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When
opera diva Renata Scotto walks into a room, she fills the
space with energy. No, not the haughty grandeur one would
expect from a prima donna of her worldwide fame. This beautiful,
petite whirlwind is warm and engaging, someone you want
to talk with for hours about her career as a famed singer,
prolific recording artist and recitalist; opera stage director;
and revered opera coach and teacher. You want to sit with
her by the Mediterranean, sipping vino and sharing the pasta
al pesto she loves to cook, absorbing the air of her native
land. You want to find out why she is who she is —
this daughter of a policeman and a seamstress from a provincial
seaside town on the Ligurian coast of Italy, who became
one of the most beloved sopranos and singing actresses of
her generation.
Better yet, you can sit with Madame Scotto right here in
White Plains, where she is the head teacher and coach of
her own monthlong academy, the Renata Scotto Opera Academy
at the Music Conservatory of Westchester.
She beams, she trills her rs. She charms, lacing her stories
with Italian, exclamations and emotion. She waves her hands;
like butterflies they punctuate the air, fluttering above
her. Madama Butterfly indeed: Like Puccini's heroine
whom she immortalized for years, Scotto offstage is the
epitome of grace and passion.
“I'm Italian. I have passion!” she exclaims,
sea-blue eyes lighting up. “In Liguria, all of my
people have it. It's determination.”
Was it this determination that helped a little girl from
a fishing village become La Diva Renata Scotto?
“Well, when I was four or five, I'd get on the
table, singing. And then I would go to be even higher, to
the balcony!” she smiles. “And when Mamma would
sew, she would sing. My mother never had a big voice, and
I would sing along with her. But what I wanted was to sing
loud. I think I was always a prima donna,” she says.
“As a child, I had so little that I wanted everything
when I grew up,” she wrote in her autobiography (with
Octavio Roca) Scotto: More Than a Diva. By 18, in 1952,
she made her operatic debut in her hometown, Savona, as
Violetta in Verdi's La Traviata. In 1953 Scotto made
her debut at La Scala in Milan. On September 3, 1957, she
became an international celebrity — at 23 years old
— after she replaced Maria Callas as Amina in Bellini's
La Sonnambula in Edinburgh. And so it began: Scotto's
half century of singing in the best international opera
houses, creating her place in music history as the master
of bel canto (think Verdi, Bellini) and verismo (like Puccini)
style of opera. Her most famous portrayals, including those
as a leading soprano at the Metropolitan Opera from 1967
to 1986, were as characters such as Cio-Cio-San (Madama
Butterfly), Mimi (La Bohème) and Lucia (Lucia di
Lammermoor).
Scotto's
claim to fame is her talent for making every word count.
“I'm an actress who sings, or a singer who acts,”
she explains.
“Renata believes deeply in sharing her gifts, her
insights and experience. She's devoted to continuing
the traditions of great singing and great music, teaching
young singers the art of singing. Her love for this artform,
her hard work and her contributions to its future are boundless.
Lucky for us,” says Metropolitan Opera star Deborah
Voigt.
Her present career as a teacher and director comes from
needing new challenges. “I take risks. I need them.”
This drive to keep opera at its highest level was the reason
behind creating her two-year-old Renata Scotto Opera Academy
at the Music Conservatory of Westchester, which counts Plácido
Domingo, Luciano Pavarotti, Marilyn Horne, Beverly Sills,
Deborah Voigt and James Levine among her artistic advisors.
And though Scotto teaches students one-on-one for the five-hour
day, monthlong session, she has hired talented vocal coaches:
former concert pianist Ken Noda and John Fisher, both of
the Metropolitan Opera; Cristina Stanescu of the Mannes
and Manhattan music schools; and Lynn Baker of the New York
City Opera. “It has to be a team,” Scotto stresses.
“It's never I am and I do.”
But there's no question that the students come to
the Academy for Scotto. This year, the 14 who were admitted
(from hundreds of applicants) are from France, Canada, Japan,
Russia, Finland, Korea, Romania and the United States. Ellie
Dehn, a 24-year-old student who must work on every facet
of operatic training – vocal, acting, auditioning,
presentation, technique, style and language – says:
“When you go to a typical conservatory, they teach
you to sing the notes, but you don't really get into
the guts. You can't do this without a master like
her. I mean, she recorded the role I'm singing with
Pavarotti. She doesn't need the score, she knows every
word from memory!” Indeed, it is astounding to hear
Scotto sing the male part in practice sessions with students,
from memory.
Between the Academy itself and the public's notice
of her protégées, Scotto “is really
putting the Music Conservatory of Westchester on the map.
It's like an Olympic training ground for singers,”
contends Laurence Gilgore, general director and principal
conductor of Connecticut Grand Opera and Orchestra, which
honored Scotto with a gala opening featuring her up-and-coming
student Eglise Gutierrez. “She's the only singer
of her generation who is as important as a teacher as she
is a singer.” Ken Noda also believes that Scotto “is
the only artist left who can teach authentic Italian style.”
Scotto
has trained students and opera stars alike since 1997 at
her academy in Albisola, Italy, and at her master classes
all over the world. And now, here she is in White Plains,
because of the Conservatory's stellar reputation and
facilities (founded in 1929, it is the oldest performing
arts institute and largest school of music in the county),
but also for its relative lack of pressure compared to New
York's music institutions. Another benefit: It puts
Scotto close to home in Armonk, and near her children (her
son Filippo, an artist manager, and daughter Laura, a businesswoman
and mother of Scotto's grandson, also live nearby).
“Singers come to me because they must understand what
really is the style of bel canto music, which is what they'll
most often have to face in their careers. I teach them that
you must sing as well as act—this is opera.”
And auditioning is so important, Scotto won't let
a student do so unless every aspect is perfect: “You
have to know how to audition, what to sing, how to cut the
hair … some just don't know how to dress. I'm
very difficult. But if I'm not difficult, somebody
else will be: They won't hire, you know?”
“If Renata doesn't think a singer has made progress
during the year, then she is very tough and doesn't
accept them the next year,” says Lisa Deutsch, executive
director of the Conservatory. As she wrote in her autobiography,
“a singer has to have the belief that [opera singing]
is indeed a great thing, that a voice is a great gift,”
so students must prove this in their work. If not? Say arrivaderci
to the chance to be at the Academy: Indeed, already two
singers have been asked to leave the program since its inception.
Scotto's
tough-love inspiration as a teacher is her own past. Having
had so much support throughout her life – from incredibly
demanding coaches and, most notably, from her husband, violinist
and former concertmaster of La Scala, Lorenzo Anselmi –
no doubt made her the demanding yet generous teacher she
is today.
“I had a coach in the beginning of my career, who
was so tough you cannot believe it. I was at La Scala, 19
years old. He'd make me cry, he'd make me sit
there for six hours and stay on one page, one page!”
I had three or four like this – Maestro Tonini, who
was Maria Callas's teacher as well, was one at the
beginning of my career and he was the best. I was very,
very lucky.”
But Scotto reveals that her husband of 40 years “was
the greatest part of my career. He was working with the
best singers and conductors at La Scala. And he said, ‘You
have to be better than them!' I mean, come on! But
then it becomes a habit, and this is the way [to greatness].
“And, as a teacher, I've seen many singers who
get impatient. And I say: ‘There are other jobs you
can do.' ” At the same time, she says, “I've
learned how to be a little bit of a psychologist. If a singer
is shy, you have to approach them smiling, but still be
tough. But some of them, you can really treat badly, and
they don't care. They want it that way!”
Important pointers on preparing nerves for a concert are
also a part of Scotto's teaching agenda at the Academy:
“First, you have to show how to relax, to do breathing
exercises, to concentrate — especially to get involved
not with the voice but with the character. ‘Who am
I? Why am I singing this aria?' ”
Scotto also guides her students away from one common, easy-learning
tool. “I don't want singers to listen to recordings.
They're just reading what was written and learning
what was sung. So it's easy to say ‘this is
what Renata Scotto did,' but what I did was me, my
personality, and you cannot copy! Yet students do use recordings
because it's too expensive to go to a coach.”
“Students on the thresholds of their career need a
voice teacher, a coach and management. They spend all their
time working on their voices, so they have no income,”
says Deutsch. For the most deserving, the Academy has a
scholarship program, which depends entirely on private donations.
Private funding also enables the Academy to offer the public
a chance to see a great opera star at work (with master
classes) and to see Scotto's students — future
greats — sing at the final concert, all at $10 a ticket.
Not every great artist can teach, which makes Scotto all
the more rare. “Some singers don't want to teach,”
she says. “It's a very difficult moment in life,
when you realize that age puts a limit on your voice and
career. But I love theatre, all aspects. I don't sing
anymore … okay!” She shrugs. “I can direct,
I can teach. So much I can give to the theatre.”
Along with teaching, Scotto has a major career as a stage
director, which began at the Met in 1986 with Madama Butterfly.
Since then, she has done two, sometimes three, productions
a year — including La Traviata at the New York City
Opera, televised on PBS, that earned her an Emmy Award for
Best Live Musical Event, and productions in Miami, Italy
and Chile, among other places. She is thrilled with her
most recent work with Norma in Helsinki. Next up: to Greece
in October for Lucia di Lammermoor.
Her love for every aspect of the theatre — not just
the music — is what draws Scotto. “The easiest
part is with the singers, because I know the music and the
opera. The singers trust me because I don't ask them
to do crazy things onstage.” But there are those prickly
professional divas, she admits: “Sometimes they think
they know everything. And then, you have to argue! Oh, men
are easier! I love men! Women are really more difficult.
And directing totally makes me nervous. I say, ‘My
God, am I right? Do I do something wrong?' You feel
the responsibility with the young singers, especially.”
At
the Conservatory's final student recital in June,
audience members could see that responsibility in full light,
center stage, with the astounding level of finesse the students
showed. And offstage a beautiful diva, their teacher, Madame
Scotto, sat front row and center, resplendent in a cream
gown. She closed her eyes, swayed with the music. A pained
expression crossed her face during poignant moments in an
aria; she clenched her fist, hunched forward in her seat,
silently mouthing the words along with her students. She
cheered, her eyes bright. Joy and pride escaped her lips
with bravo or brava. The students did their work. Bravi,
the crowd roared, giving a standing ovation to the students
— and to Madame Scotto, an artistic treasure, right
in our midst. |
