I have a dear friend in London who, only on special occasions, uses the words "we love" to describe someone or something that reliably gives pleasure and a sense of comfortable intimacy as well as providing what the British refer to as “good value for money.” This is a lot to ask from one person or thing, but my friend Adam can say with certitude that “we love Maggie Smith” or “we love Assam tea” or “we love BBC Radio Four.” He is not appropriating the royal we (as Queen Victoria might have said, “We are not amused”) but says this with a sense of inclusiveness. These are pleasures best enjoyed when shared. So we can love listening to Maggie Smith on Radio Four while sipping Assam tea but only if we do it in someone’s company.
In the spirit of this particular formulation, let me say that we love Carol Vaness. The soprano from California, who was born on July 27, 1952, occupied a very special position during her singing career as an always exciting and engaging artist whose work was admired but not appreciated as fully as I think it should have been. She sang, wonderfully, many of the Mozart roles performed by Kiri Te Kanawa (born 1944) and Renée Fleming (1959). These include the da Ponte trio of Le Nozze di Figaro (as the Countess); Don Giovanni (as Donna Elvira and Donna Anna — Te Kanawa only sang Elvira) and Cosí fan tutte (as Fiordiligi). But Vaness did other roles in Mozart that her two colleagues did not approach. Anyone who saw her as Elettra in Idomeneo and as a fabulously manipulative and properly overwrought Vitellia in La Clemenza di Tito will never forget them. These were among the most thrilling operatic portrayals by any singer in the 1980s and '90s.
She had an innate excitement and a particular sound to her voice that I used to describe as “imperative.” To me, her characters always meant business, and they went after what they wanted. Even when the characters would fail to get their way (Elettra and Vitellia, but also Leonora in Il Trovatore and Tosca), it was not for lack of trying.
I have read, far too often, about this or that singer being the “next Callas.” That is a burden I would put on no one, as there was only one Maria Callas. But, if I were asked to say who continued in that line, the singers I could think of would be Shirley Verrett and Carol Vaness (and, in her own unique way, Tatiana Troyanos — there has never been a “next Troyanos”). Both Verrett and Vaness had beauty and feral grace on the stage. They acted splendidly but never overacted. Their singing was marked by excellent musicianship that was faithful to the score but also deeply personal. These were high-octane singers, full of combustive energy when required but also a womanly tenderness that made you not only love them but want to be loved by them.
I always hoped to see Vaness undertake Cherubini’s rarely performed Medea, a role Callas sang. It is high stakes bel canto invested in a character whose dramatic requirements make Norma seem like a docile maiden. The only singer I can think of today who follows in this line from Callas to Verrett and Vaness is the German-Greek soprano Anja Harteros, who would also be a thrilling Medea.
To get a sense of her performing style, watch the clip below of Vaness as Donna Anna with the much-missed Jerry Hadley as Don Ottavio. It is from the Met’s 1990 production of Don Giovanni by Franco Zeffirelli, a director who was highly influential in Maria Callas’s dramatic development and was inspired by big personalities. He put Vaness in a large costume that could not be easy to move in. One hand holds a large handkerchief, which limits her gestural possibilities. Therefore, the other hand takes on more importance, and she uses it brilliantly. The limitations imposed by the costuming (which I do not object to) required Vaness to do more with her face, her one free hand and, above all, her voice. The result is a sensational performance that brought down the house. I saw her do this several times, and it was always a highlight even in a night full of spectacular singing and acting.
This production, conducted by James Levine, had a golden-age cast that included Samuel Ramey as Don Giovanni, Ferruccio Furlanetto as Leporello, Dawn Upshaw as Zerlina and, in her Met debut, Karita Mattila as Donna Elvira. Interestingly, Vaness preferred the role of Elvira, whom she found much more complex.
In 1985, Vaness was the Countess in a new production by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle of Le Nozze di Figaro in which Kathleen Battle, the Susanna, famously became difficult and, shall we say, uncollegial. The cast included Frederica von Stade, Ruggero Raimondi and Thomas Allen and was conducted by James Levine. I am not here to rehash the backstage dramas that went on during the rehearsals and performances. But suffice it to say that the heart and soul of that production was Carol Vaness’s Countess. She was beautiful to see and hear, and audience members cared about her deeply. Despite all the sturm und drang, Vaness held the show together abetted by Raimondi, Allen and von Stade.
Te Kanawa, Vaness and Fleming all sang Handel. Vaness made her Met debut in January 1984 as Armida in the second cast of a tour-de-force production of Rinaldo. The first cast starred Marilyn Horne in the title role, Edda Moser as Armida, the sublime Benita Valente as Almirena and the show-stopping Met debut of Samuel Ramey as Argante. I went to all eight of the performances and could not get enough of them. The opera was conducted by Mario Bernardi and directed by the excellent Frank Corsaro. Rinaldo was the first Handel opera done at the Met and opened the door to more of his works at this opera house.
In November 1984, Vaness returned to the Met in a fabulous turn as the sexy and scheming Vitellia in La Clemenza di Tito opposite the spectacular Tatiana Troyanos as Sesto. In earlier performances of this opera, Troyanos dominated the stage for the simple reason that no one could match her blazing intensity. With the arrival of Vaness in a part originated by Renata Scotto (herself no shrinking violet!), Troyanos had someone to play off of, and they created remarkable heat and sparks that made this operaseria, often perceived of as dull, the most thrilling performance imaginable.
Two weeks later Vaness sang her first Met Fiordiligi in a production created for Te Kanawa. In “Come Scoglio,” even more than as Vitellia, Vaness plumbed a range of low notes that most of the other interpreters of this role could not achieve while at the same time producing soaring, secure high notes.
While Te Kanawa and Fleming progressed from their Mozart repertory to Strauss roles such as the Marschallin, Arabella and the Countess in Capriccio, Vaness took a different direction. She excelled in many Italian roles that required more spinto (oomph) than the Mozart and Strauss ladies. The only Verdi roles that all three did (splendidly) were Violetta in La Traviata and Desdemona in Otello. All appeared in the latter with Plácido Domingo, but it was Vaness who starred when the 1994 Elijah Moshinsky production at the Met premiered.
Among the other roles Vaness sang with distinction are the Amelias in Un Ballo in Maschera and Simon Boccanegra, Leonora in Il Trovatore, Elisabetta in Don Carlo, Rosalinde in Die Fledermaus, the four heroines in Les Contes d’Hoffmann, Manon, Manon Lescaut and Tosca.
Here was an artist who was grand — in the best sense — on the stage but usually self-effacing elsewhere, even if she clearly had strong points of view and imperative. She was a superb colleague who radiated positive energy and provided comfort and security for her fellow artists, even though she was anything but placid on the stage. Pavarotti wanted her as his Tosca for his farewell to opera in March 2004. She was beautiful and properly temperamental in the role, by turns jealous and loving with Mario Cavaradossi and intensely confrontational with powerful Scarpias such as Sherrill Milnes, James Morris and Samuel Ramey. I will always remember the genuine tenderness one could feel between Vaness and Pavarotti.
Since 2006, Vaness has been a professor of voice at the prestigious Jacobs School of Music at Indiana University. I hope her students realize how lucky they are.