All good things

From Opera Now, August 2007

From early choral to Doctor Atomic and a craving for bel canto – Rosie Johnston traces the remarkable career of Gerald Finley

’The first solo part I had was at Glyndebourne,’ the Canadian – born bass-baritone Gerald Finley remembers. ‘It was Flora’s servant in La traviata. My line was ‘La cena e pronto’. I worked myself up into a total state, how important it was and how everyone was going to notice me. Then my breeches split. It taught me not to take myself too seriously, I suppose.’ Gerald Finley has come a long way from one-liners. With glowing plaudits from audiences and critics the world over, he maintains a sense of slightly bewildered gratitude that he could be enjoying such manifest rewards from a career that started in the soothing lap of early choral music. ‘I’ve come from the Roger Norrington, Trevor Pinnock, John Elliot Gardiner school. It was the early original instrument era, when sweet voices were being recorded and it wasn’t so demanding. It was a protective environment. I’ve been very lucky to have a career which has allowed my vocal apparatus to survive and grow.’ He is enjoying a cannon ball run of success with a growing roster of roles that transcends the bass-baritone definition. ‘One of my career challenges is to decide: am I a high baritone, a high lyric baritone, a dramatic baritone, or a bass with a good extension?’ His recent Yeletsky at the Royal Opera House (described as ‘immaculate’ by Rupert Christiansen, of the Daily Telegraph) showcased his effortless high notes; his Pere Germont in the 2005 Royal Opera revival of La Traviata was his first foray into the Verdian repertoire. ‘I would love to do some of the heavier, more dramatic roles,’ Finley says. ‘Maybe Hollander; even that scoundrel Scarpia. This is a part of the rep that I can’t just show up and do – it’s a hugely inspiring place to be.’

Finley’s vocal strengths lie in his unfailing pitch, the secure dark tones and easy higher register. He colours phrases with bolts of texture, conveying anger, lust and revenge in the measure of a bar, as his Count Almaviva in Le nozze di Figaro at the Royal Opera House showed last year. ‘Almaviva is such an outcast,’ Finley says, laughing. ‘But he has no idea. He shows up thinking “This is my opera; I’ve got everything sorted out. I’ll pack Figaro off, I’ve got Susanna next door, that Barbarina is a bit of alright and there’s going to be a damn good hunt!” This guy thinks he has it all. It’s wonderful to go in with a perfect sense of confidence and have it all unravel.’ His timing – both comic and sinister – was flawless. ‘I’ve been fortunate to be in the company of some fantastic singing actors. Tom Allen – my jaw was always open whenever I saw him on stage. Lillian Watson too – these are people who make the experience complete. Opera is the theatre; but there are some simple tips like risking silence. One thing that drives me to distraction is people who keep moving on stage.’ One senses frustration here, although he is too much of a gentleman to name names. One is immediately reminded of the huge difference in stage presence between him and Erwin Schrott, the restless, board-stalking Figaro of the same production. Finley has little time for ego; intolerance he shares with Royal Opera House Music Director Antonio Pappano. ‘With Tony, it’s all about the music. If he has any irritable moments it’s when egos are getting in the way, either from the singers or the orchestra or direction. He’ll say, “we’re not hearing the music here; someone’s embellishing,” or “you guys are just hacking away down there” (to the orchestra). He calls everyone on it; he is an incredible conductor. And he loves Sardinian wine!’

Audiences at Covent Garden clearly love Finley, although he is careful not to fall into clichés about his relationship with the house. ‘To call it a home of sorts would be creating too much of a cradle for me,’ he says. ‘It’s a familiarity, a sense of trust. I feel encompassed by my relationship with the Royal Opera, not overawed.’ Finley is an exciting artist, and a dependable one, according to the word on the street. ‘He always delivers,’ says a colleague. ‘But he knows about drama, about risk.’ A sort of operatic version of the Milk Tray man, perhaps? We get the chocolates, and he’ll happily throw himself off a cliff to get them to us.

His discography reflects a wide array of interests. Durufle, Blow, Blackford, Ives. ‘The chance to sing those melodies, to be a part of that huge ocean of harmony and dramatic wave is incredible. I love singing with choirs and orchestras. When I think about where I am, I think: what more could I want? I’m in the luxurious position of being able to say, OK, there’s new music being written, do I want to be a part of that?’

Finley is as much associated with contemporary music as he is with the corset and breeches world of Handel, Mozart and Tchaikovsky. He brought the role of J Robert Oppenheimer to life in John Adams’ Doctor Atomic, and will be reviving it in Chicago this year, and at the Met in 2008. ‘Oppenheimer was very passionate,’ Finley says. ‘When I was preparing for this role I read Baudelaire and walked in theJemez Mountains like he did. I got an immense feeling for this man who knew that what he was doing was either the saving or the destruction of the planet. He had an amazing relationship with his wife Kitty. I got to study all that and be a part of recreating it. It has been a privilege to work on so much contemporary rep, but when I do say Goodbye to Doctor Atomic I really want to do bel canto. Henry in Stuarda or Enrico in Lucia.’ Despite making a break for the steak in the operatic sandwich, Finley does not want to become self-important or grand. ‘Recently I was asked to do Falstaff,’ he laughs. ‘I thought, how dare they ask me to do Falstaff? But Gobbi did it at the age of 38. I thought, maybe this isn’t such a silly idea. Falstaff is right down the middle. He’s full of character, he has a lot of fun and I want to have fun in my career. Rigoletto is probably never going to be on the cards, but some of these other roles …

This summer, Finley will be making his debut in the Salzburg Festival as Count Almaviva. ‘It’s going to be interesting,’ he smiles. ‘We have to share the stage with a mime artist. But I’m at the stage now where I can take risks if the director wants it zany or brutal or different: Does singing in Salzburg hold any particular meaning for him? ‘Salzburg is the essence of Mozart music-making. The vibrancy and beauty of the surrounding countryside make it a dream destination for any singer. The chance to perform the Count in the Festival is one that I have hoped for as long as I have been a singer. The hills might not be alive, but I certainly will be during this summer’s performances.