Bulgarian mezzo-soprano Vesselina Kasarova made her operatic debut in her native country with the Sofia Opera. She came to international attention in 1989, making her first appearances at the Zurich Opera, and only two years later debuting in both Salzburg and Vienna. In a spectacular 14-year career, Kasarova has performed repertoire from Gluck, Handel, Mozart, Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti to Massenet, Gounod and Berlioz, from Mussorgsky and Tchaikovsky to Verdi, Strauss, and Wagner. She has performed in the world’s leading opera houses, and created an impressive discography. This past season, she graced the Met stage as Charlotte in Massenet’s Werther. For more information on the celebrated mezzo, visit her website: www.kasarova.com.
Did you always want to be a singer?
No. I wanted to be an actress. But I started studying piano when I was 4. My parents noticed that I was musical, and encouraged me.
I was actually a very shy child, but I wanted to be on the stage, in the center of attention. That is the phenomenon of performers, isn’t it? Many are shy in real life, but they love the stage. It’s like they live in two worlds.
But I can say that having studied piano has been quite helpful. It’s not just because I can learn the music alone; that is the smallest advantage. Rather, I think like an instrumentalist. As a piano player, you have to express music without words. When you sing, you have the text of course, but I think you shouldn’t count on that, because sometimes the words are repetitive or don’t make sense. The voice alone should tell the story and arouse the emotion, just like an instrument.
How was your life in Bulgaria, as a student during the Iron Curtain years?
Difficult. But I believe two of the very few positive things in that regime were the disciplines of music and sports. We received a very good education in those two fields and had the best teachers to develop us. In our country, and in Eastern Europe in general, music was always highly valued; it is in one’s blood, it comes naturally to people: they can sing.
The program being so demanding, there was a lot of competition. You really had to work hard and fight, because there were so many gifted singers. That was very positive, because it made you stronger. There was pressure to excel in all music-related subjects, such as counterpoint, theory, harmony and so on.
That was a big plus, as opposed to today, when singers don’t take those subjects as seriously. You don’t really see that need to excel in music theory now in Europe, in countries like Germany, Switzerland, or Austria. The truth is: this very detailed music education is not really supported financially, so singers mainly concentrate on singing and instrumentalists on their instruments.
But the big advantage in Eastern Europe was that all of us came out as very well-rounded musicians with an ingrained discipline and work ethic. That was true in Bulgaria, and from what I know from Angela [Gheorghiu], in Romania too. We both studied for five years, everyday, until we were able to get on the stage and sing professionally. I also think that, with life being so difficult around you, there were few temptations and distractions, so you really had no choice but to study. There was hardly anything else to do!
You began your career in Bulgaria, at the Sofia Opera.
Yes. I was 18 when I switched from piano to opera. Then, after studying voice for four years at the Academy, I stepped on the stage for the first time. I didn’t rush to perform right after my first year! So I had a very solid technical base.
How did you decide to switch from piano to voice?
I accompanied singers and worked with them, and sometimes sang along in these coachings, so my colleagues asked me why I wasn’t studying voice. I realized I liked to sing and decided to see if I could do something with my voice—but I never even imagined I would get to where I am today.
Your recent CD is called “Bulgarian Soul.” How important is it for you to be a cultural ambassador for your country?
Extremely important! With this CD, I wanted to show what kind of music we have, because so few people even know where Bulgaria is. They have no idea about the richness of Bulgarian culture, about its enormous history. Because of the Iron Curtain, there was hardly any cultural exchange between Bulgaria and the world. This music is beautiful and full of longing, just like the people. The Bulgarian people can be cheerful but they have this underlying melancholy.
Tell me about your experience as a voice student.
One of the most important things I understood was [this]: there are no teachers in this world who can make a student perceive what technique means within two days! There are books and different theories, which indicate the same principles, but you have to discover it for yourself.
What is technique? You have to work with yourself, and with what you have, in a very detailed way. It has to do with intuition, talent, and intelligence. You have to think about it—not wait for a teacher to tell you everything, and suddenly, the next day, you think you know how to sing! There is nobody who can do that for you.
Of course, you have to believe in yourself, and have strong nerves. You have to work with different people, so you need to be flexible. What does the conductor want from you today? You should be able to adapt, but never ever change your technique. It’s a very delicate line.
In the beginning, I worked a lot, especially with my middle voice. I had very present high notes and low notes. The question was: Am I a soprano or a contralto? But mezzo was the perfect Fach in the end, because I could use both my vocal height and depth.
I was lucky that I only had one teacher. You shouldn’t change teachers all the time, anyway. The rest of my development I owe to the people I worked with: conductors and singers. They enriched my imagination and helped me discover what I can do with myself.
Did you ever follow a method, like Marchesi or Vaccai?
No. The most important thing is you have to get to know your voice exactly as it is. That means you have to sing on the bad days. The irony is, the voice is at is best when you don’t sing! There are so few perfect days! But that’s why you have technique and knowledge of breath support. Today there aren’t many singers who sing on the breath. Some sing naturally, and after 10 years, the voice gets tired and says: “Please help me!”
When you sing, your voice has a radiating energy that is almost palpable. Are you conscious of that?
Well, I try not to be. It is not a good idea to consciously think of putting energy in the voice. You can only sing with this energy if you have the Grundlage – the technical foundation. If you think of energy without foundation, you begin to scream. A singer has to project this energy; that is perhaps what gives singers their charisma, but that should not be associated with driving the voice and forcing it to the point that you can’t sing piano on the high notes. At the end of a performance, you should have the feeling that you can repeat the whole role.
Those are tricks of the trade, as I call them. The public doesn’t need to know them. Actually, piano is not just there for effect; it’s a mechanism of protection for the voice. To go into piano and mezzo-forte protects the voice from giving too much, so that when you do need to give, you have a whole reservoir of voice and you don’t get tired.
I don’t understand those who need to sing loud all the time. Your voice is your treasure; you have to protect it! For example, I don’t sing everyday. I’m happy when I don’t have to sing. When you are a Profi [professional singer], you really need the rest, because silence is the best medicine for the voice.
How do you prepare a role?
I listen to a CD. It doesn’t matter who sings, because I just want to hear the orchestra. The orchestras have become so big today, that people hardly sing piano anymore. So the size of the orchestras takes away this beautiful mechanism of protection, of having the option to sing softly! Every piano becomes a mezzo-forte. And you see triple piano in the score, but you can’t sing it like that, because the orchestras are like huge avalanches over your
voice!
Some orchestras are tuned higher, as you know. In Vienna, I sound like a soprano, because it’s almost a whole note higher! My body feels differently too when I perform in Vienna or in Salzburg. Today, between pleasing the conductors, and the stage directors, whoever survives, survives!
That’s why I listen to the orchestra first, so I can tell if the role is for me or not. I usually learn very fast. I don’t have time to give two years to studying a role.
Then, once I have learned everything, it’s crucial for me to work with the stage director. In Europe, there is much emphasis on acting. In America, it’s a bit easier for us because the performance follows a more classical line. But the Regie [stage direction] in Europe demands that we work with every detail, every word.Then I develop the notes, the expression, and everything comes together. It’s not easy but, in the end, it’s important to have fun with it too.
Tell me about singing one of your specialties: Bellini.
Bellini has the most difficult repertoire for mezzos, because you are very exposed. Overall, in Bel Canto, I combine two techniques: from singing Rossini and Mozart. For Bellini, just like in Mozart, you need a good ensemble. You can use the same technique as for Rossini, in the coloratura, and the same principles of legato from Mozart. I always say: if you can sing Mozart, you can sing anything, because Mozart demands that you have control over your voice.
We all have our weak spots in a certain part of the voice, that’s normal, but the problem comes when you have absolutely no control over the voice. Control includes being able to handle the weak spots. If I lose control, it’s over! The emotion rises so high, on top of the technical challenges, that you can’t let go, even for a second.
The stage takes a lot out of you too. That’s why technique is so important in keeping a balance between emotion and singing. When the emotion is at a high level, I have to think: What do I do? How do I breathe? That’s like math, almost. You can’t just let go completely on the stage; you have to be aware of what is going on. For that you have to work the technical aspects of a part early enough, so that you don’t come to the rehearsals and try it out on stage, because the stage will surprise you every time.
At every performance, I have to deal with different things. I have to adapt to everything without panicking. That has been my experience in my 14 years of career.
I think everyone will tell you, regardless of how many years they have sung: in the beginning, everything is easier. Maybe you can let go completely and be guided by emotion. When you’re young, you’re full of energy and confidence, so you can do everything. That’s why singers often accept roles they shouldn’t sing, because at a young age, the voice works, no matter how they use it, and that gives them confidence. But it can be dangerous.
When you record, what are your priorities?
Not to be boring. Not just to sing clean in perfect style and intonation. I strive to be as close to the reality of a performance as possible; to be believable and to tell stories with each Lieder or aria. I’m aware that the listener gets bored after the third aria, in a solo recording.
This danger comes also from the fact that we must repeat so much during the recording. Sometimes, it’s a wonderful take for me, but a violin comes in too late or too early, so I have to sing it again, and the right expression can be lost. I learned a lot from recordings about what I can or can’t do. We don’t really hear ourselves as singers. It was a good school.
Do you find the right emotion in the text, the music, or both?
Both. If I believe in the words, in the story I’m telling, then the public will believe it too. But to me, the music is the strongest. As I said before, I think like an instrumentalist. They have to tell a story without words.
Also, I believe singers should learn early to maintain their freedom in singing. A rest means something too. We feel the music, breathe it in and then we sing it. If you observe pianists, or violinists, they use the rests to take a breath in, to feel the coming phrase, and then they play. They don’t rush rests. That applies to singing; you can’t just pant your way through an aria, it’s a process that needs freedom. Some conductors really don’t understand that.
How do you deal with such conductors?
That’s a good topic for discussion! I say, in general, when you are young, you have to adapt. When you already have a name, the conductors have to be more careful with you! You should be able to ask diplomatically: can we do it this way or that way? You don’t gain anything by being arrogant. We all work together and we should have more respect for one another. Then it works wonderfully.
No one should be extreme in imposing his or her point of view. It’s the same with stage directors. You have to be able to communicate. No one is perfect in this world. As a singer, no matter how intuitive I am, I don’t always make the best dramatic choices, and I need good suggestions. We can’t see ourselves, our acting, our bodies.
What is important for you when you sing in concert?
That is a more intimate experience. It shows more of the singer. It’s important to keep a balance between the acting and that intimate connection.
Would you teach?
I have already, a little bit. I like it. It makes you less selfish. Maybe I’ll teach more in the future.
Do you have any hobbies?
I have no time. My son is 5 years old! And this profession takes up everything. Yet you have to be able to enjoy life too, as much as possible.
What roles do you envision for yourself in 10 years?
I don’t really know. I would say fate has led me to so many different roles, so I trust in the natural flow of things. Perhaps I will do more French Bel Canto repertoire, and some Verdi, like Eboli for example.
I can’t really think 10 years from now; living in the moment is too important. But I keep in mind not to strain the voice, so that I will be able to sing 10 years from now!
I’m really enjoying the present and I’m happy with my repertoire. There’s always a new opera coming my way: Rosenkavalier, Ariodante; every year, there is something else. One day it will be Carmen, but I would certainly love to sing Eboli. That role can’t come too late, because there is some coloratura in the “Veil Song”; you still have to be able to do that. But I think mezzos have enough repertoire. We’re not always the title role, but throughout all these secondary roles, we can develop slowly and have a long career.
Would you speak technically for a moment and share some of your principles with our readers?
My principles? Practice, practice, practice!
Well… we take in air and are like a reservoir of breath. Then when I sing, the air comes out and then back in. I have the feeling that everything turns around; it recycles. It’s not that you actually breathe in while you sing, but the air comes back in somehow, indirectly. The way I say that sounds impossible, but I have to think that way, so that at the end of a phrase, I still have air.
It took me three years, working every day for one hour, to understand that principle. When I first tried it, I would breathe in and try to speak while continuing to breathe in, but I wasn’t letting any air out, so I would choke and turn red.
The idea of breathing in while you sing is more a metaphor to help you circulate the air so that nothing gets stuck. Like in swimming, the breath must be deep and last a long time, if you let it out slowly. Then the support is the sensation you feel—please excuse me for this imagery—when you sit on the toilet and push! It gets the lower abdomen involved. However, in doing that, you have to be careful not to strain the throat; the throat must stay free.
Then there is the question of taking time to understand everything. I saw this in Italy: After just two years of study, they throw the students on the stage; everything is so fast! Directors or conductors pick young good-looking singers with a role in mind, but no one really thinks about the voice, or the long-term effects on the voice. These beginners do not know the tricks needed to protect the voice. You don’t sing directly, on the voice, which is the tendency for young singers. It’s hard to put into words. It’s like David Copperfield! You have to use these tricks—like going into piano, mezzo-forte, mesa di voce, so that you can sing for many years without hurting yourself.
There is another problem too. When you have a naturally good voice but you sing without knowing what you are doing, you sing without protection. The psychological pressure on you will get stronger and stronger, and there is nothing to lean on, because sooner or later the instinctive knowledge will need technical support. From your first student days, you have to make sure you understand what the teacher is asking you to do, not just say “yes” and imagine it will come by itself. It won’t.
I always taped my lesson and listened to it, then I discussed with my teacher. Then, I would listen to Giulietta Simionato, and I understood that mezzos should not darken their voices on purpose, because that only shortens the range, and then they can only sing “Habanera”! I understood I had to sing schlank [slender]. This vocal slenderness helps to cut through the orchestra. You have to show your colors without artificially darkening. The richness and darkness in the voice comes with age and experience, but they should come naturally.
Any words of advice for young singers?
To believe, to keep working and thinking: What more can I do? How can I be better? This profession requires a lot of discipline, patience, strength, and good nerves. It’s never easy. It’s hard in the beginning when you’re fighting to get work. Later, when you get work, it doesn’t get easier, because you want more. Even when you are well known, it’s far from being simple, because you have to keep proving that you can maintain that level. The public expects you to be better every time. That kind of pressure applies to all professions I think; the higher you are, the bigger the expectations. So, you have to know what you are getting into as a singer and be prepared to fight.
On the other hand, don’t lose your sense of play, of fun, and don’t live only for this profession. Yes, singers are more or less egocentric; they have to be, because this profession takes everything, but they have to know other things too, and try to enjoy life. And one last piece of advice: you have to develop what you have. You should never imitate; just use your “material,” explore your own characteristics, develop your qualities, and don’t try to sound like anyone else. You have to simply be yourself!
