'I’m part of a growing trend of singers who are carving their own niche in the industry' | Melinda Hughes on injury, comedy and loneliness in opera
Melinda Hughes
Monday, November 4, 2024
Melinda Hughes shares the journey from spinal injury to beginning her work as a successful operatic comedian
Clemenzia Von Trunksale, the archetypal parody of the opera Diva was born out of years of touring with opera companies, staying in stately homes and encountering eccentrics, both on- and off-stage. A hybrid of Dame Edna Everage and Victor Borge, battle axe Clemenzia’s mission is to spread the joy of opera. She adamantly believes that everyone should be as moved to tears by the overture of La Traviata or the quartet in Fidelio as she is.
It’s not the first time I had dabbled with comedy character. When Donald Trump was President, I did a Melania impersonation, complete with Melania’s Lament, a sung fantasy about the myriad of ways she could bump off her husband. She was part of an Edinburgh Fringe show in 2019 which had lots of success.
I came quite late to comedy as I had been a full-time opera singer until in 2005 when I prolapsed two discs in my neck. I was in unspeakable pain and stage work suddenly proved difficult and scary. Once a fearless stage animal, I was depressed and grieving the loss of a treasured career. I missed the camaraderie, the sound of an orchestra tuning up, wonderful costumes and adrenaline rush of being inside the music. But I had to make a living, so I turned to reviewing and took a job in arts admin. I never stopped singing. I simply looked for creative avenues which were less physically challenging.
My love of Weimar cabaret led me to record two albums on the Nimbus Label with pianist and comedian Jeremy Limb. We wrote and performed satirical songs as modern-day replies, covering pretty much any topic imaginable. We did five seasons at the Edinburgh Fringe and even worked with the late Barry Humphries for a BBC Radio 4 programme. Many interesting opportunities arose; one of them an opera comedy gala with Kit Hesketh-Harvey at the Holders Festival in Barbados, an island I fell in love with, so I was overjoyed to be offered the role of artistic director of a festival. Then covid happened and I got stranded. There are worse places on which to be locked down than the Caribbean and I made the most of my time, taking comedy writing courses, learning the ukulele, and posting online videos. This is when Clemenzia really took shape.
'I believe comedy is an untapped route to attract new people to classical music.'
Inspired by soprano and comedian Anna Russell who recorded the famous ‘breakdown of The Ring of the Nibelungs’ and ‘How to write your own Gilbert & Sullivan Opera’ I developed an operatic character which pulled tropes from the opera world but also poked fun at a particular strata of society; Clemenzia had been 'released' from her contract on a cruise ship staying with millionaires on the west coast. Despite her seemingly glamorous career, even she has to make a living when singing work is thin on the ground, so her cousin at Nepotism Employment Inc gets her a part-time job answering the phone at Buckingham Palace. This backstory gives so much scope for political satire. I had already toyed with the character in our song I’m going to meet Prince Harry. Cowardesque in style, I get drunk at Kensington Palace and throw up over Prince Harry, dashing my dream of marrying the world’s most eligible bachelor.
Over the past few years my neck issues have settled. I still take singing lessons and my technique is better than it ever was. I often perform on the concert platform and this year has been my busiest yet. I’d love to be back on the opera stage but as any female singer of a certain age will confirm, it’s very hard to get auditions and restart a career.
I may be romanticising my years on tour. Clemenzia certainly does. Sometimes the mask will slip and she’ll divulge that in reality, there’s plenty of shared damp dressing rooms, clogged toilets and late-night journeys home with only a Ginsters pasty from a service station to tide you over. It’s a lonely profession too. When I was Andre Rieu’s soloist for four years, we were on the road non-stop. Many singers find the isolation and discipline to protect la voce tedious, yet to step out on stage as Madame Butterfly, Violetta or Aida is the ultimate pay-off and it is a drug of incomparable proportion.
I’m part of a growing trend of singers who are carving their own niche in the industry. I have set up my own festival in Barbados where I provide a platform for Bajan singers to receive coaching and to perform to large audiences. We also have famous comedians perform and hold workshops for local talent. Comedy has now become an important part of my life and I’m in good company when I think of the comedians who have expressed a love for opera; Rowan Atkinson, Barry Humphries, Morecombe & Wise, French & Saunders, Chris Addison, Bill Bailey, Dudley Moore and Harry Enfield. Let’s not forget there are some fabulously funny opera singers; thank God for Nicky Spence and Wynne Evans who keep opera accessible on television. We are team players, we have a good sense of timing, a great sense of humour and our dressing room banter would make a grown man blush.
I believe comedy is an untapped route to attract new people to classical music. It should be explored more, particularly on radio. We’re all looking for ways to find new audiences. The opera world is in peril and the Arts Council England cuts still threaten us, so we must try any route we can to ensure its survival.
Melinda Hughes: Clemenzia’s Opera Box is at Brasserie Zedel at 7pm on 6 November brasseriezedel.com