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Opera Canada, Jan/Feb2006 (Arthur Kaptainis)
Bred in the bone
Baritone Gerald Finley reflects on being a Canadian abroad
“That’s a tricky one,” Gerald Finley admits, in the midst of a post-Doctor Atomic vacation in his childhood Ottawa home. “I would never want to be considered too expensive an artist.” But the question needs to be asked. Is this leading Canadian baritone—Robert Oppenheimer last October in John Adams’ headline opera and Golaud this April in a Salzburg Festival production of Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande—too pricey for the houses of his native land?
Finley does not quite deny the theory. “Every company thinks artists are too expensive,” he says. But nor does he confirm it. There have been talks to bring him to the Opéra de Montréal as Don Giovanni in 2007 and to the Canadian Opera Company as Yevgeny Onegin in 2008. Neither contract got signed, although the obstacles appear to have been more a matter of scheduling than money. The 2008 COC run as Onegin needed to be reconciled with performances of the Tchaikovsky opera at the Royal Opera in London. Offers came too late, counter-offers were not accepted. “There are all these really frustrating circumstances,” Finley says.
Needless to say, there are many baritones who would love a little Finley-style frustration. Born in Montreal and raised in the Montreal suburb of Senneville and then Ottawa, Finley has lived in England for 25 years. He is now unambiguously an international artist with an enviable list of engagements to match. Yet a case could be made that he remains staunchly Canadian in exile. And Canadian is not a bad thing for a baritone to be. Our culture is usefully central. While the mainstay of Finely’ s repertoire will always be Mozart, his aptitude for English opera and song (established by Songs of Travel, a sterling CBC Records program of Vaughan Williams and company) is undeniable. His musical upbringing as an Anglican chorister, at St. Matthew’s Church in Ottawa under Brian Law, is not unrelated to this aptitude. It prepared him on some levels for Glyndebourne, where he met his wife, the mezzo-soprano Louise Winter (they were cast as the lovers Nancy and Sid in Britten’s Albert Herring). They and their two sons make their home in the East Sussex village of Crowhurst, not far from the site of the Battle of Hastings.
Living on the other side of the pond does have its effect. Our interview includes at least one “rather” pronounced “rawther.” Still, as a North American, Finley can deal with the character quirks and distinctly American predicament of Robert Oppenheimer, leader of the Manhattan Project and the principal figure in Adams’ ballyhooed blockbuster for San Francisco Opera. High-lying, and entailing a solid hour on stage in the first act alone, this role is, in Finley’s judgement, the most difficult he has ever sung. He is booked to repeat it in Chicago, the Netherlands and at the Metropolitan Opera. Quelle frustration!
Another distinctly American project is a recently issued recital CD of songs by Charles Ives. Childhood summer vacations in Vermont were helpful background for this. And the patriotic and religious sentiments that permeate Ives’ idiom were not unfamiliar. To the list of sympathies the baritone feels with the composer, Finley adds, “Having strong relations with his father” and “and having a sensible insurance job while letting his creativity flow.”
Just as this Canadian artist can shape-shift with minimal effort into English and American personas, he can look forward to singing a language he speaks when he takes on Debussy’s opera. Again, there is documentary proof of Finley’s fine French on CBC Records: an award-winning cycle of songs by Henri Duparc. Of course, the role of Golaud comes with daunting psychological complexities, regardless of language. “Is he angry, is he desperately sad, is he lonely? Where does the jealousy come from? He is clearly a kind man, but he reacts to his son so violently. I love that element of it.”
Finley concedes he will be a young-sounding Golaud, considering the bass-inflected history of the part. At 45, he finds himself at a crossroads, entering what he calls his “copper years.” He could easily maintain a full-throttle career of Mozart, Adams and song recitals, or he could move into the 19th-century Italian and German realms. He has made his first foray into Verdi, as Germont in a Covent Garden performance of La traviata, in the winter of 2004-05. “It was a good touchstone, because it made me realize that I’ve got to make sure my technique is always at the forefront of care,” he says. Careful as that assessment sounds, Germont might not mark the limit. “In Verdi, there are roles that are not Rigoletto, not di Luna,” he reminds us. Which does he have in mind? “Maybe Boccanegra,” he says. Switching composers, he poses some rhetorical questions: “Is Scarpia possible? Wolfram? Would I ever get to Beckmesser and Hans Sachs? I don’t know. There are still these potential excitements.”
Wherever the repertoire road takes him—and even if it continues to circumvent the opera houses of Canada—Finley feels confident he will remain Canadian. “I’m an international person now. I live in England and work all over the world. I go to wonderful places and meet amazing people. It’s a big melting pot, really. But I still feel that the things that make me what I am derive from my growing up here. A lot of my world view is based on what I learned as a Canadian—as a Canadian student of the world.”