"You can really fly in French music"

I think it's very important for us singers to achieve the freedom on stage that comes so naturally to actors. Of course it takes time. But as soon as you really understand your own voice, as soon as you know how your own technique works, you can be much more relaxed on stage and devote yourself much more to a character. For me, performance and vocal technique always belong together. That's opera, that's musical theater! We are not fish who just open and close our mouths. Whether a role is big or small, I want to explore every aspect of a character and show it to the audience. And that's where all my energy goes.

For me, Leïla is vocally ideal and at the same time a real challenge - this tension makes the role appealing. What fascinates me most, however, is the transformation she undergoes and the way Bizet allows the voice to participate in it.
At the beginning, the part is written in an almost coloratura-like manner: very high, very light, very delicate. Then it gradually becomes more lyrical. And towards the end, Bizet is already writing towards Carmen, and the voice needs much more dramatic power. Leïla grows in the course of the opera. In the end, she is so proud and so strong. She chooses love, even in the face of death.

Yes, absolutely. At the beginning of the opera, she really believes that she can never be happy in this very human form of love - living together with a man, in a partnership. She chooses God. She chooses to be a priestess. I think that's a very hard decision. And yet Bizet writes these extraordinary duets for Leïla and Nadir, and in them you can feel her trying to resist him as their love grows stronger and stronger. That is what makes this whole development so moving. She starts out as a young woman committed to her faith and becomes someone who finds the strength to commit to her love. It's so romantic and so beautiful that it almost makes me cry sometimes when I sing it.

In general, I think it's our job as artists to make the audience cry, not ourselves. But sometimes it does happen. And it's not crying in the literal sense. It's more like a moment of ecstasy, almost like crying with a smile. For me, that's the magic of the theater, and I think many singers who really love opera live for that feeling on stage.

I believe that singers, like artists in general, can often be very sensitive, very empathetic people. They see suffering, they feel the pain caused by social injustice or the loss of a loved one. They understand emptiness, they understand when people have complex feelings and they have the impulse to help. If you have this humanity within you, then it can become part of the art and you should bring it to the stage. The great thing about music is that it constantly invites you to search for new colors, new breath, new sounds that can open up another world. And it is fascinating that Bizet had already thought all this through in his score. All we have to do is listen, feel it and then put something of ourselves into the role. That's how our empathy finds a way to the audience.

For me, French is the language of love. The sound of this language is simply perfect for emotion. The language itself is so soft. Technically, it allows for something very lyrical, very sensitive, whereas in Italian the vowels are more open and often create a more powerful sound. In French, on the other hand, you can really fly. On the first day of rehearsals, the director asked us to sit down and read the libretto together. And at that moment, I suddenly realized how few words there actually are in this opera and that there is a good reason for that. It's less about words and more about color, emotion and breath. That's what makes French opera so unique for me.

Yes, that's true. This aria is all about coloratura technique, and the sound has to remain very clean. I'm a lyric soprano, so it's not the most natural approach for my voice.
Everything has to sound light, young and very virtuosic. It's a bit like Violetta's first big scene, "Sempre libera", in La traviata: it's very high and requires real brilliance. The real challenge for me is to place the voice just right there, whereas later in the opera much more lyrical power is required, also because the orchestra becomes fuller.

Yes, I believe that this is one of the opera's treasures. The characters connect through their voices, through something inner, through the sound of their souls. It's not just about seeing each other, but also about hearing each other. This gives their love a purity all of its own. In this production, I feel a very strong connection to my wonderful colleagues Juan Diego Flórez and Ludovic Tézier, and hopefully this will give our performance something very real and passionate. Daniele Rustioni is also an exceptional musician and I am very happy to be able to work with all of them. So in this constellation, it's really not difficult to fall in love with a voice.

I think that's one of the most important questions today. So many young people go on Instagram or YouTube and look for an icon. They want to imitate someone, follow a trend, a face, a style. But I think we in the arts need to tell a different story: Every person is different, and everyone has to find out who he or she really is. That is also Leïla's path. In the end, she understands who she is. She is not just an icon, not just a fashion diva, not just an image created for others. She is a woman who wants to love and be happy. I think that goes far beyond opera. People should ask themselves what they really love instead of just following what others say they want. What do I want from life? It's short. In the end, it's about finding out what you really want and what you really need.