La Monnaie Parsifal | The Minister speaks English

Fittingly, a reader at Parterre.com, named "Batty Masetto" (a nickname worthy of even my children's efforts), sent me an English translation to Thomas Johannes Mayer's interview.

Here is the translation with thanks. (Mom, lemme know if ya wanna write "Batty" and personally thank him…") Also below is a YouTube clip from the award-winning Basel production of Penthesilea.


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How does it feel to be singing in your own language? 

Generally every language has specific characteristics and special aspects that make singing in that language just as specific and special. The sound of your voice and the technical challenges that go together with a language change. You could say that along with the different phonetic parameters of the various languages, taste also changes in developing a sound language that’s typical for a country. By that I mean, singing in a language always involves getting into the mentality and the way of life that its words and sounds express.

Singing in my own language of course offers me a very broad palette of nuanced options for expression. All the same, even for me there’s still the question of interpreting a historical and formal language like the kind that Wagner specifies. I too, even as a native speaker, can’t avoid a precise musical analysis of the text. For me too, it’s a constant adventure tracking Wagner’s thoughts, and a constant chafing against the adventure that Wagner himself stands for.

Explain to me the vocal requirements for singing Amfortas. What are the biggest challenges? What do you enjoy the most?

Amfortas is a very special role. In musical terms, I think it’s the most mature, most progressive, and at the same time the most moving thing Wagner ever composed. The challenge in this role is mainly to find the true sound. Amfortas’s cries of lament no longer have anything to do with the usual operatic singing. Here’s a man crying for help, and his suffering is not some private arioso about love, delight and jealousy—here an existential question is being asked. A question about life, death and dying, without any of the cynicism or denial of the world that you so often find with Verdi’s or Puccini’s baritone protagonists. The question about redemption that Amfortas asks himself in his suffering is so to speak projected onto you yourself when you sing the role, and this has an incomparable cathartic effect, inwardly and outwardly.

Being exposed to the discipline of motionlessness in this production of Parsifal was a challenge for both of us. How did you do it so successfully?

Truly, we singers are exposed throughout the production. Not just because of standing still. We’re actually dependent on a lot of factors that are not under our control. Motionlessness is creative and artistic, but an immense challenge. If you move only rudimentarily on the stage and put your entire concentration into singing and interpreting things and relationships that are not there, that’s very hard.

Suddenly everything takes on a different priority. Your sense of looking for the right interpretive tone is heightened. But the distancing from the real and actual also creates a strange closeness with the audience. And since you can’t abandon yourself to your role on the stage, ultimately there’s a greater focus on your own self-perception. Sometimes, even, an apparent self-confidence gets shaky. You get more second thoughts than you do otherwise. You feel more watched than you do otherwise if you can’t act with your fellow players in the play. You might say the performer’s psychological momentum turns against him himself. The only thing that helps then is to open up completely and radiate from the deepest part of you. Hoping you have enough fire inside you to kindle your own flame.

Lulu at Salzburg Festspiele, Amfortas at Monnaie. Wotan. What are the biggest challenges that you’ve recently encountered on the stage?

Basically every part in every production is a challenge. Even smaller roles have to be sung very well, if not even better. I can’t accept stagnation. Amfortas is in every way a totally different challenge from a Don Giovanni, Wotan, Rigoletto or Macbeth. Sometimes the emphasis is more on the acting, as with a Wozzeck or Macbeth. Sometimes it’s more on the level of singing interpretation, as with a Posa or also Amfortas. Rigoletto, Wotan and Don Giovanni are character studies. Here you just have to get into the role; otherwise it’s not credible. In principle I can’t remember singing any easy roles. For me, every character deserved to be identified with. It’s true that some roles come more easily than others, but that’s precisely also one of the greatest challenges—making truly the best of it here, too.

How does “Regie Theater” fit with your priorities? Is what you’re asked to do mostly possible, or do you change things for yourself?

I grew up with Regie Theater, and I don’t see any contradiction between it and a cogent, exciting, singer-friendly production that works. I’ve never been afraid of not being able to do something. I’m fundamentally curious. With good, smart directors you can always reach an understanding. In principle, nothing is impossible. Some things just turn out sometimes not to be practicable when you go to execute them, and then you have to find a solution together.

You have twins, 3 years old. How has your art changed with your children?

My opinion of art and my understanding of its topmost priority in a fulfilled life has definitely changed because of, and with, my children. I’ve always known how important my singing is to saving my soul. My children show me anew every day how important my work is to saving souls in general. It’s a great gift to be a singer, and an even greater one to have kids.

Readers, I think Thomas Johannes deserves some thanks for this, don't you? If you can, please take a moment and put down a comment to thank him. And while you are, let Anna know how you appreciate their contributions. Thanks.