Soprano Tamara Wilson has one of the most authentic Verdi voices of her generation. The past year has been an exciting one for her: she was nominated for a 2016 Olivier Award for her performance as Leonora in English National Opera’s The Force of Destiny, and last fall she was honored with the prestigious Richard Tucker Award. I caught up with her shortly before her Florida Grand Opera performances as Amelia in Un ballo in maschera.
April brings your company debut at Florida Grand Opera as Amelia in Un ballo in maschera.
Amelia was the first role I ever did professionally, after the Houston Grand Opera Studio, during my second year in Houston. Right before Christmas break, I was called into the office. They pushed the score in front of me and told me to look at it over the break, and if I wanted to do it, it was the season opener next year! I was 23!
So you were fast-tracked very suddenly . . . Merry Christmas!
Yeah. I’d never even heard the opera! I listened to the Katia Ricciarelli and Plácido Domingo recording. The whole time I was like, “I can’t do this . . . it’s ridiculous!” Up to that point, I’d sung Clorinda in Cenerentola, the priestess in Aida, and some scenes. I talked to all my coaches and teachers; it was a risk I had to take. Ramón Vargas was the tenor, and Ewa Podleś was Ulrica. Since then, I’ve performed it in Menorca, in Washington, and at Deutsche Oper Berlin this past October/November.
Are you the type of artist who likes to listen to other artists doing your roles?
Absolutely. On YouTube there was a Corelli/Crespin and a Birgit Nilsson conducted by Solti.
Interesting. Both of those sopranos would give you a better sense of how Amelia would fit your particular instrument. Ricciarelli is a bit small and soft grained.
It’s evident when I listened to the stuff where she goes low. Ricciarelli kind of bottoms out, so when I first sang Amelia, I did the same thing! My teacher was like, “No, you’ve got to really pump the gas down there.” It’s easy to think that Amelia is sad and passive—a victim of circumstances. But she went to a witch . . . to try to forget a dude. That’s pretty proactive!
When I first sang her, I felt in the rehearsal process I really had to “go there.” Break down, all the way to find out what my boundaries were. And then I pulled back from there in performance. I don’t play into the whole “Gustavo and Amelia did have a romance.” I think it was more noble. A courtship kind of a thing. She does love her husband. The men both have their faults—one’s jealous, one’s a playboy.
It’s not like there’s one easy choice for you. It gives Amelia a big risk: family, children, everything that’s important to her. Aside from doing some critical listening, how do you prepare?
I used to be the really, really good acting student and go into historical depth. Then I actually started getting into opera stagings and I realized that none of that matters. My HGO production was a remount. I realized it was more about putting the emotion forth and being in the moment.
It’s about relationships. The other stuff is interesting and, for certain operas, important but . . .
It’s usually abstract nowadays, so you’re thinking poetically. The “Ballo” that I just did is more modern, except for the ball itself.
What’s your preference for a show like “Ballo”?
For years I was a traditionalist. But then I started to work with directors who are a little out of the box and I realized that it’s more about the intention of the show, and the drama, than it is about sets and locales. But I do love a pretty show . . . .
How much rehearsal time do you get in Florida?
About two and a half weeks. Which is perfect. I can whip a show I’ve done before together in about two days.
Have you had to do that?
Yes, weirdly enough, when I was doing my debut in Berlin with “Ballo.” We were doing only two performances, both of them on the weekend, so I had all these days in between. It was the Wednesday after our first performance, and the Zurich Opera called, needing me to replace Anja Harteros in Don Carlo. I hadn’t sung it in about a year and a half, but I said yes. I got on a plane and the next morning I was in the Sitzprobe with Luisi, and Ramón Vargas again, and Peter Mattei. I did the opening, then flew back to Berlin.
Did you know that you were in the pipeline for the [Richard] Tucker [Award]?
It was a shock. The day that I was flying to London for the Oliviers was the day Barry Tucker called me. [The Olivier Awards are presented annually to recognize excellence in professional theater in London. They have an Outstanding Achievement in Opera category.] I know it’s silly, but the Oliviers made me more excited than anything I’ve ever done.
I was offered the ENO “Forza” [The Force of Destiny], and at first, I was like “It’s in English, I’m never going to do it again—should I do this?” And my manager said, “Do it to work with the director.” OK. My colleague Tanja Baumgartner asked me what was my year like, and I told her I was going to be working with Calixto Bieito. She says, “Well, get ready! We did Lulu together, and I was topless, covered in blood for half of it. Lulu died on a garbage can completely naked.”
First rehearsal, we’re in pseudo-costume already, and he has a lot of the set done. He wanted it to feel “real” immediately. And he says, “This platform is going to come down, and I want you to stare ahead and cry. Don’t move your face. Tear up; like a camera is on you.”
There was a lot of blood in the show—I had to take two showers a night! The baritone cut my hair every night, so I had to have two wigs a performance. Calixto’s direction was very simple. He basically wanted me to cry through the entire show.
And how did you do that, and still sing Verdi’s Leonora?
I went online to find acting techniques for crying that were still healthy for your body. I came across a video that talked about crying nostalgically. You imagine your childhood home, only thinking about the happy things that happened there. And I was able to cry without going into my sinuses or throat.
Because of the immediacy of the English text, it almost felt more “play-like” than how Verdi had felt to me in the past. In rehearsal, Calixto never wanted me to wear makeup and he wanted my hair the same every day. I liked that, because it felt like we were making a movie, and I was doing “takes.” We rehearsed full out, got some notes, and went home.
And clearly it was all worth it, because you walked away with an Olivier nomination!
Which I knew I wasn’t going to win; no chance. So I made it “A Weekend” with my sister. We love everything British. We got a room at the Savoy. We got to do the red carpet and the whole paparazzi thing. Our seats were in the very back of the Royal Opera House—but everyone had to walk right in front of us: Eddie Izzard, the entire cast of all the Harry Potters, Graham Norton, Imelda Staunton (who killed it in Gypsy), and Judi Dench. At the break, I went to the restroom and as I walked out, so did Dame Judi! I just peed next to Judi Dench!
Do you find that you are sort of at the mercy of the deal makers, in terms of what’s offered—or as you develop a bigger name in the industry, do you have more say in terms of the way you’d like your year to look?
For the first five or six years, you kind of take what you’re given because you need a job. Now I definitely have more say. If a conductor comes up and wants me to do this, I can say, “I love the offer, but it’s just too early for that.”
How do you feel about the fact that a well-meaning fan can have you on YouTube before you’re back home . . . almost before your makeup is off?
Because I started working professionally right when all that stuff was starting to happen, I never had to deal with the transition from privacy. My career was almost instantly public. What I do for that now is I never listen to anything of mine on YouTube, because if I do, I obsess. When I’m done with a project, it’s out of my mind, and I don’t think about it again. I just do my job. If I stay in the moment, those things don’t stress me out.
The Tucker would have been OK if it had stayed on PBS—just the States would’ve been cool. But the fact that the live version was sent worldwide, to me it felt like, “Oh crap! This is like a giant audition!” So that one made me a little nervous. But once I was on that stage, it was like, “Oh yeah. I love to sing and I’m going to sing right now.”
