Elīna Garanča’s autobiography, published in German when she was just 45, is entitled Between Worlds. The title describes the dichotomy between her artistic life, as one of the most successful opera singers of her generation, and her private life, as close to everyday normality as possible. It also highlights the journey from Latvia, the small country where she was born, into the wider world and its great opera stages, where she is enjoying a splendid career at the very top of the operatic firmament. Possessor of one of the most beautiful lyric-dramatic mezzo soprano voices of our day, as well as looks to kill for and a remarkable dramatic gift, Garanča’s portrayals are seldom less than superlative.

Garanča first came to international attention at the 2001 Cardiff Singer of the World competition. She gave a dazzling performance at the semifinals, but she was not declared the winner, causing an outcry from the public and opera professionals alike. She was soon engaged by the Vienna State Opera and rose to the top steadily, with wisely planned choices of repertoire.

A special stage chemistry: As Dalila at the Metropolitan Opera in New York in 2018, with Roberto Alagna as Samson © KEN HOWARD

Our meeting took place during rehearsals for Richard Jones’ production of Samson et Dalila which has just closed its run at the Royal Opera House in London. Having been spellbound by her portrayal of the Biblical temptress in the Metropolitan Opera’s sumptuous production, screened in cinemas worldwide in the Live from the Met series, I felt sure we were in for a treat, and I was eager to hear her thoughts about this controversial character, suspended between love and revenge, duty and betrayal.

‘When I am thinking about taking on a new role, the mezzo repertoire offers mainly villains – so-called,’ Garanča tells me. ‘I am fascinated by them. I am more alive when I play villains and find them much more interesting than the more gentle characters. They need more subtlety to put across, because the evilness, the anger, erupts at key moments. On the whole, mezzos have iconic roles – most of them femmes fatales like Carmen, Eboli or Dalila, all operatic cliché roles which carry a lot of baggage. Many great singers from the past have shown how they are supposed to be, so and when you come to them you are “marked”.’

Garanča’s early career was built on the great Mozart and bel canto mezzo repertoire, so the transition to the Romantic repertoire has presented some vocal challenges: ‘Speaking purely vocally, believe it or not Dalila is lower than Trovatore’s gypsy Azucena! And of course younger. It’s all question of vocal colours. French villainesses such as Dalila are helped by French music, because there is a lightness about it, a lot of pianos and pianissimos. You don’t have to produce a huge volume of sound all the time, you can use those dynamic shadings for expressiveness.’

Femme fatale: As Dalila in Richard Jones’ new production at the Royal Opera House, London © CLIVE BARDA

How has her approach to the role of Dalila changed since her 2018 appearance at The Met, when the production was streamed live to cinemas all over the world? ‘I would say that my portrayal has probably calmed down a bit. At the beginning it was permeated by a more aggressive mood. Now it is profounder, more passionate and overwhelming. Of course, her music is so erotic and voluptuous that I am convinced that the love bond between her and Samson was strong. For me the key moment is not the famous aria “Mon coeur s’ouvre a ta voix”, but just before that, when she sings of how wonderful it was when they were in love, where she speaks of the God of Love, and of how she would like to return to those times. But she is surrounded by all those people, the religious leaders, the politicos, all telling her what she is supposed to do. She wishes there were no religions, no Gods, no Philistines, no Hebrews – no one except the love of two people. But of course, this is not possible.

‘I have grown to love Dalila more than when I first tackled her – though I can’t say she is one of my favourite characters. Your interpretation of these big roles changes a lot, depending on who is singing the other main roles opposite you – their temperament and their physicality. You know, I am a very physical actor. I like to lean on my partners, to hug and be hugged. When there is passion and physicality between protagonists on stage – obviously with all the precautions necessary so that they feel comfortable – that physicality is an advantage for the production.’

At the Met, there was very special stage chemistry between her and Roberto Alagna, also her partner in the Met’s Carmen. ‘Of course, a lot also depends on the director and what message he wishes to put across. But the essence of this opera is the basic conflict between love and betrayal, between the love of a couple, the love of God and the love of one’s people. So no matter how you choose to set it, it the concept is always the same. It’s about obligation and rejection.’

As a strong yet sensual Carmen at the Met © KEN HOWARD

Garanča has some of the most famous French roles in the repertoire under her belt: Carmen, Dalila, Charlotte in Massenet’s Werther. Although the French language is very challenging for many non-native singers, she greatly enjoys singing French music – works by Massenet, Gounod and Saint-Saëns, with their sweet or bitter-sweet melodies and understated drama. ‘The music is created with a certain lightness of touch and even when you have a drama going on, you don’t burn all your bridges.’

Having greatly admired her portrayals of Carmen and Charlotte, I wondered why she had not attempted to perform on stage the great mezzo role of Didon in Berlioz’s epic Les Troyens. Berlioz, Garanča says, is different from other French repertoire: ‘The orchestration is heavy and the music most dramatic. Yet it doesn’t require the full chesty tone you need in Italian opera. I cancelled a stage product of Les Troyens because I got very ill. Now I don’t believe in the character of Didon enough to really want to do it. I find it hard to justify her actions, her self-annihilation for a man, and to summon the emotions that could identify with such an attitude.’

Motherhood is another factor that has a significant influence in the roles to which Garanča is drawn. She has two daughters with her husband, Gibraltarian conductor Karel Mark Chichon.

‘Yes, being a mother has definitely changed the way I approach roles. Absolutely! As a mother you see the value of life and what is really important. At my age, you begin to negotiate certain things with life. Acting is acting, but for me it is also a very personal thing. I cannot just walk onstage and do something I don’t believe in. For instance, at some point after my children were born, I couldn’t see myself as a boy in all those trouser roles anymore. There are certain roles, such as Octavian in Der Rosenkavalier or the quartet in Così fan tutte when you have to be relatively young and, ideally, surrounded by young people for the requisite freshness to come across. When I sang Octavian I had a great affection for my Marschallins and Sophies, who also became my friends. But now, at 45, I have said goodbye to those roles.’

Garanča’s career began with Mozart. She made her landmark debut at the 2003 Salzburg Festival as Annio in La clemenza di Tito. Her Covent Garden debut in 2007 was as Sesto in the same opera. Her impressive technique is firmly rooted in bel canto, which is invaluable when singing any repertoire – including verismo and Wagner. Her bel canto roles include Rosina in Barbiere, the title role in La Cenerentola, Romeo in I Capuleti e i Montecchi, Adalgisa in Norma, Giovanna Seymour in Anna Bolena, and Sara in Roberto Devereux. ‘Having now sung Verdi, verismo and Wagner, I can assure you that bel canto is the most complex style. You have to know so many different techniques: how to float the sound, how to sing diminuendos, coloraturas, all with a very light orchestral accompaniment, which leaves you completely exposed. You have to do trills, you have to do quick jumps, you cannot slide anything, Everything has to be as precise as instrumental technique.

As Princess Eboli in Don Carlos at the Paris Opera: ‘It’s a role where you have to be the aggressor’ © AGATHE POUPENEY

‘I love a journey through music, a beginning and an end. What we’re doing as conductors is focusing on the big picture as well as the detail, coming in and out like a lens’

‘In this respect, Wagner is very “horizontal”. You need a different degree of stamina, as well as a different philosophy for Wagner. And for Verdi and Puccini you need the wisdom of a voice that is juicy. But I stress that bel canto is the most complex and keeps your voice very fit. While in Puccini and verismo you can cheat with a portamento, in bel canto you have to be spot on, the coloratura has to be heard, the timing has to be very precise, because sometimes all you have under you is a basic da-di-dum, dum, dum. You are alone, whereas in Puccini and verismo you have a carpet of sound under you.’

Among Garanča’s heavier Italian roles, which she has performed with great distinction, is Princess Eboli in Verdi’s Don Carlos, which she first sang in Paris in 2017 in a star studded production by Krzysztof Warlikowsky, a role in which, she declared, there is ‘a lot more bel canto than verismo. Eboli is a very interesting character because she is a woman, a beautiful woman, a very powerful woman in a man’s world, because she knows how to play men’s games. If you go back in history to those times, your position in court was often about survival or death. In such surroundings, Eboli becomes interesting because she knows that in that context you can’t afford to be a victim in any circumstances. You have to be the aggressor! Vocally you have the first very, very challenging aria and then the incredible richness of the last aria, “O don fatale”, with so many gear changes.’

Garanča’s ultimate dream role is Amneris, the jealous and obdurate Egyptian princess in Verdi’s Aida, coming next January to the Vienna State Opera with Jonas Kaufmann as Radamès. ‘I think this role just has everything. She is a very powerful woman but very weak when it comes to the strongest feeling in the world: love. With her desperation and her being in love, if she gets offended she just becomes a wild animal. So showing all these character differences is very, very exciting – and I just love the music!’ Other Verdi roles that appeal to her are Azucena in Trovatore and Mistress Quickly in Falstaff: ‘If you could play her with a twist, giving her a lot of sensuality, having fun with Falstaff behind the scenes, she would become quite an interesting character, not just a comic caricature. I’m also very excited about Judith in Bluebeard’s Castle at the Teatro San Carlo in 2024 and Venus in Tannhäuser at the Salzburg Easter Festival next year – and coming back to Kundry in Parsifal.’

‘I like to lean on my partners, to hug and be hugged’:As Santuzza in Cavalleria Rusticana at the Royal Opera House © CATHERINE ASHMORE

One of her favourite roles so far is Santuzza in Cavalleria Rusticana, which she first sang at the Paris Opera in 2018. In earlier days, she had also sung Lola, her debut role at the Vienna State Opera, ‘and I will probably end my career with Mama Lucia!’

How did she approach those two roles, so widely different both vocally and emotionally? ‘Lola is a role you take on relatively early in your career while Santuzza needs all the stamina and experience you have mustered over the years, plus everything you have learnt about style: how to approach different kinds of music and, most important, how to protect your voice in verismo: a technical thing that has to do with your breathing, how to relax your muscles, how to stretch your muscles, how to attack certain notes, how to phrase, when and how to do portamentos, where to stand back a bit and where to push.

‘Cavalleria is one hour and 15 minutes long and for 75 minutes you are singing non stop. And it keeps getting higher and higher. For a mezzo in particular, there are some challenging moments in the duet, because it goes very high. But for me, the duet and the Easter Music, which requires a mezzo’s richness to the voice, are among the most satisfying and enjoyable music I sing. From the very beginning of my studies, I have loved this opera! I can also relate to the character of Santuzza. I am a shy person and, in many respects, a humble person. And to anyone who might question this statement, I always say: “Elīna is very shy; Garanča – that’s another issue altogether!” I understand the humiliation you feel when you are wronged. Sometimes you have to fight for your rights, you have to be true to yourself and your principles, because that’s what makes you sleep well at night and what makes you a morally correct person.’

I wondered what Garanča’s views are about the role of the director in today’s operatic world. ‘It depends! There are some who seek to impose their own vision, or sometimes create their own version of an opera, without a deep knowledge of the piece. They are definitely bad news! On the other hand, I have been very lucky and worked with directors who have broadened my horizons. They don’t necessarily have to be operatic directors par excellence, it can be someone who comes from the straight theatre or from films, but understands music.

‘When you do opera a lot, you adopt an “operatic language” of gestures and postures which directors who come from outside this world want you to get rid of. For instance Kirill Serebrennikov, who directed me in Parsifal at the Vienna State Opera. He works in theatre and films and was not guided by the traditions of operatic performance. I was very grateful to work with him. He turned every traditional thing upside down and for me, doing a Wagnerian role for the first time, working in this way was a very big and important experience.’

As Kundry in Parsifal at the Vienna State Opera: ‘Working with director Kirill Serebrennikov was a very big and important experience’ © MICHAEL PÖHN

Serebrennikov’s controversial production of Parsifal – set in a contemporary prison – was widely condemned. Garanča, however, was hailed by many as the best Kundry they had ever heard. ‘My transition into the Wagnerian repertoire had to be in a role as important as Kundry, in order to challenge myself and discover if I can do it. Her story is very interesting: she undergoes tremendous changes in the course of the opera. The Kundry of the end is not the Kundry we meet at the beginning and certainly not the Kundry of Act II. And this vision, this transition from questioning her past, hatred of her past, from resignation and obligation to freedom, is fascinating to portray. Vocally, it is challenging and physically it requires great stamina, like running a marathon, because in the final scene you have to convey all this in a few bars. You have to find the key in each phrase, because each phrase is written in a way that, as with Dalila, can be interpreted differently.’

After a raft of critically acclaimed performances and operatic recordings, Garanča’s superb solo albums can be seen as’ autobiographical’ in a sense, because they offer an honest and revealing glimpse into her state of mind and inner truth at a particular point in time. ‘All my albums are mirrors of my state of mind at a particular moment. The album titled Sol y Vida happened at the time we were buying our house in Spain, and I was steeped in its Mediterranean atmosphere with the sun, the scents etc. Then, when my mother was very ill and we knew the moment was coming and eventually she passed away, I was recording the album, Meditation, which focused on loss – all the different aspects of loss.’

Garanča’s mother Anita had been a crucial figure in her life-support system and in the development of her career. (Her father, Jānis Garančs, was a choral director.) Anita, a well-respected singer herself, was her daughter’s first teacher, often taking her along to rehearsals, which meant that Elīna as a child was steeped in music for a very long time before she went to the Latvian Academy of Music in Riga. Although initially she was against her daughter’s decision to become a singer, once the decision was taken, Anita became a staunch and proud supporter throughout her life. The devastation that Elīna Garanča experienced when her mother died in 2015 lasted a long time. ‘Then gradually, I realised I had to come out of this, and that life has to continue. I have a husband and two children, all healthy thankfully, so life just has to go on. As a mother you have a responsibility to ensure that it does.’

Does she consider herself a good mother? ‘I try to be. But what is a good mother? Is there a formula by which one can determine that? I always think one can be better and dedicate more time to the kids and in that sense, I am not good enough. But you know, I had to grow up very quickly in my own childhood as my parents travelled a lot, and I want to teach my kids how to be independent, take their life in their own hands, do something and be someone. I try to teach them things about independence as a woman, which I think are necessary for a woman – especially now, at times such as ours. I am a very practical and rational person at home and deal with all aspects of establishing some discipline, especially as they have a Daddy who melts at their very sight! He is the fun person and I am the one who steps in and ruins it all. Haha! Still, they maintain that I am “the best Mummy in the world”.’

Despite her avowed practical and logical nature, Garanča has a profound spirituality and has talked about certain moments onstage when she feels suspended in the universe, with no ceiling above and no floor below – just space around her. ‘This happens every time the energy of a singer meets and merges with the energy of the audience and you have this complete fusion. At that moment, nobody dares to breathe or move in case you break the spell.’ It happened to Garanča a few years ago during the ‘Laudate Dominum’ in Mozart’s Vespers in Salzburg. ‘Mozart is very pure and the melody just carries the orchestra and becomes very esoteric. At that point, the melody, sung by the soprano voice – which in itself is very beautiful – just took off, and it was a deeply spiritual experience for me, just listening from the side; as was the Verdi Requiem at La Scala with Barenboim and also with Chailly and Muti. It also happened with Anna Bolena in Vienna and Carmen and Rosenkavalier at the Met. I have been very lucky to experience more than one magical Sternstunde as the Germans call it, in my career.’