Verdi Gives You Wings
The Vienna State Opera had already set its sights on her; what’s more, the first contract had already been signed. No wonder—after all, over the past few years, Anastasia Bartoli has captivated audiences with her expressive, richly colored voice and her wide tessitura, she had brought order to the international casting carousel—the Colbran soprano role as well as the Italian lyric-dramatic repertoire.
It’s no wonder that the young singer was taken under the wing from the very beginning by old masters such as Riccardo Muti and Zubin Mehta, among others. But then things moved even faster than planned here in Vienna: A colleague fell ill, and a quick phone call later, Anastasia Bartoli was already on the plane, to step in at the Haus am Ring in one of her signature roles, Verdi’s Lady Macbeth. The result: a jubilant audience and rave reviews, in which, for example, “a murderously good Anastasia Bartoli” or “wonderfully precise coloratura in the Brindisi, which flashed like a dagger in the sunlight, or the somber shades of her voice in the madness scene.” That was in October 2024. About two years later—in September and October— —her first regular run of performances in the same role at the Vienna State Opera.
Verdi roles occupy a central place in your wide-ranging repertoire. Was it the triumphant victory at the renowned “Voci Verdiane” competition in Busseto that led to this particular composer playing such a significant role in your singing career, or did you deliberately choose this competition because you or your teachers recognized that Verdi suits your voice well?
The decision to enter this competition was perhaps something like a twist of fate, an ideal astral conjunction, or something of that sort—in any case, not a conscious strategy. It is true, of course, that this first prize, in hindsight, also marked my first step in my career as an opera singer. But back then, immediately after the victory, I couldn’t imagine at all how things were supposed to proceed. I certainly didn’t know which direction to take in terms of my repertoire. Shortly before that, I had made my debut as Rosina at the small Teatro Ristori in Verona, as Santuzza in Lisbon, and as Fiordiligi in Lima. So, quite different roles, indeed. But then there was a rehearsal organized by Mutis’s wife, Cristina—and immediately afterward, still on the same day, Riccardo Muti asked me if I could imagine performing the Lady in Macbeth under his direction at the Tokyo Spring Festival. It will come as no surprise to you that I was momentarily taken aback: I, a young singer, had not yet sung a single complete Verdirole on stage. And then Lady Macbeth right off the bat!
But when someone like Riccardo Muti makes an offer like that… What can I say: I asked for a day to think it over, read through the role, assessed to what extent the important, challenging passages seemed vocally manageable for me, and then I was brave enough to say yes. Since the planned debut in 2020 had to be postponed by a year due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I had —a blessing in disguise—unexpectedly had plenty of time to study the role and was also able to realize just how well the part suited my voice, how similar it is, technically speaking and in terms of agility, to the later, more familiar dramatic Rossini roles. In any case, the Macbeth performances in Japan will soon lead to further Verdi roles such as Abigaille, Elvira in Ernani, Lucrezia Contarini in I due Foscari, Desdemona, or Odabella.
“Verdi, in a sense, puts the keys right in our hands—as singers—so we can soar like Superman or Superwoman and delight the audience with this wonderful music and all the emotions and situations it conveys.”
Is there anything typical in terms of vocal technique that all Verdi roles have in common? A Violetta and a Lady, for example, are two completely different worlds.
The answer is: no.
The roles in Primo Verdi’s that is, from Verdi’s early creative period, are, for example, something completely different from, say, Aida. But even within a single creative period, there are major differences. The aforementioned Contarini in I due Foscari and the Abigaille, which was composed around the same time, are definitely two different animals. In other words: Every Verdi role has different technical demands; each is unique in terms of expression and character, and therefore requires a different approach and interpretation in each case. And not every role suits a particular voice equally well. That’s precisely why I don’t want to be pigeonholed as a Verdi, Puccini, or Rossini singer, even though I do in fact sing numerous roles by those composers. One thing, however, can be said: No matter how difficult a Verdi part may be, it is always so perfectly written that I constantly feel as though I have the composer right there on stage, helping me.
I feel—I can’t explain it any other way—a kind of powerful energy that seems to carry me along. Verdi, in a way, puts the keys right in our hands—as singers—so we can rise to the level of Superman or Superwoman-like, and to enchant the audience with this wonderful music and all the emotions and situationssituations it conveys.
Back to Lady Macbeth: You didn’t mention earlier just how surprised you were when Muti offered you the role —an extremely challenging part that is usually played by older actresses.
That's true, but in the meantime, several years after my debut as a lady—and thus after just as many intense years in this magical world of opera— I understand why Muti came up with the idea of entrusting this role to a young singer: Because a young voice—provided the natural vocal prerequisites are in place— is truly better suited than an older one.
Let’s take a closer look at the role: Lady Macbeth fundamentally requires a dramatic soprano, but one with sufficient agility; then a richly colored lyric soprano; in addition, a soprano leggero for the Brindisi, and a mezzo-soprano for “La luce langue,” because the aria is so low. That makes for four different voices. If a singer possesses good technique, the necessary vocal material, and sufficient power and vocal volume, she will be able to master the role of the Lady quite well. After 30 years in the biz, however, a voice has inevitably changed—it’s become heavier, less flexible, and may even show some signs of wear and tear.
And then, of course, it is much more difficult to meet all the different challenges of the role equally well. The dramatic aspects may go smoothly, but the passages that require a light, agile soprano voice—as little as possible. I have made a strict agreement with myself: If one day—perhaps in ten or fifteen years—I can no longer perform the role optimally, I will give it up.
In addition to the Lady, her major roles also include Rossini’s exceptionally difficult Ermione and Abigaille. Is it possible to sing these characters in quick succession? Or do the demands on vocal technique differ so greatly from one another that you need enough time in between to adjust accordingly each time?
It’s true that, in terms of repertoire, I have a fairly broad range. And of course, it can happen that I have to switch very quickly from Puccini to Rossini or from Rossini to early Verdi. It’s not an ideal situation, but you learn how to handle it and prepare for all eventualities—just like an athlete in elite sports. And then a quick change in repertoire isn’t such a problem anymore. All I have to do is tell my body, the individual muscles of my vocal apparatus: “Attention, now we’re moving on to these or those technical requirements—get ready…”
But depending on the nature of the role, do you also need a way of warming up your voice that’s tailored to the part before a performance?
No, no … Over time, I’ve come to realize that, for me, in every repertoire, training vocal fluency, and agility is the best warm-up.
You also sing roles that are generally considered a rarity on international stages —such as the aforementioned Lucrezia Contarini. Do you learn such operas on request? Or have you already rehearsed these roles in advance?
In fact, time and again I’ve learned lines that I didn’t necessarily assume they might one day become a reality. Sometimes, however, it seems to me that I simply have to stage some rarely performed opera, in order to spark a future request for a performance. (laughs) And Lucrezia Contarini was, in a way, one such case. By the way, that’s a part that’s as fantastic as it is challenging. Perhaps the most difficult of all Verdi’s roles! Not least because, as a dramatic soprano, you also have to master the tessitura of a light soprano —very challenging, but I love it.
One last question: Why does one become a singer, despite all the expected hardships that this profession entails? Does a singer’s daily life actually live up to the expectations you had of it during your studies?
That’s a quick story. It’s no secret that I’m the daughter of Cecilia Gasdia, so I’ve been able to experience the life of a singer up close. That’s exactly why I initially wanted to forge my own path and became an artistic skydiver. But at age 23, I felt a kind of mystical calling and decided to study singing. So while some of my peers were already launching their careers, I was busy with vocal exercises. It wasn’t exactly fun, but I stuck with it. The rest is history.
What I hadn’t expected, however, was, on the one hand, the loneliness that comes with this profession, and, on the other hand, the fact that in 99 percent of performances, you don’t find the ideal conditions: Sometimes the acoustics of the venue aren’t good, sometimes there weren’t enough rehearsals, or it’s too hot, the air is too dry, or one is feeling under the weather—the obstacles in this regard are almost too numerous to count. Nevertheless, I would choose this very existence all over again. When you’re born for the stage, you simply can’t escape its call—and, I must emphasize, more than compensated for all the inconveniences by the many wonderful moments, which are also almost too numerous to count.