To call Sergei Leiferkus a “living legend” is an understatement. The Leningrad-born baritone has carved out a reputation for his powerfully dramatic command of Russian and Italian repertories, appearing as Plácido Domingo’s Iago on recording and for the Royal Opera House and as Prince Tomsky opposite various luminous casts in Tchaikovsky’s Pique Dame. Yet for the marks he’s made on the stages of Covent Garden, the Metropolitan Opera House, La Scala, the Vienna Staatsoper, San Francisco Opera, and more, one of Leiferkus’ closest ties is to the Dallas Opera.
As we continue our highlight of the Lone Star State with special focus paid to the Houston Grand Opera Studio Program, schools like Southern Methodist University and UT–Austin’s Butler School of Music. and the companies themselves, we offer this supplemental interview with Leiferkus, done while he was making his eleventh appearance with the Dallas Opera as the corrupt Jesuit Rangoni in Boris Godunov—the city’s first production of the work in over three decades. With a recent move into a new opera house, a changeover in artistic and administrative leadership, and an ongoing commitment to innovative productions of both new and traditional works and both established and up-and-coming singers—all in the face of an economic downturn—what keeps this world-class singer coming back? Read on for this answer and more.
This is your eleventh production with the Dallas Opera. What was your first?
It’s interesting because my first visit here was in 1990, the hundred years’ anniversary from first production of Prince Igor. And they did a production of Prince Igor here and that was my first coming. But it was not just a production, because Prince Igor is the literature monument [of] Russian literature. They [brought a] Russian art exhibition to the Dallas Museum and as a final dot—of course [in addition to the] production—was the Russian ball. So that kind of event brought me here the first time.
And over the last decade or so, what keeps you coming back to Dallas?
I’ve been really surprised by how warm the company is. And you’re [giving of yourself] 100 times more if you feel that kind of attention to you. Of course, that’s coming from the head of the theater. That came from [Dallas Opera’s General Director] Plato Karayanis and Dorothy, his wife, who were running theater for I don’t know how many years—and of course from [Artistic Director] Jonathan Pell.
That is the best thing for artists, because we are like children: We need someone to say, “Oh, you’re a good boy, you’re my pride.” And then you open your heart and then you open all your skills and everything you have inside. All your art is exploring onstage. That’s how I felt myself and I came more or less every second year here: Don Giovanni, Eugene Onegin . . . . It’s why I fell in love with the Metropolitan Opera. . . . It was very difficult to not just move from the 33rd street location to existing now at the Metropolitan Opera, but to bring the spirits. You need to take the old ghosts from there, the phantoms over there, and bring them to the new place. And that was the most difficult situation.
The Dallas Opera has a considerable number of ghosts—from Callas and Sutherland to Ruth Ann Swenson and Renée Fleming— in their old house which they moved out of last year. Do you think they brought the ghosts to the new house?
Oh, yes, definitely yes. They’re doing well, and you see a reaction of the audience. Yesterday[’s performance] was not 100 percent full, but it [was] a pretty big audience. And how they reacted, how they listened—standing ovation after the show—that’s really a wonderful situation even with this very complicated piece, Boris Godunov. Who knows the Russian history? Practically one [out of] 1,000 in the United States. Believe me, it’s the same in Russia. It was a really, really complicated time for Russian history. So to completely understand that, this opera or this story, this play, it’s very difficult. But we have a wonderful positive result. This Tarkovsky production, from my point of view, is one of the best-ever productions of Boris Godunov. The combination of real traditional things and modern things, I think that’s the best situation that we can meet at the theater.
It seems to be a fine line many companies are walking these days with traditional versus modern stagings.
I’m not against modern productions, but behind them should be great ideas. Why? If there is no idea, what are we talking about? If the director couldn’t explain to you what he means here, what he sees here, it’s useless. Absolutely. And fortunately there are [at least a few] directors who understand that and they’re doing that combination of real and modern things. As an example, I can tell you I was last summer at a world premiere of A Dog’s Heart by composer Alexander Raskatov and [based on the] Bulgakov story, in Amsterdam at the Netherlands Opera, directed by Simon McBurney. He is a fantastic actor himself and a very gifted and knowledgeable director. And he did exactly the same things: combination of a modern theater and real, traditional things.
It’s so easy for directors to take an opera and . . . create their own performance. But it’s not what the composer thought. Or the people who did the libretto, orchestration, publishing—they saw an absolute different case scenario. No one is drawing a mustache for the Mona Lisa. Why not? It’s boring to see so many years the same picture. OK, let’s put on a beard, donkey’s ears, etc., etc. Why not? Why is it possible with music? Why is it possible with opera? Why is it not possible with art itself? That’s a very complicated situation, and I think people are really happy to see this kind of production [in “Boris”].
One of the great things about this production is that at times the stage is overflowing with people, but you still don’t lose sight of who these characters are as individuals.
You’re right, absolutely. Because it’s a very precise focus on the character. That’s interesting, really interesting. It’s very difficult to choose repertoire, what people would like to see and listen to. . . .
Theater is more than entertainment. It’s an educational platform. And also an element of fairytale is in the theater itself. Why we were dreaming with Karayanis about this new theater? Because Fair Park is a nice stage, OK, nice facilities—but there is less fairytale than at the theater.
Can you talk a bit more about the fairytale?
If you are planning to go to the opera or ballet, you’re planning to go to the theater. From the morning of, you start thinking—doesn’t matter if it’s a matinee or evening performance—you’re thinking of coming over there. When you’re dressing up, you’re expecting. All possible nerves in your body are shivering because it’s an exciting moment. You are coming. You see the audience, you see the hall, you see the lights, and you’re looking at the curtain. That’s part of the fairytale. We’re all children inside. We’re still children, doesn’t matter how old you are. We’re all children. And that is a performance for both of us, for audience and for artists. That is a really fantastic moment. And to say, “Oh, we’re doing modern productions because we would like to bring young generations into the theater,” that’s not true.
The new works and major American debuts here, however, have generated a significant amount of buzz—last year Dallas gave the world premiere of Jake Heggie’s Moby Dick, and you have several important singers making their U.S. debuts in this production of “Boris.” Why do you think so much of this activity happens in Dallas?
It’s again what I’m talking about. That’s the personal attention for the opera house—because Jonathan Pell came to Russia to choose personally all people for all the roles, because there are many stars or semi-stars, let’s say. But what about new names? How to bring new people to United States or to Dallas? And that’s how he’s seeing his position, his job. He needs to bring wonderful voices, wonderful acting over here, not just to hear by rumor: “They did it in Chicago or they did it in Santa Fe or they did it in Metropolitan or they did it in Houston, and there were some performances, very good performances.” No. To listen personally—not a recording, but personally—and to choose, “This good for Boris or not?” And he chose a young bass who eight years ago was a prize winner of Tchaikovsky Competition. I was sitting on the jury. He is the youngest-ever Boris on the international stage. He’s young. And he’s very promising. So that is again personal attention, the company’s attention to the job, how to do it, what to do, what we need to do. And its result, I think, it’s the same here because people are talking to each other and they say, “Oh, yesterday I saw fantastic performance of Boris Godunov.” And of course, all relatives, friends, acquaintances go, “Oh, we need to come.” And more and more audiences are coming.
They seem very eager to take risks here.
It’s of course risky. But if you know exactly what kind of production it would be, you can choose actor or singer—particularly for this production. . . . Jonathan never did, in my experience, wrong things. His vision is absolutely 3-D. Only difference? You don’t need the special glasses. [Laughs] So it’s coming—all this emotional sense is coming to the audience. That’s what I call three dimension. So that’s very interesting because many things—of course, theater—are made not correctly. Sometimes they chose people who are not comfortable here, and finally the company changed those people. More and more and more, they’re creating a group of enthusiasts.
It ties into that idea of civic pride and creating a sense of ownership.
[This is a] young opera with great traditions and ambitions. The Turtle Creek area, that’s a really good neighborhood. And you can feel what kind of attention [people] pay for their city, how they’re decorating the city. The blossom is over, unfortunately, but 10 days ago the azaleas were fully blossoming—thousands of bushes over here. And tulips and roses. Me and my wife, we’re great fans of gardening—in Russia and Britain and Portugal, we’re creating our gardens. And we are surprised how people are looking after their city. And that is connecting to the theater, of course.
Of course, it’s a hard time financially, hard time bringing money into the theaters especially. Either you have Plácido Domingo who’s bringing money into the theater—his charisma brings money, his relations—or you need to be a genius administrator like Gergiev with the Mariinsky Opera. Or you have to create your strategy and tactics.
So you think Dallas is part of that third category?
How [this] company did it from the beginning: they bought a plot first. For many, many years, this ground was empty; just belonged to Dallas Opera. Then they bought rehearsal facilities. At the same time, they were collecting money for building this opera house.
Once we were sitting with Karayanis, and I said, “Plato, tell me, please. You have so many wealthy people here, rich people here.”
He said, “Yeah, of course, we’re doing well, but it’s not enough at the moment to even start building.” And at that time, Ross Perot was nominated twice for the presidency.
I said, “Plato, I’m a stupid foreigner. Can you organize a meeting with Ross Perot?”
Half an hour or 20 minutes later, Ross rang Plato and said, “Can Mr. Leiferkus come tomorrow at 11 o’clock in the morning?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Only one condition: he needs to be in a white shirt and a tie.” Because [Perot is] very strict, very precise with a dress code. For women, no pants; stockings or tights. Men: shirt, tie, jacket.
And I came to his office and he was with the previous visitor and apologized that he needs 15 minutes more. And I start looking: pretty big reception area and fantastic collection of American Indian art.
Then he invited me to his study and we start talking. He was asking who I am and where [I’m] from, my background and education, . . . how I became a singer. And then he said, “Well, tell me, please, what’s the reason that brought you here?”
“I didn’t come to ask you to give money to Dallas Opera.” He didn’t expect that. I said, “Mr. Perot, if I were an American citizen, I would be working for you.”
He said, “Why?”
“Because, you” (he is a self-created man, he started from zero, he made his money by himself, no wealthy family, grandparents, etc., etc.)—“the U.S. doesn’t need you right now.” That was under Reagan at the time, and economy was fantastically healthy.
He said, “Why?”
I said, “If it would be 1930, yes, the country needs a leader who will teach it how to recover, how to make better, how to get. But at the moment, there are so many other people. And also, may I ask you, how many presidents were in the United States? Forty-something. How many known? A few. But mainly: George Washington, partly because of George Washington Bridge. Kennedy, partly because of Kennedy Center. Lincoln, because of Lincoln Center. What about Ross Perot Center in Dallas?”
What did he say to that?
You know, his smile was from ear to ear. He said, “Wow. You know, that’s interesting. But you know, my son and I are building a football stadium at the moment.”
But he gave money as a result. Because that kind of conversation, it’s not directly “Will you give money?” He would say, “Probably not.” But if you are going by this way, that’s tactics. That’s a very good thing to create.
He said, “I’m not interested about arts.”
I said, “I don’t believe you.”
“Why?”
“Because, I saw your collection over there.”
“Oh, that’s my wife.”
“That doesn’t matter, that’s family.”
And that’s family who are around the opera house, more wealthy or less wealthy. So you need to create a group [such] as Dallas Opera relating to people.
Why do I keep coming to Dallas? That’s why.
