Making beautiful music in the glamour age

THERE'S a growing trend in classical music and opera towards eye-candy singers and instrumentalists - and the results aren't always pretty.

Joan Sutherland, Angela Gheorghiu

IN the late 1950s, Franco Zeffirelli was introduced to a little-known singer called Joan Sutherland.

But as he revealed  years later, the  film and opera director's first impression of the self-conscious, big-boned soprano was far from favourable - he called her ``as big as a sergeant in the army with a terrible Australian accent''.

However, Zeffirelli was soon seduced by Sutherland's astonishing vocal gift; that once-in-a-generation voice that could stretch across  more than three octaves.
``We started to hang out and play the piano and she started to sing, and she Zeffirelli's production proved a turning point in Sutherland's career. As the Financial Times said of her Lucia: "With her performance of the title role, the young Australian soprano Joan Sutherland becomes one of the world's leading prima donnas."

La Stupenda's stellar career took her to the world's leading opera houses and into the history books; when she died in 2010, Luciano Pavarotti said she had "the greatest voice of the century".

But would Sutherland have drawn the same acclamation and fame in today's insistently image-conscious world? Would her jutting chin, tall, solid frame and initial awkwardness on stage have sidelined her from the contemporary opera scene, which - its detractors claim - is dangerously in thrall to glamour, youth and beauty?

Many in the opera world scoff at the idea that Sutherland's singular talent would be overlooked. But one opera insider who knew Sutherland well remembers the singer doubting whether she would have flourished in 21st-century opera, with its expanding coterie of buff baritones and svelte sopranos with cover-girl looks. Says this insider: "What a tragedy, because arguably the greatest soprano of the 20th century wouldn't have been a contender today."

Once a haven for the overweight and ordinary-looking with heaven-sent voices or astonishing technique, the opera and classical music industries are buying into youth and glamour as never before as they fight for survival and new, younger audiences. Indeed, some argue there is a "beauty premium" at work, whereby a violinist who looks like boy-band material or an opera babe who looks great in a lycra minidress are likelier to score high-profile gigs or recording contracts than artists who are less, well, hot.

Many opera directors baulk at the idea of casting a plump or middle-aged singer as a young romantic lead. In 2010, Zeffirelli, then 87, implied Italian soprano Daniela Dessi was too "well-built" and too old to play the ailing courtesan Violetta in a Rome production of La Traviata. Infuriated, 52-year-old Dessi quit and was replaced with a younger, thinner singer.

In 2009, reporters at the Salzburg Festival in Austria noted how a new breed of slender, glamorous singers was taking centrestage. They included Australian-born singer Danielle de Niese, Swedish soprano Miah Persson, US mezzosoprano Isabel Leonard and French coloratura soprano Patricia Petibon.

These "hotties" have male equivalents in Erwin Shrott, Juan Diego Florez, Jonas Kaufmann and Teddy Tahu Rhodes, who often sing with their shirts off or ostentatiously unbuttoned.

It seems that the adage that "It ain't over until the fat lady sings" is fast becoming an anachronism in opera. And the "park and bark" tradition, whereby a 100kg singer in a winged helmet remains soldered to the spot for an eternity, is under assault at Opera Australia and other leading opera companies. When Chicago soprano Takesha Meshe Kizart appeared as Mimi in La Boheme for OA last year, she'd had a makeover. She told one journalist she once had "bad teeth, wore glasses until last year and had a bad walk. A dentist fixed the teeth, I had laser surgery on the eyes and modelling fixed my walk." OA boss Lyndon Terracini was excited about this Boheme - a critical and box-office success - pointing out that "the cast are all young, good-looking, can act and really sing".

A few months ago, Rhodes reprised his role as Don Giovanni for OA, and his bare torso, black leather shorts and thigh-skimming boots excited as much comment as his commanding, bass baritone. Rhodes's taut abs rival those of his well-toned wife, Leonard, who is a favourite at New York's Metropolitan Opera. The sexing up of opera is further reflected in cheeky websites such as Barihunks and Shirtless Opera Singers. Both sites are pitched at opera buffs who are keen on buff male bodies. For the first time, this year Barihunks produced a pin-up calendar.

Until recently, the classical music world carefully distinguished itself from the sexualised marketing of "popera" artists and classical crossover albums, such as those by all-girl string quartet Bond (the Pussycat Dolls meet academe) and Britain's Katherine Jenkins. Jenkins is a Barbie lookalike who has sold millions of albums. In 2008, the mezzosoprano reportedly signed the most lucrative classical recording deal in history, although she had never sung an entire opera.

TRADITIONALLY, the dichotomy has been clear: the crossover market was for telegenic lightweights and the classical market for the seriously talented. Yet many of the world's most in-demand classical performers are increasingly known for their good looks as their musical prowess.

Indeed, some classical musicians could - and do - appear in fashion magazines. Charlie Siem is a British violinist who models for Vogue and has been breathlessly described by CBS as "the world's hottest violin virtuoso".

Fellow violinist David Garrett worked as a model while studying and now claims to be a crossover artist whose standard of playing is "at least equal to that expected of classical works".

Joshua Bell, one of the world's most accomplished violinists and music director of London's Academy of St Martin in the Fields, was once a top-selling poster boy for classical music. Much is made of how the good looks and dynamism of the London Philharmonic Orchestra's principal conductor, Vladimir Jurowski, is a drawcard for younger audiences.

Georgian pianist Khatia Buniatishvili toured here last year with Musica Viva. She is often praised for her ravishing looks as well as her impressive technique at the keyboard.

Later this year, Montenegro's Milos Karadaglic - one of the most gifted classical guitarists performing today - will tour Australia for the first time. Karadaglic gets the moody film star treatment in a promotional YouTube video for his new album, Latino. Resembling a 1920s matinee idol, he describes playing the tango. He says he finds it inspiring and erotic and adds with a straight face: "I would love to have a rose between my teeth and dance with a beautiful woman, absolutely."

The Australian Chamber Orchestra's Richard Tognetti has long been seen as a gifted spunk; a blond frontman for an orchestra whose youthfulness and convention-bending approach are a pivotal part of the brand. At 44, he is the oldest member of this chamber outfit, though its management furiously denies that the youthful line-up signifies anything other than coincidence. It insists the orchestra's sole criterion for its musicians is talent. Tognetti's partner - the ACO's assistant leader Satu Vanska - is another outstanding musician who could feature in any fashion week shoot.

While some top-drawer artists use their looks or sex appeal to set themselves apart in a field crowded with young virtuosi, for many, the beauty premium raises troubling questions. Are some hunks and hotties promoted beyond their ability, at the expense of the more talented but less pretty? And is the calibre of a singer's voice or of a musician's playing seen as less important than it once was?

Angela Gheorghiu is one of the world's leading sopranos and a certified glamourpuss (she demanded a hair and make-up treatment before a radio interview, according to one media report). The outspoken Romanian diva recently told Italian newspaper Corriere della Sera that many opera houses privileged looks over talent.

In the interview, translated by American blogger Opera Chic, Gheorghiou said: "The fact is that they don't recruit voices but bodies. If young Pavarotti today were to go to an audition, they'd send him away after two seconds without even listening to his voice. The theatres are full of gorgeous bodies and none pays attention to the timbre."

Last year, eminent Latvian violinist Gidon Kremer abruptly withdrew from Switzerland's Verbier Festival in protest against the music festival's - and the wider classical world's - celebrity-driven culture.

Kremer wrote in his withdrawal letter: "Let's admit - all of us have something to do with the poisonous development of our music world, in which 'stars' count more than creativity, ratings more than genuine talent, numbers more than ... sounds." He also claimed the classical music industry had a "misguided fixation with glamour and sex appeal".

OA's artistic director, Terracini, shocked many and offended some last year when he told The Sydney Morning Herald that an operatic love scene involving a fat singer would be ``obscene''. An OA spokeswoman says Terracini's words were taken out of context, but in a telephone interview with Review, the straight-talking opera boss does not disown his now-notorious comments. ``Whenever you say something that's provocative, it will also be used out of context,'' he says, sounding more resigned than angry. ``All I'm saying is what major houses are saying all over the world. It's not news.''

Terracini explains that "it's increasingly evident that people need to look right for the roles that they're singing, and that applies right across the board. So an actor needs to look right, a dancer needs to look right, a singer needs to look right. If someone needs to play a buffo role and that character needs to be overweight, then that's appropriate for that particular character. But when you have characters playing love scenes and romantic roles, they have to look right for those roles."

Are cash-poor opera companies and orchestras under pressure to feature marketable faces? Terracini replies enigmatically that "it's vital that we cast appropriately for the 21st century and not for the 19th century". He firmly denies, however, that singing talent is becoming less important. While audiences expected opera singers to be able to act and look the part "because of the difficulty of most of the roles, you've actually got to have someone who can sing it. In that respect, the most important thing is that people can sing the roles. But then if you've got choices, you will also look for the person who looks right for the role, who can act and who will deliver a complete performance."

Asked whether the classical music world is also putting a premium on good-looking performers, he says: "There will always be an initial interest in people who are photogenic or present extremely well. But in the end they have to be able to play and that's the crucial test. Anne-Sophie Mutter - she's absolutely gorgeous, but she also happens to be a phenomenal violinist and I think that again, if there is an ideal for the 21st century, that's what everyone is looking for."

What underlies the glamorising of these once tradition-bound art forms? During the past 30 years, film and theatre directors have increasingly worked in opera, approaching it as a kind of music theatre in which the drama is as important as the music. Another factor is that more opera companies are filming their productions and showing them in cinemas, in a further bid to broaden their audiences. Appearing on vast cinema screens in high definition exposes every flaw, every wrinkle and thus increases pressure on singers to look good (and in some cases, to line up for Botox injections).

Then there is the reality that it's easier to market a young violinist who models on the side than a bald, portly musician in tails.

The economics that drive the beauty culture are unforgiving: audiences for classical music and opera are contracting or ageing rapidly. OA posted a surplus last year, but two successive deficits before that. In the US the Baltimore Opera declared bankruptcy in 2008, while the Connecticut Opera shut down the following year.

According to Terracini, another reason for the glamorisation of the concert halls and opera theatres is that music academies are turning out too many singers and instrumentalists. This means that even the most talented have to work harder to stand out. "It's certainly more competitive," he says, "but I think that's because far more singers are being produced - too many singers are being produced ... it's the same with instrumentalists; too many are being produced." Terracini insists that glamour and good looks have always played a part in opera - Domingo, he says, was always "the complete package".

But Fred Plotkin, influential American opera blogger and author of the bestselling Opera 101: A Complete Guide to Learning and Loving Opera, believes things have changed and not always for the better.

He tells Review via email: "Very talented singers who are conventional looking are being passed over more than in the past if there is a pretty or handsome person who has enough vocal talent to get by. Managers who do this use the euphemism of a singer being 'a package' of enough voice and singing, pretty face, nice body and some acting skills.

"For certain roles, that might work. But I would rather see a Mimi or a Violetta who can really sing their music gorgeously, emotionally, movingly and let the costume and make-up department groom her to look more the part." Plotkin argues "opera is so hard to sing really well that music-making must be the priority ... And yet I hear some opera managers talk openly, crassly, about weight and looks in singers as if they are judging farm animals."

Agent Patrick Togher represents many of Australia's opera and classical music stars, including pianist Simon Tedeschi and tenor Rosario La Spina. Togher says the recording industry, which used to heavily promote the great live opera singers, in recent years has focused instead on mega-selling crossover artists such as Jenkins and Andre Rieu.

Togher, a former singer, believes opera companies have largely resisted this trend. Nevertheless, he argues the growing role of directors in opera has ratcheted up the visual and dramatic demands on singers. He cautions: "We must be careful not to go down the road of the recording industry, where many of the bestselling classical stars are marketed for entirely the wrong reasons. Frankly, most of them are never hired by any self-respecting performing organisation." For Togher, "opera and classical music should be celebrated as high-end Western art ... Frankly, I'm suspicious if I see an Otello or Aida who looks like a supermodel." He has been attending the opera for decades and says that "invariably, the thing that gets the punters out of their seats is top-class, white-hot singing".

EARLIER this year, critic Peter Conrad asked plaintively: "Isn't it enough to possess an almost superhuman technical skill? Must the concert platform be a catwalk, the soloist a mannequin?"

Writing in Britain's The Observer newspaper, Conrad noted how "the face of classical music once belonged to an old man, usually an octogenarian conductor: craggy Klemperer, Karajan with his bristling white quiff. Now, as orchestras and recording companies adjust to new demographic realities, the face of the art more often belongs to a young woman whose body is part of the pitch.

"Sopranos advertise their CDs by sprawling availably on the floor for the obligatory photoshoot, and the industry (which is what it calls itself) exploits the charms as well as the talents of a sorority of young violinists."

He reckons this culture dates to 1994 "when Vanessa-Mae, aged 15, was photographed in a wet dress, frolicking on a tropical beach while purportedly playing Bach on her violin".

Two acclaimed sopranos who were due to visit Australia last month embody the extremes of this debate. Australian-born Danielle de Niese toured with the ACO, performing a new piece by Carl Vine to mark the centenary of Patrick White's birth. De Niese, 33, has performed at Glyndebourne in Britain and the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, and her beauty and stagecraft set her apart from many other singers.

On stage and off, she is happy to capitalise on her sex appeal. In 2005, she created a sensation at Glyndebourne when she played Cleopatra in Guilio Cesare as a Hollywood siren might. In one scene, she stripped down to a satin sheet as she fantasised about her lover, rubbing her hands suggestively over her breasts and climbing into a clawfoot bath while two servants sponged her. Three years ago, she created a very different sensation. She gave a press interview in which she was quoted as saying: "We [female opera singers] could not go on being elephants on stage." Those words provoked a furious debate, although de Niese firmly denies saying them.

At the other end of the spectrum is Deborah Voigt, who last month pulled out of concerts in Sydney and Melbourne because she had to undergo hip surgery. Eight years ago, Voigt was dropped from a Royal Opera House production because she could not fit into a dress the director demanded she wear.

This became known as the little black dress scandal. The American soprano underwent gastric bypass surgery and shed more than 45kg. She eventually returned to Covent Garden and played the role she was once denied.

Voigt has said her weight loss has helped her play dramatic roles with more conviction. But she has also said her singing doesn't come as easily as when she was bigger.

Voigt's experience recalls a legend involving superstar Maria Callas, who was said to have swallowed a tapeworm in the 1950s so she could lose weight. Many critics felt Callas's voice was never the same after she slimmed down, parasite or not.

Murray Black, an opera and classical music critic for The Australian, reckons more emphasis is put on performers' looks than in Callas's heyday. He says, "the contemporary marketing of opera singers and classical musicians is increasingly based on good looks ... In the past, if a musician or singer was considered to be good-looking, it was still promoted, but in a subtler way."

He says that if Sutherland and Pavarotti were starting out now, their talent would be recognised. But he adds: "They would probably feel more pressure from their agents and marketing representatives to slim down in today's environment."

The critic argues that while crossover groups such as Il Divo and Bond are based on sexualised marketing rather than talent, "in classical music and opera it is more complicated. Glamorous performers might have an initial advantage, but there's nowhere to hide if the talent isn't there."

Plotkin, whose opera blog has a vast following, is less sanguine about classical culture buying into pop culture's sex and beauty ideals. He reflects: "There have always been beautiful opera singers (Maria Callas, Franco Corelli, Kiri Te Kanawa), but the ones we remember also were great singers. Their physical appeal was part of their allure, but not the reason for their allure.

"There are many incredibly well-trained singers and instrumentalists today. The fact that they are often passed over in favour of less talented but prettier performers is the failure of imagination (and lack of humanity) in the people who do the hiring."