It Was Just One of Those Things: How I Fell for Frederica von Stade

Von Stade in Jake Heggie's "Three Decembers" Img. courtesy San Francisco Opera/Kristen Loken

You never forget your first love.

Mine was Frederica von Stade.

My interest in opera started abruptly with a chance T.V. viewing of a Maria Callas biography, but it didn’t fully blossom into a love affair until I saw von Stade.

After my initial encounter with La Divina (as Callas is often called), I slowly began listening to more and more opera on recordings, but as a starving student, my opportunities to attend were few and far between .

I lurked on internet boards for guidance on what to listen to, but was a bit frustrated that the most enthusiastic recommendations were for singers long-since dead or retired—the first-loves of operaphiles older and far more experienced than I. As wonderful as these singers were, and as much as I delighted in discovering the work of Tebaldi, Zeani and Sutherland (to name a few), I longed to discover great artists I could actually experience live in the opera house and concert hall.

Fortunately, someone—whose name I have sadly forgotten, but to whom I shall forever be grateful—recommended the 1973 Glyndebourne Festival video of Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro. The entire cast was wonderful, and the production charming, but it was von Stade who captivated me, singing the role of Cherubino, the 14-year old page who is discovering the glories and heartaches of love:

Perfection, as far as I was concerned.

I looked for and listened to more of her work—Massenet’s Cendrillon and Werther; Rossini’s Otello, Canteloube’s Songs of the Auvergne, Mozart’s Idomeneo—each piece I listened to touched me in a thousand small ways. I had found the voice that defined for me what I love so about this music: the infinite hues and tones that reflect the breadth of human experience, combined with a beauty that lifts me almost to heaven.

Ever since, I have made it a point to hear von Stade whenever I can, and I am fortunate to live near her home, as she has appeared frequently with the San Francisco Opera, and seems never to say “no” to a local benefit.

I enjoy other singers, of course, but in different ways. There are many great voices to be enjoyed, but too often I feel slightly removed from the experience—there are notes, beautifully and sensitively sung, and performances ably acted—but something keeps me just outside the wondrous place where I feel part of the music. (This is not necessarily a shortcoming of the singer, I hasten to add; it’s part of the subjective experience of art—what speaks to one leaves another cold.)

Von Stade is the whole enchilada for me.

It’s not just the voice, of course. Von Stade’s impeccable musicianship, charm, sensitivity and the humanity that infuses her performances were revelations that make my own soul sing with joy.

And joy, I think, is the key.

Even in serious roles, it is obvious that Ms. von Stade is having a great time. She obviously gets as much pleasure as she gives the audience, and there is nothing quite like that wonderful mutual energy and joy when it is exchanged between a performer and audience.

It is interesting that two of the artists most responsible for bringing me to opera—Callas and von Stade—represent two dramatically different types of opera singer. Callas was the ultimate diva; everything in her life seemed to reflect the high drama of her art, and singing ultimately became a tremendous burden for her. Von Stade is the anti-diva, legendarily generous, no-fuss, no feuds, all the drama saved for the stage. Singing, whether grand opera or comic pastiche, is a joy for her.

Today is  her 65th birthday, and Ms. Von Stade has announced her retirement from the opera stage, and has embarked on a series of “farewell” concerts. I have seen her on the opera stage for the last time. The final curtain call for her last opera, Jake Heggie’s Three Decembers, was bittersweet—like saying goodbye to a very happy love-affair you know cannot last.

My opera life has come full-circle. It seems I have become the older operaphile, destined to relive in my heart (and on the Internet) the glory days of my favorite singers.

Thank you, dear, dear Flicka.

If you’d like to see more of von Stade, check out my von Stade playlist on YouTube.