When luminous soprano Sari Gruber won the Naumburg Foundation International Vocal Competition in June of 2005, she joined a select group of musicians—both singers and instrumentalists—who have earned this singular honor. Yet few of Ms. Gruber’s colleagues were surprised by her success. Since her debut at New York City Opera in 1996, she has been in constant demand, earning acclaim at such companies as Lyric Opera of Chicago, Los Angeles Opera, Opera Theatre of St. Louis, Netherlands Opera and Opera Pacific. This month Ms. Gruber will travel to Pittsburgh Opera to sing Despina, and in October she’ll debut as Musetta with the Opera Company of Philadelphia, where she played Norina to accolades last season.
Ms. Gruber spoke to CS by phone while relaxing at home in Massachusetts after her first Naumburg recital at the Lincoln Center’s Alice Tully Hall.
You grew up in Germany, a country with many regional companies. Was opera part of your childhood?
It certainly was. Both my parents, who are American, moved to Germany shortly after I was born. My father was working as a physical chemist, and my parents discovered opera at the Munich Opera House in the late ‘50s. When I was growing up in the early ‘70s, we lived near Stuttgart in a tiny town called Tübingen, and when I was 3, I saw my first opera, a staged version of Carmina Burana. We didn’t return to the States until I was 8-and-a-half, so in subsequent years I also saw Don Giovanni, Die Walküre and Der Rosenkavalier.
Did you sing in high school and college?
By the time I was in high school, our family had moved to Southern California. I got the leads in plays but was relegated to the chorus in musicals because I wasn’t considered a solo singer. My drama teacher always said, “You don’t have the strongest voice, but gosh, what a great actress you are.” [Laughs.] I send him all my announcements now!
In my first year of college at Yale, I joined an a cappella group. All my friends were taking voice lessons so I thought, “There’s a wonderful music school here and I can take lessons with a grad student and get my chops up a little bit.” At the start of my sophomore year I did an audition, and faculty members sat in to help with placement. Lili Chookasian, the very well-known contralto, heard me. She called later the same day and said, “You! In my studio!”
It was very unusual for an undergraduate to get into a major professor’s studio. Miss Chookasian introduced me to Lieder and other repertoire that was appropriate for my voice, and she got me started on very basic technique. Everything came together quickly, because my love of music and my love of theater were finally all in one place. I found that balance incredibly challenging and fascinating—and I do to this day! I really credit my teacher with hearing something, taking a chance, and igniting my passion.
When did you decide to train for opera?
By the end of my sophomore year, I thought I might give it a shot. During my senior year, I created the Yale Undergraduate Opera Company—which is still going under the name Opera Theater of Yale—and I did a production of The Marriage of Figaro, the first of many Susannas. I was applying to graduate schools. I’d already spent two summers at Aspen Music Festival and was headed to the Tanglewood Music Center the summer after graduation. I was starting to understand what I needed to learn.
When I graduated from Yale in 1993 and moved on to The Juilliard School for my master’s, I wanted to give it my all. Even so, I was extraordinarily surprised, three years later, to be on the stage of New York City Opera making my debut as Nanetta in Falstaff. That opportunity got me management, and it got me noticed.
What is your Fach?
I describe myself as a lyric with an extension. I do some coloratura repertoire, but I don’t consider myself a true coloratura. I don’t exactly fit in one niche, which perhaps confuses casting directors.
Tell us about your first vocal competition. Was it a good experience?
I haven’t been a huge competition bunny, so the first one I remember is the Met. My official residence in 1995 was in Southern California, and I participated in the Western regionals that fall. I tied with two other sopranos and wound up in the finals at the Met in the spring of 1996. Walking out on that stage was a tremendous experience, because of the great singers who have graced that house. I felt profoundly moved. But I was in rehearsal for The Marriage of Figaro at Juilliard Opera Center, so I didn’t have as relaxed an experience as some of my colleagues who were focusing exclusively on the Met auditions.
What I found especially difficult about the Met competition was that I felt everyone was there to dissect my voice. I hadn’t been singing since the age of 15 like most of my soprano colleagues. Suddenly, an inferiority complex took over. It affected my performance and I wasn’t able to sing my best. I didn’t move on, but I learned I’m not a happy competitor. Some people do very well in that situation, probably the kind of person who would also do well in competitive sports.
Yet you decided to compete again.
Yes, I did a number of competitions. I didn’t get the glory, but I won a thousand dollars here and $500 there, and those funds helped me pay my bills. The one competition that was very helpful was the William Mattheus Sullivan Foundation Grant that sponsored my role studies for five years. That was an incredible award!
Are there any other benefits from competing? For instance, have you gotten jobs from exposure to judges who were general directors of opera companies?
I think I’ve gotten work from competitions simply because of who was on the panel or who was in town and happened to stop by to listen. Everyone in the industry is looking for new talent. I actually found several mentors that way, such as [director] Stephen Wadsworth, [conductor] Mark Gibson and [director of the Met National Council] Gayletha Nichols.
You seem to have a knack for finding vocal champions.
Since meeting Ms. Chookasian at Yale, I’ve found people who’ve been extremely supportive, and I think I made good decisions early on, with the help of various mentors. I’ve never felt I was out there all alone, but I also painstakingly wrote letters—in the days before e-mail—to let people know about the recitals and operas I was doing. It took an incredible amount of time. And when I received leads about possible roles, I put my materials in the mail the next day. I had to act as my own manager before my debut at City Opera. Frankly, I think it’s harder to find management now. It’s harder to be a singer, period.
How do you create the right “look” for auditions or competitions?
You have to decide what your best features are. I think my eyes are my best feature, so I make sure to emphasize them. I also try to tailor my clothing to what will translate well. If I’m on a stage in a large hall, I wear something long, possibly evening wear. A short skirt on a big stage doesn’t work. Sorry, girls! [Laughs.] But if you’re in a small room, you don’t need a long skirt. In fact, a lot of people auditioning in a small room want to see your legs, especially if you’re going out for soubrette roles.
Last June you won the Naumburg International Vocal Competition, which is dedicated to the performance of art song. When and how did you enter?
I was home in the fall of 2004—I live in the Berkshires—when I got an announcement for the Naumburg. I hadn’t been competing at all for several years, and I thought, “This might be interesting.” A while later, when I was in Portland doing Street Scene, I put together my application, which included two huge recital programs. I sent it off, and my attitude was, “If I’m ever going to have a chance at winning a competition, this might be it.”
I think I got my acceptance letter in April of 2005, and I began making my plans. I asked my collaborator, pianist Cameron Stowe, to come down from Canada. He and I have been working on recitals together for 10 years, and we considered this a competition for the two of us, not just me. We program together, we split our fees, and we have an equal relationship, which I feel is how recitals should be done. Anyway, we pulled together a program that included songs of Andre Caplet, Rachmaninoff, Schubert, Debussy and the German songs of Grieg.
Can you describe Naumburg’s judging process?
The competition, which was held in New York, spanned a week last June. There were 50 singers at the start, and the judges winnowed us down to 12, then four. In the first two rounds you got to choose your first song, and then the judges chose your next 25 minutes of music. The final round was treated as a small recital, and you got to choose everything. I knew that if I got to the final, no curve balls would be thrown at me. It would be an opportunity to perform the way I like to perform. I had set my goal, and getting into the finals of Naumburg was all I needed.
The final was held on the stage of Alice Tully Hall, and the
performance was for the judges and a small invited audience. I geared things in a way so I could walk on and do a Spanish song with lots of fury that made me feel very strong. I didn’t have too many nerves after the first few seconds because Cameron and I were in a good zone. I zigged and he zigged, I zagged and he zagged. We had a really good day.
Afterward, the judges conferred for what seemed like an eternity, and when they announced that we’d won, it was an unreal moment. It took me several months to believe it, because winning the Naumburg is a major honor, not just for a singer but for any musician. I have an incredible reverence for the organization and the artists who have preceded me.
How has the Naumburg prize affected your career?
I think it has made people notice me again. I’m well established on the regional opera circuit, but I’ve felt some renewed interest. [Laughs.] By the way, the Naumburg was my last competition!
You gave your first Naumburg recital on Feb. 10, at Alice Tully Hall. Was that your New York recital debut?
No, I’d made my New York recital debut with the Marilyn Horne Foundation in 1997. Then, in 2000, I’d just gotten back from a tour when I was asked to fill a last-minute cancellation at the Weill Recital Hall [in Carnegie Hall]. I also had a 2000 Alice Tully concert through Juilliard, which awards a recital to a student or alumnus.
How did your recent Tully performance differ from other recitals?
In the recent past, I’ve grown as a person and a singer. I got married in 2000 [to William J. Powers, general director of Berkshire Opera Company], and my marriage has propelled me forward personally. I’ve done a lot of work on myself, vocally and in other ways, and I think that walking out on the Tully stage last February was a much different experience. I have a lot more confidence, a lot more ability to be vulnerable. I don’t think I have as much to prove as a singer. Taking a step back has been very good for me. That doesn’t mean stepping back in terms of energy, but I’m allowing myself to be a pure channel for the music and the expression.
As for handling nerves, Cameron and I tried something new. Usually, we walk on stage, we bow, Cameron gets settled at the piano, and I turn in to the piano and lower my eyes. For this recital we decided to skip the preparation step. We decided I’d go out and keep my eyes on the audience until the music started. The idea was to walk on and start singing! And it worked great! I plan to use it again. There’s a second Naumburg recital on March 15, 2007. I’ll sing a world premiere song cycle by American composer George Tsontakis. It was commissioned by the Naumburg Foundation, and I can’t wait to hear what he’s going to do.
Do you have any advice for young singers who want to compete?
From a very practical standpoint, competing can fill in some financial holes. Awards will allow you to pay for lessons and coaching, and if you live in New York, you’re always looking for ways to pay the rent. Competing can also help you learn your own response to certain types of pressure. For me personally, there was never any greater pressure than walking on stage during the finals of a competition when I felt I was being dissected. You have to learn how to deal with it, because even in an opera you can feel very alone or exposed on stage. So you might as well get used to that and learn your chops that way!
Sometimes you’ll do well, sometimes not. But whatever you do, whether you win or lose, you should keep a diary about how you felt. You should record the things that threw you, the things that made you feel good and the ultimate result. That’s something a coach told me early on.
Finally, you should remember that in a competition the judges watching your performance are not seeing you develop a character over an entire evening. In a competition, you have to wow them with your strengths—high notes, coloratura and volume—and if you have some personality you can throw in, great! [Laughs.] I hate to distill the process to its essence, but I think this is true. The judges want you to do well. They want to find the next great talent, and you know what? That might just be you.
Your opera career is in full swing. What are the roles you most enjoy?
I have to say the role of Susanna in “Figaro” is my favorite. She’s an amazing woman. I also really love Gilda and Juliette and the kind of youth, innocence and passion that they bring to their short lives. And I love the wit of women like Norina, Adina and Musetta. There are some new roles I’m dying to do: Sophie in “Rosenkavalier,” and Violetta. I’d also like to do the Governess in Turn of the Screw, Blanche in “Dialogues,” The Cunning Little Vixen and Melisande.
How are you going to approach your first Musetta in October?
Musetta’s got a heart of gold, and she’s very aware of her sexual appeal when it comes to Marcello. She just loves making him jealous! I’ve never played her before, so maybe my opinion of her will change as I sing the role in Philadelphia. My Marcello will be Troy Cook, who’s one of my favorite people in the business.
Do colleagues make a difference in your professional fulfillment?
Oh, absolutely. The support of your colleagues is worth its weight in gold, and particularly in an ensemble show like “Bohème” or “Figaro,” it’s necessary to have a tight-knit cast to make it work. These people are friends on stage so they should be friends off stage, as much as possible. There are such wonderful people in this business who are in the same boat you’re in. They’re away from their families. They just want to have dinner with a nice group of people and have a laugh and be able to share things. I think it’s an incredible community we have among singers. We’re all on the road and we’re each other’s work family.
Do you have any vocal issues you’re concerned about?
I constantly grapple with the fact that my voice changes. It’s something people don’t always talk about, but with every year that passes something different is happening: A new note comes in, another note becomes harder; different areas of your voice expand, others trip you up. I’m always trying to find a new balance with the instrument as it is—that day, that month, that year. I feel at this point I have a pretty solid technique so I can do most of it on my own. But I continue to study with Marlena Malas [at Juilliard], and feel very very grateful to have an excellent pair of ears to help me. When I come back from being on the road I try to get down to New York City for a day or two and get some lessons in. I saw her a lot in February before the Naumburg recital. [Laughs.]
Are you happy with your career so far?
I’m making a very good living doing what I love. That’s my definition of success!
For more information, please visit www.SariGruber.com.
