It proved somewhat difficult not to bear that title in mind as I went on my own (interview) date with Mr. Ramey. Yet as a perfect complement to the extraordinary artist, I discovered a nice, humble, humorous, warm human being. Here is my conversation with the man who is one of the world’s most celebrated basses, and by far, the most handsome and charismatic “devil” of the operatic stage.
What did you want to do when you were a kid?
It was always a dream of mine to be a professional baseball player. I was OK, but not that talented in baseball. Then I got interested in singing. When I first started to sing, I thought I’d be a pop singer, because I didn’t know anything about opera, growing up. Then, when I went to college, I had decided to study music, but with the idea of becoming a teacher.
Where did you go to college?
I first went to Kansas State University in Manhattan, Kan. I was studying voice, working on “Non più andrai” from Le Nozze di Figaro and my teacher suggested that I find a recording just to get an idea of the style. So, I went to a record store and found this old LP of Ezio Pinza. I listened to him, and that sparked an interest. I started going to the library and listening to opera more. Then one summer, a friend of mine told me about an opera company in Central City, Colo., which hired young singers to sing in the chorus. So I made a tape, sent it off to them—and they hired me.
Then I went to Central City. That was my first experience in opera; I’d never seen an opera until I was in one.
Who discovered that you actually had an operatic voice?
I think it was my high school music teacher, who also gave me voice lessons. She thought I had some talent. And then, when I started studying seriously in college, I got very good encouragement.
Was your family supportive?
Yes. Almost everybody in my family was talented in music: everybody sang—my brothers and my sister sang just for the fun of it. My mother always hoped one of us would have a career, and I was her last chance—so she was happy I decided to pursue music professionally.
When you started to study voice, what challenged you most?
Well, the high notes were never really a problem. I always had good high notes. I don’t know why! I think the big challenge for my voice was [to achieve] a concentration of the sound. My teacher, who I’m still with—Armen Boyajian—had me concentrate on focusing the sound. When I first started studying with him, I tended to spread a little bit, so that also affected the quality of the voice. It is important for a bass voice to be very focused.
You can get as technical as you want.
It’s difficult for me to talk about the technical [aspect].
What is your mission when you sing?
Oh, wow! That’s hard to put into words. I think it’s just giving…I like to think of giving the best total performance that I can. I don’t think very much about technique.
What I love when I see you perform is your stillness—but at the same time, it is obvious you emanate this huge energy from inside. It’s really difficult to separate the stillness from the energy, and to balance them. How did you find that balance?
I’ve always tried to think of my performances as being very compact. I think overly done movement or gesturing is silly. A lot of the drama in opera is in the music; it doesn’t need a lot movement. I think all the acting has to be very compact; everything has to have a meaning. You can’t just flail your arms because it helps you vocally. Everything you do should mean something. Within this compact idea, the energy is then channeled in one direction and not scattered all over. Then I can maintain the stillness and not waste any energy on unnecessary movements.
Where does a bass’s passaggio lie?
For me, it’s D flat, D, E flat—right in there.
Is there anything you do differently when you sing in that area of your voice?
No. I don’t think about it.
What do you feel in your body when you produce those really low notes?
I feel all the resonators, not just the chest, but all of them. Some people make the mistake of losing the head resonators when they sing low notes. The low notes feel predominantly in the chest, but you still feel the other resonators.
You made your Met debut in 1984 in Rinaldo, which requires a lot of agility. How important is agility for a bass and for heavier voices?
I think it’s very important, because as bass voices get older, they tend to get over-dark and woolly-sounding. For that reason, it’s very important to always practice keeping a voice agile. I always do agility exercises to keep the voice flexible and light, not pushed or heavy.
Do you still see your voice teacher?
Oh, yes. When I’m in New York, I try to see Armen as much as my schedule allows.
What do your lessons with him consist of now?
Basically, repertoire. I’m still doing new roles, so anything new that I do, I always take to him to prepare.
This has been a very long teacher-student relationship for you.
It will be 35 years in November! Election Day of 1970 was my first lesson with him.
Do you think it’s better to stay with one teacher?
I think it’s a mistake for singers to change teachers constantly. But I can’t really speak for other singers, because when I found Armen, I just knew he was the best for me, and we’ve had such a good relationship.
What has kept you going to him all this time?
He takes a real personal interest in his students. He goes to performances. If you’re doing something new, he’s always there the first time you do it, and sometimes comes back again. He’s one of the few teachers who really do that.
How do you stay in such great physical shape?
I try to exercise. I don’t run because my knees don’t let me run. I like to do power walking as often as I can. I work out a little bit, sometimes at the gym. I lift weights, but I’m careful not to overdo it, because it can be bad for singers, as you know.
You don’t do any other sports?
I play some golf, but that’s all.
You’re an amazing actor, and you bring credibility to such a variety of roles. How do you prepare a role?
Well, it’s not something that I really do much on my own. I usually wait until I work with the stage director—unless it’s a role that I’m not doing for the first time and I go into a production without much rehearsal. This is very often the case in some European theatres, where you get two-day rehearsals. In that case, I have to call on my own resources. But generally, if I’m doing something new, or something I haven’t done very often, then I just like to develop the character while working with the director, getting his ideas, coming up with a few ideas of my own, and combining them.
What do you do if there’s something you don’t agree with?
You know, that really hasn’t happened. Well, maybe a few times in my career. But I haven’t really had big problems with directors. I’ve been lucky in that way, I guess.
Sometimes you see one-dimensional performances of Mephistopheles—your specialty—in Faust. I’ve seen basses who try to do the role as purely evil.
Well, that’s not the whole character. He has a few evil moments. But by and large, he has to have a lot of charm, I think. Mephistopheles is a very multi-faceted character. He has a little bit of everything in him. In fact, I’ve done productions where in each act he’s almost a different character, with a totally different costume. He has to be very adaptable. He can’t be always evil. If he comes on the stage and he’s just evil from the outset, how is that going to persuade Faust to sign the contract? He has to be seductive to win people over. In the end, he doesn’t win of course, but he does in the beginning.
Another role I really loved you in is Philip in Don Carlo. How do you approach an aria like “Ella giammai m’amò?”
This is the moment when Philip is most fragile. I think the moments when someone is alone, and reflecting on his or her life are the most tragic moments in a character. That’s really the only moment in the opera where Philip is by himself. The music before Philip even sings is just very lonely sounding. That could be almost like he’s sleepwalking, or just unable to sleep, and he could be pacing the room. I’ve never done it staged that way, but it could be an idea. I just think the music in this aria gives you everything you need to know about how to approach it.
You’ve been performing for more than 30 years. What would you say is the secret of your longevity?
I don’t really know. I’ve been very fortunate, I think, that my voice has remained in good shape. I mean, it’s not where it was 10 years ago, of course, but it serves me well.
As a bass, you have to constantly sort of reinvent yourself, looking for different repertoire. Now, I could no longer do Don Giovanni or Nozze di Figaro, some of the roles that I’ve been known for in the past. You have to think repertoire changes, and looking at new things that suit your voice as it matures. A couple of years ago I did Gianni Schicchi for the first time, in Los Angeles.
And you also did Scarpia recently.
Yeah. I do Scarpia a lot the next few years. I’m also looking at things like Don Pasquale.
How did you approach the role of Scarpia? Sometimes you hear people just aggressively barking it out.
Yeah, I know. And I’ve seen a lot done that way. It is a part I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I did it the first time in London, 11 or 12 years ago. Then it didn’t come about again until last year at the Met. So more than 10 years went by without doing it. I had a big success when I did it in London. But now, in the next couple of years, I do it quite a bit. But Scarpia can’t be just brutal and aggressive. Just like Mephistopheles, he has to have a little bit of charm, magnetism, and seductiveness, I think.
And it helps when you are so handsome.
Does it? I don’t know… it doesn’t seem to work with Tosca!
Tell me about working on recordings.
Well, in the beginning, when I first started doing recordings, I recorded a lot of things that I’d never performed. That’s difficult, because you just learn the music and you’re just singing notes. When I finally got to start doing recordings of things that I had done a lot—the staples of my repertoire—then, during the process of a recording, I can sort of imagine myself in the production, and I think that really makes a difference. It can take on more of a theatrical performance. That’s important to me when I record.
What singers of the past were your idols and inspiration?
Ezio Pinza certainly had a very early influence on me because a recording of his is what really sparked my interest in opera. I think I have most of his records. Cesare Siepi is also somebody that is really up on a pedestal for me. There was also another man, who sang mostly at New York City Opera: Norman Treigle. He was somebody that I admire very much. Nicolai Ghiaurov was also one of my favorites.
What do you do when you’re not singing? Any hobbies?
Well, in the last few years, I’ve started playing some golf. I have a lot of singer friends who play. If I know I’m going be working with somebody who’s a golfer, I’ll take my clubs along, so that can be fun.
You do around 70 performances a year?
Yeah. I never really sat down and counted. I’d probably be shocked if I did!
Do you ever take breaks?
It usually works that I have a couple of weeks here and there. I don’t purposely just set aside time. For instance, this past summer I had about six weeks off, which was nice.
When you take breaks, do you keep singing?
Most of the time, I do, because I’m usually learning new things. So, most of the time off that I have, I’m studying, preparing things. But once in a while, I’ll take a break.
Do you ever teach?
I am starting to teach. In fact, I’m on the faculty of Roosevelt University in Chicago, this coming year. It’s on a very limited basis because I’m still very busy with my singing. Lots of times, wherever I’m working, young singers will always come up and ask me: “Would you listen to me and give me some advice?” And I do that quite frequently.
How is that experience for you?
It’s nice. To start really teaching intimidates me a bit right now, you know. I’ve not really done that. I’m going to have to go to my teacher, Armen, to get a lesson on how to teach. He told me: “When you start wanting to teach, you come to me and I’ll help you.” I’ve done a few master classes, but not a lot.
Lots of times, when I go places to do recitals, someone on a university staff will ask me if I’ll do a master class, so I’ve done it a few times. Master classes at a college can be kind of touchy, because you’re listening to singers who have teachers, so you don’t want to say anything that’s going to offend the singer’s teacher.
Who came up with the whole idea of the “A Date with the Devil” programs?
This was about 10 years ago. I had a contract to do a concert with the St. Luke’s Orchestra here in New York. About a year before, I was talking to the man who had been my first agent, Matthew Epstein, and he came up with the idea. He said: “Why don’t you put together a program doing arias from all the devil roles that you do?” Then he said: “You could even call it: ‘A Date with the Devil.’”
I put together the arias, but he came up with the idea. I’ve got two or three of these concerts this coming season.
What do you normally do on a performance day?
I just take it easy, and I vocalize a little bit throughout the day.
Do you sleep a lot before?
No—unless I’m feeling very tired—then I’ll take a nap. But usually, I’m awake and I take it easy. I go to the theater early, and once I’m in makeup and everything, I vocalize a lot, for about a half hour before the performance.
You’re a bass and a bass-baritone. How does somebody decide whether they’re a bass or a bass-baritone?
I used to call myself a bass-baritone, but that can be confusing. People have different opinions about what a bass-baritone is. I always felt a bass-baritone was somebody who was a bass, but maybe had a little baritonal extension. Some people say a bass-baritone is a voice that is neither a real bass nor a real baritone. It’s something like the Germans say: Zwischenfach—an in-between Fach. I think it’s just what you’re comfortable with, and what sounds good in your voice.
Do you consciously keep in mind the differences in style when you sing Mozart as opposed to Puccini or Bel Canto?
No. That’s not something I think about. In the ‘80s, I sang a lot of Rossini. My voice has gotten heavier and it doesn’t want to move as well as it did 20 years ago, so I’m not singing Rossini anymore. But at that time, I never thought: “Oh, I’m doing Rossini, so I have to do this or that.” It’s not like you’re switching gears. It comes from the music.
You sing a lot in English. Any tips on how to sound good when you’re singing in English?
English is a difficult language to sing in. I’m singing now Billy Budd in Washington. I’m always told that I have very good English diction, but I don’t do anything special. I think maybe because it’s my native language, or maybe [that] in the beginning I used to sing a lot in English in college. We did everything in English, and even when I first began at NYC Opera, I did Figaro in English in The Marriage of Figaro. It wasn’t until 1977, when I did a new production of Figaro at New York City Opera, that we did it in Italian.
Any last words for our readers?
I know that lots of times the hardest thing for a singer to do is say “no” to a role that’s too much too soon. Many singers are too much in a hurry. As soon as they get out of college, they want to start a career. I know that’s a difficult transition, from college to the real world, but I think young singers now have it a lot better than when I was beginning, when I first came to New York. Now all the major opera companies have these fantastic young artists programs, which didn’t really exist when I could have used something like that. So, if singers have a chance to keep studying, they should take it and not rush.
I was offered some things I had to say “no” to, in what I considered early in my career. But I started much later than a lot of singers do. I was fortunate in that I found a good agent in the beginning, and that I had my teacher, Armen. Whenever I was offered something, and I had any question about it, I would always go to Armen.
I think one of the most important things for a singer is you need to find a teacher you can trust completely. Once you’ve found your teacher, stick with him or her and listen to their advice. When you are not sure about repertoire, ask and listen, before taking a step that might be damaging to your voice.
[For photos, schedule and further information about Samuel Ramey, please visit www.samuelramey.com]
