

The thing is trying to portray the character in your own skin because it is better as far as you can do it not to try to adapt your body to the character alone because it is not cinema. In cinema they might use a lot of make-up tricks and because of the way of using the camera you can create a more believable illusion.

JA.  It gives you the option if you want to continue singing the part.

José Cura:  That's the whole problem of opera when you are a singer of fifty years old having to perform as a child of eighteen. When you are fifty or sixty, you can be Butterfly who was fourteen so that is the usual impossible to solve problem of opera.  Another thing, no cinema director would choose an old woman to do the character of a fragile teenager.

JA.  But people have got so used to it in opera, haven't they? They've tended to get used to the fact that anyone can do anything. Although I have found more and more that after such performances I hear the audience commenting about it.

José Cura:  Yes they do, but when you put the right thing with the right people everything changes. It's not fair to say because I will be old, too. In twenty years I will be willing to do the young lover and I will be fifty so it will arrive my turn too. In twenty years I tell you....

JA.  How do you learn a new role? Do you teach yourself? I know you've got a studio at home.

José Cura:  Yes. I prepare my characters alone always, and then when I'm ready if I happen to find someone in front of me who I trust maybe show him my version and then we discuss it. Or if I work with interesting people in rehearsals I adapt and expand my version. But in the beginning I prefer to learn my characters alone. Because I like to be the owner of not only my successes but also of my failures.

JA.  It's mine and I'll stand up if it wasn't good.

José Cura:  Yes.

JA.  Do you have a singing coach and if so how did you go about finding them?

José Cura:  Yes and no. Again as with all my life I'm sort of 80% self-taught. So I don't have a fixed vocal coach. Yes, I have people who I trust and whose advice I respect and analyze. Vittorio Terranova was for a year, when I lived in Italy, my vocal coach. Every chance he can he comes to my performances, listens to me and gives me his advice if he has something to say. So yes and no. What I mean with this is that I don't have a day each week when I meet with a coach.

JA.  It's just as and when you feel the need.

José Cura:  Because if you don't get rid of this necessity you cannot fly for an international opera career. Because it's almost impossible to bring your teacher in your pocket with you or inside your luggage. So if you cannot manage alone you feel all the time nervous and you feel all the time alone, 'Oh, is time to sing the difficult part and I have nobody to help me', so you're nervous.

JA.  Makes sense.

José Cura:  You have to teach yourself the way you teach yourself to leave home and be without papa and mama and manage to pay your own bills.

JA:  Do established singers offer you advice and encouragement?  Is this something special that happens in the opera world?

José Cura:  It depends on the relationship you have with them, because it is something very interesting, when an established singer, a real big one, arrives to that point where they also become wise and it’s like in life if you look around the people that love to give advice are the people that have nothing to advise.  When you are wise enough to be ready to advise people you don’t give your advice unless somebody comes and asks you for that advice.

JA:  I suppose you feel that if they need it they will come and if you go in and offer it, they’ll think I’m butting in.

José Cura:  The advice of a big singer is not spoken just shown with example of how to.  I remember in 1994 when I did Fedora with Mirella Freni and I met her for the first time she never for a second gave me advice on how to do things.  But watching her singing and watching her breathing…How she managed at almost sixty to sing with that wonderful technique was unspoken advice. 

JA:  Who’s your favorite operatic character?

José Cura:  That’s an easy and complicated one.  Of course Samson is one of my favorites.  Even if I haven’t performed a lot of Otello I can say Otello is very good.

JA:  Yes, it’s certainly quite a complex character.

José Cura:  I love all these characters that I can really develop.  For somebody who loves to act on stage there is nothing more interesting that a multi-dimensional character.  And with Samson you are a revolutionary in the first act and in the last act you are a blind man.  To perform a blind man or someone with a handicap, a deformed leg, mute, Down syndrome or whatever, it is one of the most interesting challenges for an actor.  It is the difficult stuff but it is wonderful.

JA:  I can imagine having seen a lot of your performances you do like to get right into the character.

José Cura: In Samson, I perform the whole of the third act with my eyes closed.  I never open my eyes, not even to watch the conductor.  I close my eyes and they paint my eye lids black to give from a distance a feeliing that my eyes are burnt.  So first I am not allowed to open my eyes or the make-up will be spoilt and second I don’t open my eyes because I want to feel the sensation of being blind.

JA:  It must be very difficult.  You think you can imagine it but you can’t.

José Cura:  I close my eyes so when I fell on stage I really fell and when they push me they really push me.  I don’t know where I’m going so I said everybody, listen. I’m in your hands. Careful because if you push me into the pit I go into the pit…so everybody knows that I won’t open my eyes.

When the boy guided me on stage at the first rehearsal he was waiting for me to push him so I said listen, please.  I’m blind so you just guide me because I don’t know where to go.

JA:  That’s interesting.  I didn’t realize you did it with your eyes closed.

José Cura:  Even when I have my back to the audience I don’t open my eyes.  So I never know where I am.  Of course now after rehearsal and after having fallen off the stage I know, as blind people know, where I am.

JA:  If they are on familiar ground they know where they are.  It’s three paced to the door, or there’s a chair in the way.

José Cura:  I have an anecdote about this.  In 1996 when I performed Samson for the first time in London with Jacques Delacote he was kind of crazy in the rehearsals because I didn’t watch the conductor a lot because it distracted me from the acting.  I see the conductor but I never watch him.  He said to me, listen, I need your eyes.  I need to feel that you are watching me all the time.  And I said be sure that every movement you do I know and I will understand it but I will never fix you in my eyes and even if I do so in the 1st and 2nd acts how am I going to do it in the last act when Samson is blind?  I won’t see you.  I won’t open my eyes so we have to follow each other with the soul because I’ll never see you for the whole act.

JA:  I suppose it helps when you have a conductor you work with regularly and build an empathy with them.

José Cura:  No, it’s nothing to do with that.  When you have a handicap, unfortunately nothing is the way it used to be when you didn’t have a handicap.  So even when you are performing a handicap on stage, you are supposed not to be exactly the way you were without your handicap.  Because if not you lose the credibility of the thing. 

JA:  A question on concerts and operas.  Is the physical effort for a concert greater than that of an opera?  I mean in the effort to do so much singing of the big arias one after the other.

José Cura:  The physical effort of a concert is not on your body.  It’s in the tension that you have in your interpretation of trying to create a character without being the character.

JA:  Because you have to do it instantly without any build up?

José Cura:  Yes.  You don’t have the makeup; you don’t have costume, or other performers working with you so you have to make people believe that you are a character when you are dressed in a black suit.  That’s why my concerts are what they are.

But of course there is nothing in an ordinary concert like the real physical effort [of an opera] in terms of the body, just the tension of being exposed without the cover of makeup and the scenery and whatever.  Yesterday I had tracheitis but I managed to sing.  I was carried along by the stage, the singers, and the movement and if I felt that I was going to crack a note I could improvise some movement to cover that kind of thing.  But when you are singing a concert there is nothing you can do.  You sing or you go home.

JA:  You’re naked, aren’t you?

José Cura:  In that sense, it is much more stressful.

JA:  So it’s tiring from the tension and stress rather than physically running around the stage.

José Cura:  It’s like when you’re playing football.  If you lose the ball, you can run and maybe get it again.  But if you’re playing chess and you make a wrong movement they will take your piece. 

JA:  If a critic offers constructive criticism as opposed to criticism for the sake of it, do you take it on board and learn from it?

José Cura:   When I was in London for the first time in Stiffelio, Rodney Milnes from The Times wrote a lot of wonderful things about me but in the middle of that he wrote that there is a problem with two notes in the lower register and he was right because I was having trouble with the notes.  At the time I was working hard on the problem.  So it made me happy in a way to know that a critic was fair enough to understand that the character was wonderful but of course there was a problem and it made me frustrated to understand that my problem was evident that people could see it and understand it.  When I returned to do Samson a year after, he said I am happy to acknowledge that where a year ago I said there was a problem there is no longer a problem.  So that’s an intelligent critic.

JA:  Really that’s what they’re there for, isn’t it?  Not for their own personal taste.

José Cura: The problem with the critics, people have the wrong idea that the critic can damage the artist.  An established artist will be very difficult to damage by a critic.  He damages the audience.  Because the critic is a nexus between the artist and the public, and if the critic doesn’t make a good nexus he will only damage the public. 

I was very happy to know when they called me to tell me that Otello was going to be televised.  They called me with a very funny voice trying to convince me of the big danger of doing my first Otello.  I was the first tenor in the history of opera that had his debut in Otello not only at my age, not only with only four rehearsals but also broadcast live on television. Like saying here I am, take it or leave it. But I was very happy because I knew that a lot of people were going to attack me and I said, look, I’m happy with the live broadcast because nobody will be able--if I do a good job--to say the contrary.  Because I have the evidence.

JA:  You stand by it or fall by it.

José Cura:  Exactly.  So that’s it.

JA:  Do you have a set routine on performance days?

José Cura:  No.  I just try to conserve as much energy as I can for the night.  I try to sleep as much as I can during the day. I just have the same routine as when I was a sportsman.  Just rest as much as I can and have healthy eating and maybe an hour or two before the performance eat a plate of carbohydrates such as pasta but clean without heavy sauces or something like that, because I need my digestion to work quickly and easily without any problems.

JA:  Just be sensible.

José Cura:  Yes.  Of course, a couple of times it’s happened that the plane has only arrived half an hour before the performance because it was that or not sing.  Of course I prefer not, because it’s very stressful.  But a normal day for me starts the night before when I have dinner, go to bed, and have a nice night and sleep, have breakfast, go for a walk or whatever and then go to the theater.

JA:  Do you have a traveling companion?

José Cura:  I like to have people with me because I don’t like to be alone.  I am, as you know, an expansive character so I find it very hard to be alone.  But of course because also I am very easy to befriend everywhere I go I make friends almost instantly.  Normally I try to go with my people and friends.  And now more because the kids are growing my wife is also coming with me more than in the past.  So that is fine with me. 

JA:  Do you have a secret ambition?

José Cura:  Yes, I have an ambition but it is not a secret and it a very difficult one.  Being able to put together this big parcel of being a high profile public persona and also wanting to be a family man.

JA:  A private person.

José Cura:  Yes.  If I can put all this together and if people can help with this, friends and whoever is around, it would be very welcome.

JA:  Are you superstitious?

José Cura:  No.  I have not a single superstition.  It’s something you try to learn if you want a relaxed career.  People always ask how I manage to be so relaxed on stage and to enjoy myself.  It is because I teach myself every day, every second of my career, to be like that.  So when you go to my dressing room there is nothing in there, maybe if someone is so kind there is a bottle of water, nothing more, just my costume.

JA:  I suppose you could become reliant upon something like a bent nail or whatever it is and then you lose it and start to panic.

José Cura:  I oblige myself not to have any attachments to anything.  If I have a small cold and arrive at my dressing room and suddenly realize that I have forgotten my aspirins, instead of sending someone to my hotel to get them my reaction is I have to learnt to manage without them.  Of course you try to avoid these things but if they happen they happen and the way is not to be paranoid it’s to try to teach yourself not to be paranoid.

The only superstition I have, if you want to call it a superstition, is that it is not me who sings, it is not me who is on stage, I am just an instrument of somebody called God.  Before entering the stage I say “here I am.  Sing through me.” Not sing with me but through me. You’re just the instrument and if something happens it is because He wants it to happen. 

JA:  That’s a lovely disposition to have.  It must free you.

José Cura:  Yes, it’s made me feel so at ease.

JA:  Recording in a studio is very different from a live performance.  You come across as a spontaneous singer.  Did you find it difficult adjusting?

José Cura:  No, because I can create the atmosphere.  When I was performing this recording with the Philharmonia and Plácido and the technicians didn’t quite know what was going to happen before the first session and when I stood there in front of everybody looking and the musicians and walking between them and singing during the rehearsal they said what the hell is going on.  And they were motivated.  I could feel that after the first half an hour they started to play in a different way.  They were playing wonderful notes and all of a sudden they started to do theater.

JA:  There was life in it.

José Cura:  It was because we were playing together.  We were enjoying together.  I remember some of the songs I stopped in the middle of the recording.  I said we are making wonderful music but we are not giving meaning to this.  We have to play with our souls.  Play for me and I’ll sing for you and let us make love altogether.  It was good.

JA:  You’re recording songs from your native Argentina.  Is this something close to your heart that you’re particularly looking forward to?

José Cura:  I’m looking forward to it because it’s music I really like.  And I’m looking forward because I will conduct and do the arrangement.  And I am looking forward most al all because it will be the first time the music of my country, the songs of my country, will be recorded in an absolutely high profile record company house, Warner Classics.

JA:  Rather than some small record company.

José Cura:  Because of the structure of Warner Classics, it will be able to reach every corner of the world showing what our music is, which is very important.

JA:  Will it be traditional or a mix of traditional and contemporary?

José Cura:  No, no.  Everything is really songs like if you do a German album you do Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, this kind of quite neat romantic melodies.


Interview with José Cura

Weekly Edition

Neal Conan and Robert Siegel

27 November 1998

Introduction by Neal Conan, Host:  Here in Washington this weekend, the great tenor Placido Domingo is stepping in to pinch-hit for José Cura.  Domingo has been conducting the 35 year old Argentinian in a Washington Opera production of Samson et Dalila, but Cura had a previous commitment that conflicted with the last performance. The young singer is emerging as a star in his own right.  José Cura visited NPR’s studios and spoke with Robert Siegel.

Robert Siegel, Host, All Things Considered:  The role of Samson seems ideal for Cura, who stands 6’2”and used to work as a body-building instructor. It’s also a role that he says demands a different kind of voice for each act, as Samson rouses the enslaved Hebrews to revolt, and is seduced by Dalila and then blinded, chained and forced to turn a millstone.

José Cura, Musician:  You need a heroic dark sound in the first act; you need a kind of sensual beginning to-be-suffered sound in the second act; and you need a broken voice in the third act.  You’re supposed to be tortured, castrated, and then all the things—you know, I’m blind—and blind, not just because you’re blind, but blinded with a point of a sword, which is much more uncomfortable.  You are supposed to sing and to act with your voice, sufferance of the character.

Cura says he is vocally at about 60 percent, fighting a cold.  But he did manage to survive an opening case of premature temple collapse.  More on that later.

José Cura likes to point out that he was not discovered in a pizza parlor idly singing.  He was a teenage guitarist who studied composition before he became a singer. He still arranges and composes.  He has a new recording of Argentinian songs, including his own setting of two Pablo Neruda poems. And he says that his own music has changed as he’s become more and more a man of the theater.

Cura:  I think that my compositions now turn to be more theatrical, more directly dramatic, more giving a sense—a theatrical sense of not only to some of the music itself. Of course, those two songs in the record are sort of the exception, because when you have to put music on Neruda you have to be very, very, very careful.  Because it’s like walking between crystals.  I mean, those words, those poems are so rich, so perfect, that every note you put risks to distract the attention of the listener.

You know, there’s an anecdote behind those songs. I was singing in 1995 in Palermo Francesca da Rimini, which is an extremely romantic opera.  It’s a sort of Romeo and Juliet opera. And after the third or fourth performance I went into my dressing room to start my makeup and I found a book on the table. And when I opened the book, it was dedicated and words were more or less like “to you who sings to love, words of love.” It was anonymous. I never, never knew who gave me that book. But I just opened the book there, and the first poem I saw was that poem. And I was so impressed with it that I just wrote the music right there.

Siegel:  When you talk of your being a man of the theater, are there actors—not from opera, but from stage or screen actors—who are important models to you and who are ideals to you?

Cura:  I don’t want to name one actor. But let’s say that this way of acting more than an actor.  Opera singers are famous for the fact of being, all the time doing on stage a lot of things that have no reason. Moving hands, open arms and kinds of things. And, of course, it’s very difficult when you have to deal with long melodies. Because one thing is to say “I love you” and you say it in one word and you just touch the person you love or maybe not. And one other thing is to take 10 minutes to say “I love you.”

[Laughter.]

Siegel:  You have to do something with your hands during that time.

Cura:  Exactly. After the second minute you don’t know what to do.  (laughter)  So that’s a big challenge, of course, and to find a compromise between those things. But, in essence, the essence is just don’t do on stage whatever is superfluous, you know; the gesture that comes from nothing. I prefer to be still. I prefer to keep this kind of internal energy.

Siegel:  Take me back now to opening night of Samson et Dalila in the Washington Opera here in the Kennedy Center.  It’s the end of the third act. You, Samson, are being shown off to ridicule to the mob--that is the chorus in the temple in Gaza. And you’re summoning the help of God to give you strength as they lead you to the pillars. And as I saw it—just a little bit too soon—the temple came down on its own will.

Cura:  Yes.

[Laughter]

Siegel:  What was going on?

Cura:  It was the hand of God.

[Laughter]

Siegel:  Who missed His cue, evidently.

Cura:  No, you know, the true story is that, of course, as in every life of performers, things happen. And I was very lucky that the soloist dancer, Mr. Hill, was in front of me.  And I would never, never forget him in my life, when he said to me—because I have my eyes closed—and I had my back to this…

Siegel:  You’re blind.  You’re playing the blind man.

Cura:  Of course, I’m playing the blind, and to do that I have my eyes closed all the time.  Because I have the black makeup on my eyes. So, of course, I don’t know what is happening. And he is in front of me dancing and ripping my clothes. And he said to me in a sudden, “listen, man, you move or you’re a dead man.” [Laughter]  So I turn around and the whole temple was coming down on my head. And I said, “OK, here we go. The insurance—I go to the Bahamas and I never work in my life again.” [Laughter ] And so I said, “OK, we have to save the show, of course.” And I said let us make a first pull like if God has to make a –pull the whole temple down.  Maybe He did it in two times, you know.  I mean, why should He make it in one?  So, course, I make a first pull and then half of it came down. And then I gathered the chains again, and I gave a real one and the opera ended it. So I think in the 2,000 people that were there, at least one thought it was planned like that.  [Laughter]  And it was fun. But in any case, in any case, I will never forget that phrase:  “Man, you move or you’re a dead man”

[Laughter]


A Samson with a Black Belt

Sarah Bryan Miller

New York Times

22 November 1998

 José Cura, an Argentine tenor who used to be a martial-arts trainer and rugby player, has a darkly handsome macho look and a dark, baritonal macho sound to match.

The travel and the long hours were starting to catch up with him; José Cura sounded low, gravelly and untenorial on a recent morning.  “Excuse me,” he growled, “as I use my double-bass voice.”

But a tenor he is, and good news for opera fans. An Argentine who once held a black belt in kung fu, he boasts a baritonal timbre, secure technique and outstanding musicianship, combined with the vocal strength to do the big riles of the French and Italian repertories, and a darkly handsome macho look to go with his dark, macho sound.

Now appearing at the Washington Opera as Samson in Saint-Saens’ s kitchy classic  Samson et Dalila, Mr. Cura has an impressive Metropolitan Opera debut lined up, as Turiddu in Cavalleria rusticana (alongside Placido Domingo’s Canio in Pagliacci) on opening night next year.  With his CD of Puccini arias (conducted by Mr. Domingo) selling steadily, Erato has released two new recordings in which he is prominently featured: Samson et Dalila, with Olga Borodina as the Philistine seductress and Colin Davis conducting,  and Anhelo, a collection of Argentine songs, which includes two tunes composed by Mr. Cura.  He also conducts the songs and is credited with orchestration and cover design.

Booked through 2004, Mr. Cura might seem to American audiences to have sprung full blown from Mr. Domingo’s international Operalia competition, which he won in 1994.  Mr. Cura disagrees.

“I’ve been working, studying, doing this kind of thing since I was 12, and I’m 35 today,” he says.  “I’m pretty solid in this career.  I’m not the kind of singer who comes from nowhere and cracks under the pressure.”

Mr. Cura began his musical studies as a classical guitarist, then moved to conducting and composition.  While studying choral conducting in his mid-20s, he sang in choruses and, he says, learned vocal discipline.  The head of the conservatory in his hometown, Rosario, Argentina, encouraged him to study voice, and he soon left for Europe to pursue a career.

A series of small breaks, gradually leading to international attention, brought Mr. Cura his current success.  In 1995 he opened a Verdi festival at Covent Garden, in place of José Carreras, and caught the notice of recording executives.

Intelligent and articulate, Mr. Cura seems aware of his limitations and wary of hype.  “It is lucky that it was not one big explosion,” he said. “If you do a big noise once, you are expected to do that all the time, and if you don’t do it the next time, they say you are going down.”

He bristled when asked about the inevitable comparisons with Mr. Domingo, another baritonal tenor who sings the big roles and conducts on the side.  “He has taken an interest in my career, and that is flattering and nice,” Mr. Cura said.  “When one of the winners of his contest is making a big international career, it is natural for him to be proud and helpful. When he said that he believed in Cura, that Cura was a great artist, that was helpful to my reputation.  The danger is that some people said that Cura was singing only because Domingo was pushing him.”

Mr. Cura’s talents should be judged on their own merits, Mr Domingo insists.  “Without any doubt, José is one of the most exciting tenors of the new generations for his vocal and artistic qualities and his musicality,” Mr. Domingo said.  “He is a ‘must’ tenor for any major opera company.”

But is Mr. Cura ready for heavy roles?  He believes he is.

“Every tenor, when young, dreams about tackling the big roles, the big heroes,” he said.  “Of course that ruins careers when you sing only for wanting to do it and not because you are ready. So every time one tries it, they say, ‘Oh, another one who’s going to burn his wings.’  Almost 30 years ago, when Placido did Otello, they said he was going to ruin his career.  They are so demanding, these roles, that even if you have the voice for the roles, if you don’t have the technique, you will burn the voice.  It is a combination of both things, the voice and the intelligence.”

He is dubious, however, about moving into German repertory. ”I  put a great amount of effort in acting on stage, to be as believable as I can, and for that you need to master the language, the nuances of the language,” he said. “If you can’t do that, you will never be believable on stage.  If I could become as fluent in German as I am in English, then maybe I would tackle a German role.”

Meanwhile, he should have plenty of work in the French and Italian repertory. His new recording as Samson is ruggedly sung.  Inspiring as he leads the Israelites into battle, convincingly abject in defeat, Mr. Cura gives a strong performance.  Anhelo (Intense Desire) shows a different side of his vocal personality, softer, introspective and less prone to sustained high notes.

Mr. Cura, who lives outside Paris with his wife and three children, is a sports fan and was once a semiprofessional athlete.  As a former martial-arts trainer and rugby player, he appreciates the sacrifices athletes have to make. “I know how much you have to suffer to get those results,” he said.

Although he has given up the guitar for lack of time, he continues to conduct.   “That was really my origin as a musician, something I don’t like to lose,” he said.  “In the past it was not easy to get an orchestra.  Now it is much easier.”

Like other tenors of his generation, Mr. Cura must deal with the “fourth tenor” pressure.  He dismisses the label, but it doesn’t bother him. “If you analyze it, you realize it’s a way for the press to tell people what kind of level you are at,” he said.  “It’s just media shorthand.”

Does he have particular goals in mind?  “There are no real goals in a career,” he replied. “You have to analyze and study and take what is right for you.  When you have two proposals every day and each can take you in a different direction, you make a choice, and that leads to other decisions.  You can make a career, or burn out in a couple of years.  It all depends on whether you’re intelligent or not.”


Note:  This is a machine-based translation.  We offer it only a a general guide but it should not be considered definitive.

 

 [Excerpt]

Washington DC - The biblical opera Samson and Dalila by Camille Saint-Saëns  took the stage at the Kennedy Center, with the Argentine tenor José Cura in the leading role and Denyce Graves as Dalila. The appearance of Cura (35) was preceded by a favorable flood of press and a fever of praise for this young man’s talent, whom almost everyone crowns as “the fourth tenor” and others call “the new Caruso.”  In addition to his voice, his performance (acting) received accolades. 

We talked with Cura in his suite at the famous Watergate hotel and his first words were to thank Ambito Financiero for having been the first medium, after his December 1994 concert in Buenos Aires, to publicize his qualities and his (then incipient) trajectory to the Argentine reader. Born in Rosario, José Cura started a heterodox musical education at the age of twelve, in which the autodidactic prevails over the "academic". Cura says that he was always impatient with the conventional educational processes, including a brief formative stage at the National School of Music of the University of Rosario ("every time I had learned the 'necessary’...I flew to another nest'”). Thus he began in classical guitar, learned violin, studied composition ("by my account," he emphasizes), and orchestral conducting (“...without ever rehearsing with an orchestra," he adds). In parallel, he develops his vocal talent.  In Buenos Aires he sang in the Choir of the Higher Institute of Art of the Teatro Colón in the mid-80s while also being a coach in a gym.

In 1991 the European epic began: auditions, agent search, contests. In 1993, at the Teatro de Trieste, the efforts of those who were staging Fräulein Julie, by the contemporary composer Antonio Bibalo (based on Strindberg's book), were about to falter. Cura relates: "The plebeian, virile tenor was missing, the one who seduces, subjugates, violates and humiliates the countess.  That tenor ended up being me." It was a great success: ten performances, with full theater. He had, without doubt, the "le physique du role." 

Fräulein Julie was followed by Janacek’s Caso Makropoulos, and--already delving into Verdi's nineteenth-century repertoire- Forza of Destiny, Nabucco, and other operas in Italy.

In Covent Garden, London, he "covered" Carreras in Fedora, by Giordano (1994), and when in 1995 Carreras canceled his appearance in Verdi's Stiffelio, Cura went on to star as the character that he himself defines it as "masculine, almost as dramatic as Otello." Covent Garden was the trigger for what is now an international career. He already has sevenal recordings to his credit, including Samson and Dalila, directed by Sir Colin Davis (with Olga Borodina in Dalila), and his own second CD (Anhelo) that includes songs by Guastavino, Ginastera, and his own compositions, the latter based on Neruda's texts.

Cura, his wife, and three children reside on the outskirts of Paris. Despite his busy agenda, Argentina is not left behind. Said Cura: "No one is a prophet in his land.  It is not for me to understand the bitterness that required me to consecrated myself abroad before presenting myself on the stage of Colón." As it is now known, Cura, together with Chilean soprano Verónica Villarroel, will open the Colón opera season with Verdi’s Otello on 18 April 1999. Then, in Rosario, he will promote the revival of a symphony orchestra ... "at the level of what the city deserves. In 1999, he will again direct at the Royal Festival Hall in London a program of overtures, intermezzi and opera arias”; on September 27, he will open the 1999-2000 season of the Metropolitan Opera in New York singing (Turiddu in) Cavalleria Rusticana.

He would like to direct symphonic repertoire (he is interested, in particular, in the works of Rachmaninoff) and in this regard there are already perspectives for 2003 "onwards." In the field of composition, he has the oratorio "Ecce homo in gestation, and he is "eager" to compose a work for guitar and orchestra.


.


Reviews

Enter the Fifth Tenor

 

Washington City Paper

Joe Banno

Nov 20, 1998

Take a stroll through the opera section of Tower Records some time, and you'll find the Three Tenors hard to avoid. It's not just the countless recitals and opera sets starring Pavarotti, Domingo, and Carreras or the live relays of their mega-concerts from Stadium X or Y filling the bins. More recently, indie labels have been cobbling together collections of tenor recordings from earlier in the century with titles like Three Legendary Tenors or Three Edison Tenors or simply Three Tenors, minus the definite article—anything so long as that essential three-ness is there. The marketing sense is unassailable: It exploits all the current media hype to promote repackaged historical material.

Only thing is, our own Three Tenors are starting to qualify as historical material themselves. With a combined age approaching 200, José, Luciano, and, yes, even that Energizer Bunny, Plácido, can't have that many high C's left. So the question is raised, ad nauseam: "Who's going to be the Fourth Tenor?" Names like Hadley, Leech, Mora, La Scola, Merritt, Blake, Gimenez, Vargas, Bartolini, Canoncini, and Heppner have been touted for the Zeppo slot. But that delicate blend of talent and charisma, of looks and musicianship, of Barnum and Bailey, has eluded them all, however impressive their singing may be (and in Heppner's case, impressive only begins to cover it). Roberto Alagna alone seems to have conjured listener and media affection in that sold-out-house kind of way, and many have suggested the world has found its Fourth Tenor.

Well, guess what: Number Five just showed up. Argentine tenor José Cura—he of the beautiful voice, matinee-idol looks, solid acting instincts, and rumored ego—has stopped off at Washington Opera for his East Coast debut, on his way to opening night at the Met next year. He's here to sing Samson in Saint-Saëns' Samson et Dalila. The role has been appropriated of late by Domingo, but responds best to the kind of hefty voice Jon Vickers used to bring to it. Cura bears some similarities to Vickers in terms of basic vocal equipment: the baritonal timbre and trumpeting high notes, the reserves of power fueling the sound, even the Vickers-like tendency to croon the softest music.

But whereas Vickers sounded very much his own man, outside any specific national tradition, Cura recalls a kind of passionate Italian voice that's pretty much disappeared from the scene. The steamrolling power of del Monaco, the open, forward tone of Di Stefano, and the sheer beauty (even at great volume) of Corelli all find parallels in Cura's singing. His only worrisome traits are a tendency to crank up the volume at the least provocation and the odd pop-style scoop he employs on certain notes. But these things are fixable. Top to bottom, this guy's the genuine article.

His costar is Denyce Graves—D.C. native, Ellington grad, world-class mezzo-of-the-moment—who shouldn't disappoint local fans. The musky perfume of her voice is still very much in evidence, and if she trades more on her stage presence than on dramatic nuance, she's nevertheless a captivating Dalila. Costumed to take full advantage of her stunning looks, she's imperious or smoldering as needed, and she goes for the gusto in her extended love scene with Cura. Let's hope the moments of flatness and edginess were symptoms of opening-night haste and nerves and not a result of a too-much-too-soon international schedule.

With an exciting baritone sounding rough-hewn from some stately oak, veteran Justino Diaz makes an imposing High Priest of Dagon. Rosendo Flores does memorable work in the brief baritone role of Abimélech. Ditto bass Jonathan Deutsch as the Old Hebrew. But the starriest singer keeps silent all evening. Making his WashOp podium debut, Plácido Domingo conducts a solid, if unexceptional, reading of the score. Domingo is younger at the conducting biz than he is at singing, so Saint-Saëns' busy instrumental writing at the opening of Act 1 and quasi-fugal choruses later on only just hang together, lacking the trim finish that could really sell them. Nothing Domingo does in the pit is less than professional, but his waves of lyricism have a tendency to develop an unwelcome chop from time to time. (Again, these impressions stem from opening night, and fine-tuning is bound to happen in subsequent performances.)

The musical demands of S et D can be met by any large opera house with access to the international casting pool. But the opera becomes a challenge in its staging demands. Saint-Saëns knew his Wagner, and when he was writing S et D, Tristan und Isolde would have been fresh in his mind. (Saint-Saëns wowed Wagner on one occasion by sitting down at the piano and playing the entire four-and-a-half-hour score of Tristan from memory.) In terms of story structure, Saint-Saëns turned a thrice-familiar Bible story into Tristan's Gallic cousin. Act 1 organizes a meet cute between the leaders of two warring nations. In Act 2, they get to know each other in the biblical sense, and loverboy is beset by enemies. Act 3, after much lamentation and gnashing of teeth, brings annihilation on everyone. Of course, the love is one-sided in S et D, and the whole Yahweh factor mucks things up further. But the shift from large-scale scenes of Israelite suffering to the intimacy of Dalila's bedroom to the bacchanalian revels of the Philistines makes for some dramatic schizophrenia.

What really complicates matters, though, are the shifts in style and form from act to act. The static Bach-cum-Mendelssohn writing of the first act gives way to Act 2 love music that's expected to move us on an intimate, human level. Most of the final act is a wild and wacky ballet. This is the portion of WashOp's production that's bound to divide opinion. Choreographer Youri Vàmos has done a Rite of Spring riff on Saint-Saëns' glitzy "Bacchanale," loading it with animal movement, simulated sex, and a you-are-there throat slitting for the sacrificial virgin. I've seen Vàmos do some terrific work—his Deutsche Oper Ballet, Dusseldorf, double-bill of Bartók's The Miraculous Mandarin and The Wooden Prince was one of the sexiest, most arresting deconstructions I've come across in years—but here his approach only partly works. Sinewy and silly by turns, the choreography offers there's too much birdlike flapping that resembles pigeons caught under eaves. Regular Vàmos lead dancer Jhane Hill does much with his buff, towering physique and mesmerizing stare to sell the concept. But matters aren't helped by Saint-Saëns' hothouse Middle Easternisms, which provide a virtual ur-text for Hollywood sword-and-sandal soundtracks.

Director Giancarlo del Monaco (son of Mario del Monaco, the Cura-like tenor mentioned earlier) does what he can with this strange hybrid of an opera. His striking opening tableau of Israelites lying prostrate on a steeply raked stage platform would have seemed that much more impressive if it hadn't looked like a color Xerox of John Dexter's similar opening to Dialogues of the Carmelites at the Met. But opting for striking geometry over senseless movement is a wise decision in the lengthy choral scenes. Elsewhere del Monaco draws impassioned responses from his singers and shows a real talent for contorting their bodies into elaborate poses of supplication. He's helped tremendously by set designer Michael Scott's sand-colored, rune-engraved walls, ramps, and stairways. But some stage crew member is undoubtedly suffering now for toppling the Philistine temple well before the finale of the opera on opening night. The two-story styrofoam statues and columns nearly took out a passel of choristers. (One poor guy spent the last few minutes of the opera staggering around in shock, adjusting his wig.) Cura survived the ordeal, and it's a good thing, too. Otherwise, we'd all be back at Square Four. CP


Washington Opera's 'Samson et Dalila' lifted by Jose Cura and Denyce Graves but conductor Domingo let them down.

Baltimore Sun

Stephen Wigler

November 12, 1998

Perhaps I should be forbidden from attending performances of Saint-Saens' "Samson et Dalila." At every production I go to, disaster strikes ahead of schedule. Moments before the blinded and buzz-cut Hebrew strongman is about to wreak Yahweh's vengeance upon the erring Philistines, the temple walls and the statue of their god, Dagon, inevitably begin to collapse.

It was scarcely a surprise, therefore, when this scenario repeated itself Saturday night in the Opera House of the Kennedy Center at the first performance of the Washington Opera's new staging of the opera. It is a pleasure to report, however, that in many respects this much-anticipated production was a success.

The chief reason for the anticipation was the presence of the much-talked-about Argentine tenor Jose Cura in the title role. It is a coup for the Washington Opera to have engaged Cura before he arrives at the Met next season. He is 35 and is already being touted as the man who will inherit the mantle of Plácido Domingo in the heroically scaled roles of the lyric tenor repertory.

Cura's Samson in London's Covent Garden was much applauded a few seasons back, and his first performances of Verdi's Otello in Turin recently were enthusiastically received. And, as if to place his seal of approval upon predictions that the next Domingo is in our midst, the great tenor himself, who is the Washington company's artistic director and who still counts Samson among his signature roles, is making his Washington Opera debut as a conductor in this production.

So how good is Cura -- or, more to the point, how does he compare with the Domingo of 20 years ago?

He certainly resembles the Spaniard superficially -- except that he is better-looking and is physically more imposing than the young Domingo was.

And his tenor instrument is superb. Cura's voice may not convey the sweetness that Domingo's did, but it is beautiful enough and perhaps even more powerful. Even in the highest reaches of the role, Cura's notes never betrayed a hint of strain.

I also prefer Cura's interpretation of Samson (he has also recorded the opera on just-released Erato 3984-24756) to that of Domingo at the same age. Cura is at least as forceful and expressive, but he gets inside the role in a way that I don't think the younger Domingo did, achieving a bottomless depth of despair in "Vois ma misere" at the beginning of Act III.

Cura's performance was well-matched by the Dalila of mezzo-soprano Denyce Graves. Because she has so stunning a figure, so beautiful a face and a voice so powerful, there was no need to attempt much in the way of vocal subtlety. But Graves is an intelligent and resourceful actress, and she portrayed Dalila with impressive breadth of feeling and tone.

This well-cast production also featured Justino Diaz, striking sparks in his interchanges with Dalila, as a fiercely fanatical High Priest, and Rosendo Flores as Abimelech and Jonathan Deutsch as the Old Hebrew.

But this production, finely sung as it is, does not rescue "Samson et Dalila" from the charges customarily directed against it -- that of being a staged oratorio on one hand and of vulgarity on the other.

Neither charge is true. "Samson" is a masterpiece. But it requires a mastery of French elegance, color and understatement that Domingo's conducting does not possess.

Domingo rarely lent the score a natural sense of flow, and he underlined its most obvious elements. He made the exquisite and exhilarating Act III bacchanal sound as cheap as the soundtrack to a 1950s Hollywood "B" movie -- an impression unfortunately reinforced by Youri Vamos' garish, embarrassingly obvious choreography


Audience Comments

"José Cura was the Samson.  In my opinion, he is the real thing--the next great tenor in the Italian and French repertoire.  The voice is truly beautiful.  His piano singing was haunting.  His fortes filled the hall.  He hit all the notes required.  He has obvious stage presence and not just because he is apparently handsome (from my seat I couldn't get a close look but he knows how to move and to act credibly.)  He was truly extraordinary in the opening scene of Act III (Samson at the millstone), pouring forth beautiful sounds and firm tones with many colors.  I look forward to hearing him in other roles." Mark

 

"I went prepared to be a little let down at finally hearing Cura live but it didn't happen.  He appears in the first act and blasts you with his heroic, spinto sound.  The Hebrews are dressed like dirt and he has on a white robe.  They hit him with a white spot and he looks for all the world like Jesus Christ.  He is SO dark a tenor that you don't think there's going to be anything much there when he gets up top but...surprise!  There's a trumpet in there.  He has squillo.  It only appears in at the very top, but it is thrilling.  His basic instrument has a very virile, masculine quality that I believe is going to be his claim to fame over the next decade. It seems to be a sound unique to him, not a lot of those juicy overtones, just straight, full bore, even tone.  Power?  It's there.  It is his acting that impresses the most.  Cura has some seriously effective eyes.  They have the gift of pathos.  His burning glances to heaven travel around the world and come back to their beginning.  He plays the most vulnerable Samson...with, hands down, the most moving Misere scene I have ever seen on stage or video.  He plays it as a completely broken man, with a broken voice, and you believe it.  This is a magnificent scene.... Lin

 

"Cura's performance was truly riveting.  The voice is big and easily carried through the hall.  It always amazes me when singers are able to perform despite the weird contortions forced on them by the director.  In the third act Cura is hunched over the millstone and the voice didn't lose any power.  His final declamation as the temple came tumbling down rang through the hall.  His acting was top notch as well.  If you get a chance to see him on the stage, do so!" Alan

 

"I do not recall hearing any spinto tenor with a ringing top such as Cura since Mario del Monaco; he showed a very vulnerable side when it come to matters of the heart over his duties to his God.  This strikingly handsome Argentinean tenor's riveting stage presence stems from his weight lifter's physique plus a certain arrogance in stride which is probably best put to use from his entry when Samson first address the Jews." Dan 

 

"Samson et Dalila is not much of an opera, and the first act, especially, I'd be happy if I never had to sit through again.  The only reason I'd ever go see this opera again is for the mezzo and the tenor.  In this case, Denyce Graves and José Cura more than filled the bill.  I am now a fan of Cura.  His voice is the real thing and I liked the way he used it.  I was especially impressed with his singing in the third act and look forward to hearing him in some more rewarding roles."  Peggy


Zurich - 1999

We don't have much information on this production.


 

Barcelona - 2001

Samson et Dalila, Barcelona, 2001:  “Cura sang Samson--an opera that he knows perfectly--with spirit, guts, and a taut and vibrant voice which gave to his character a dramatic force that corresponded to the action on the stage. Few times have we heard the sad monologue of the mill-turning sung more emotionally, dramatically, and movingly than from the mouth of José Cura. Then, in the Bacchanal, his performance was immense, without neglecting the vocal demands: he thrust himself into the crowd, rolled towards the ground in his knot of chains, and rose up to bring down the pillars of the blazing temple with a high note that sent the audience into delirium.”  Vangardia

 

Samson et Dalila, Barcelona, 2001:  “Now to the star of the show: the Argentinean tenor José Cura.  He is a stage animal. His presence has such electricity it is almost impossible to take your eyes off him. He simply fills the stage. The magnetism is captivating to the point that there are more opportunities to be trapped by the eyes and become more indifferent to the ears. After 'Arretez, o mes freres!' the vocal problems were exposed... yes, everything was there to be heard, but his presence and acting convinced that he was Samson. Vocally there was little difference between the heroic character of the first act and the tormented lover, struggling internally and finally seduced in the second, until the vanquished, anguished and vengeful hero of the last act. The singing was always raw but none of this seemed to bother the audience, who clapped wildly and offered a final standing ovation. Yes, the show was undoubtedly a great triumph for Cura. Certainly he scored a public success in his debut at the Liceu. And at last I could understand the reason for the public uproar.”  Cronicas

 

Samson et Dalila, Barcelona, 2001: “So I watched two shows – one with José Carreras and one with José Cura - very different from each other.  This is a great opportunity, especially since I think that José Cura, because of his interesting voice, interesting interpretation and great appearance, is one of the most interesting tenors of the younger generation.   During the first act, José Cura was a bit hidden and probably did not evoke any great emotions; by the second act, José Cura rose to the top, singing in a strong voice and playing dramatically his role.  Cura was a good tenor singing with all his notes in a beautiful voice.

In the final of the third act, both tenors were great but objectively speaking, it seemed that the heroic voice of the Argentinean was better than the voice of lirico spinto Spaniard. ”   Trubadur,  20 March 2001

 

Striking Debut

\Avui

Xavier Cester

March 2001

 

[Computer-assisted translation  // Excerpt]

 

One of the great things about all performing arts and, above all, its highest and most extraordinary form, opera, is its character as a living and, to a certain extent, unpredictable phenomenon. The most exhaustive preparation, the most intense rehearsals can never foresee the magic of a night with a singer in a state of grace in front of a sympathetic audience, or the disenchantment of a performance in poor form with an audience with its claws ready. And there is no musical instrument more variable, more influenced by a thousand and one factors, than the human voice. That is why it is the most fascinating of all. When we add to this the unexpected replacement of one of the stars in a specific performance, to the (perhaps) disappointed expectations of the people sitting in their seats, we can now add the uncertainty about who will appear on stage.

In the second performance of Samson et Dalila at the Liceu (March 18), José Carreras cancelled his participation due to a flu-like illness. The theatre could have been content with performing with the Catalan tenor's cover, but the artistic direction achieved a major success by securing the participation of José Cura, one of the most sought-after artists of the present, in what was his debut in Barcelona. The Argentine divo had in his favor the fact of having already sung Elijah Moshinsky's production at Covent Garden, alongside Markella Hatziano, five years ago, at the Royal Opera House. Cura's presence galvanized both the entire production (Hatziano herself was much better, with a firmer voice and without breaks) and the audience, which responded more warmly than the one at the premiere.

The most immediate gain from Cura's performance was dramatic. His Samson had an indisputable stage charisma, he moved with great agility, successfully emphasizing the transition from almighty hero (a bit saucy, even arrogant, when he kills Abimelech) to humiliated man after passing through passionate lover stage, with a more active relationship with Dalila in the grand duet of the second act. The imposing physique of the tenor, which a different costume from that of his predecessor clearly showed, also helped and added to the greater enjoyment of voyeurs of all kinds.

On some occasions we have spoken of the Argentine tenor with certain reservations reinforced by the aggressive marketing that accompanies him. His records, especially the recital disks which he conducts himself, often fall into the merely self-indulgent exercises.  But the recent recording of Pagliacci with Riccardo Chailly (Decca) already showed a positive evolution in the singing style, until then rather rough, of Cura, an evolution fortunately confirmed by this debut at the Liceu. To begin with, the singer has the ideal instrument, the vocal testosterone indispensable for the biblical protagonist, with a dark, baritone center, and highs, if not sample then at least sufficient to knock down columns and whatever else is needed.   Moreover, the performer is now able to control his resources and modulate his phrasing: for example, the delicacy of his participation in the trio in the first act, the well-found lyricism of the duet in the second and, above all, the moving monologue in the first scene of the third.

For all this, the fervent enthusiasm of the Liceu audience in front of this dazzling debut is understandable and shareable, another sign that a good part of this audience want great voices, or, if we put it another way, divos, which today still exist. 

 


 

[Home] [Up] [Otello] [Peter Grimes] [Samson] [Stiffelio] [Tannhauser] [Tosca]

 

Last Updated:  Sunday, March 09, 2025  © Copyright: Kira