Q & A: Ramón Tebar on his Metropolitan Opera Debut & Conducting ‘La Bohème’
By Francisco Salazar(Credit: Maritere Casillas Rice)
Ramón Tebar recently made his Metropolitan Opera debut conducting “La Bohème,” a work he knows all too well. But this debut did not come as a surprise or as a rising star conductor. He has been working for years building his resume at some of the greatest houses in the world while also building up Opera Naples as the Music Director and performing as an accompanist to some of the greatest Opera singers in the world.
Over the years Tebar has conducted at the Teatro Colón, Opera Hong Kong, Opera Naples, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis, Duetsche Oper Berlin, Gran Teatre del Liceu, Teatro Real de Madrid, and the Wiener Staatsoper. His Metropolitan Opera debut in away was the culmination of many years of work.
Tebar spoke to OperaWire about his Met debut, “La Bohème” and the importance of educating and creating new audiences.
OperaWire: You just made your Metropolitan Opera conducting “La Bohème.” How has the experience been?
Ramón Tebar: Well, the experience has truly been magnificent. There are 13 performances in total. For me, this is a unique experience as an artist and as an orchestra conductor. When you hear about the Metropolitan Opera, you know it’s one of the pinnacles of opera, a musical temple where I think we all aspire to make music someday.
So, at this point in my career, I see it primarily as the culmination of many years of work, artistic discipline, study, and practical experience. Take “La Bohème,” for example: It’s one of the operas I’ve conducted most often. I’ve conducted it in much smaller regional theaters in Italy, then moved on to larger opera houses across Europe, including Hamburg and Vienna. Finally, in the United States, I conducted it at the San Francisco Opera before eventually arriving at the Met.
As I was saying, this feels like the culmination of many years of studying this particular work and of the natural evolution of my artistic career. It’s about reaching this place with many years of artistic experience, study, and knowledge behind me. I felt that support, especially on the first day I stepped into the orchestra pit. I felt ready, as if to say, “Well, now is the time to make music in this place.”
Perhaps I could have done the job technically as a conductor earlier in my career, but now I feel I have the depth and maturity to be at this important stage in my career. I believe this is the ideal moment to take on this challenge.
OW: And it must be amazing to do your debut in such an iconic production?
RT: Exactly, it is an iconic production, a truly beautiful visual monument that you can appreciate when you see it from the audience. The first time I saw it was on video, while I was in Spain. It is so large, so monumental. I’m thinking especially of the second Act. The first and fourth acts are obviously more intimate, but even so, those enormous distances before reaching this point made me think at first, “Wow, this is going to overcome a limitation.” Because with a theater this large, and a production on such a grand scale, how is the relationship between the orchestra pit and the orchestra going to work? But ultimately, I believe that a conductor’s work should not change in artistic terms. What is surprising is that the visual effect Zeffirelli creates with this sense of monumentality and these vast dimensions is a stroke of genius. He has managed to make the orchestra pit seem much less distant and imposing than it actually appears to the audience. That also helps acoustically, in terms of the balance between the orchestra and the singers. In fact, I would even say that it seems to act like an acoustic screen, helping project the voice outward. That is one of the things that has impressed me most about this production: it seems so enormous, yet it has been designed in such an intelligent way.
So you feel—or at least, I certainly have—that you are much closer to the singers in this production than in other productions, despite this optical effect.
OW: How has it been to work with two very different casts, something that is more frequent in Europe but new to New York?
RT: In Europe, this is perhaps done more often, partly because productions sometimes run for much longer. But here, in a work like “La Bohème,” which is in the repertoire of so many singers, it is still a challenge. After all, we are rehearsing and I am conducting singers whose voices can be diametrically opposed to one another—not just in terms of voice type, but also in their interpretation of the character, even when they are playing the same role.
This can make the rehearsal process more complicated. One Mimì, for example, might have a more intimate, introverted character, while another might want to express the drama in a completely different way.
I think what matters for a conductor—and this is where the experience each of us brings into play—is having worked with so many different singers that you have enough resources at your disposal, and above all, the flexibility to adapt. I believe flexibility is extremely important when it comes to approaching the music and adapting it to the singer’s interpretation.
Obviously, a conductor must have a very clear vision of what they want: their interpretation of the score, the colors, the nuances, the dynamics, and the tempi. But at the same time, they must never forget the importance of flexibility. This may seem like something we should take for granted, but I believe it is essential in these situations, especially when you are working with multiple casts and different combinations of singers. The tempi that work for one voice, and the amount of time and space a tenor needs, can be very different from what another tenor requires. One tenor might need a brisker, faster tempo, while another might need things to be much more expansive. Of course, if a conductor is not flexible in this respect, they will not be able to help either singer.
Ultimately, what we want—and this is why opera is such a complete art form—is to unify our vision without betraying the essence of the opera itself. In this case, that means remaining faithful to “La Bohème,” to the libretto, and to Puccini’s music, while working within the characteristics of the instruments at our disposal, whether that means the orchestra, the chorus, or, in this case, the soloists. We must try to adapt things as well as possible so that each singer can give their very best.
OW: You have a piano background. How does that inform this?
RT: I am a pianist. From a very young age, I had the opportunity to work with many singers, some of whom are legends of the operatic world. One of the first singers I worked with was none other than Montserrat Caballé. Later, I worked with Teresa Berganza and Plácido Domingo.
I am speaking mainly about the Spanish singers, as they were the first ones I came into contact with. There were also Leo Nucci, Sherrill Milnes, and Renata Scotto. I had a professional relationship with Renata Scotto that lasted 20 years.
What they taught me, and what I learned from them, was precisely that an artist can be great while holding interpretations of the same work that are sometimes almost diametrically opposed.
Having experienced these singers as a pianist, taught me the importance of flexibility.
That is a lesson I have never forgotten. When I began my career as a conductor, I carried that flexibility with me, and it has always remained at the forefront of my mind. A conductor must have a clear vision, but must always remain flexible, because they have to work with the vocal resources available to them in each cast.
And I think this is perhaps what I always look for most in any production I attend.
OW: How is the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra different from other orchestras?
So sometimes, as a conductor, it can be difficult to change certain things because particular approaches to that repertoire are so deeply ingrained.
But the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, like very few other orchestras—for example, I’ve experienced this in Vienna as well, with the Vienna Philharmonic, which is another orchestra of a very similar kind—has that same ability to listen and respond.
It’s an orchestra that is accustomed not only to listening, but also to reading the conductor’s gestures and adapting with flexibility.
If we consider that “La Bohème” has been performed 1,500 times throughout the Metropolitan Opera’s history, it is clearly one of the most frequently performed operas in its repertoire and has a long tradition at the Met. After all, it has been conducted here by figures such as Toscanini, who conducted its premiere and studied the work with Puccini himself, as well as conductors like Carlos Kleiber, who also made his debut with “La Bohème.”
Given this orchestra’s history and tradition, one might initially think—and I certainly did—“My goodness, they must have their own established tempi and traditions by now. And how do you change that?”
My experience has been that, as soon as I started working with them, I realized that, of course, they know their repertoire inside out. But at the same time, when they recognize a conductor who knows the work in depth—and I’ve been studying “La Bohème” for 30 years, it was one of the first operas I played on the piano and later conducted—I think they recognize when an artist truly knows the work. And then they watch, listen, and follow.
They listen to the singers, respond to the conductor’s gestures, and remain flexible to an almost astonishing degree.
For example, I’ve tried to emphasize the contrasts in the score, particularly the dynamics, from the fortes to, above all, the piano and pianissimo passages that are so important in Puccini. This is a work that requires a great deal of intimacy.
Think, for instance, of the endings of the first and fourth Acts, and the extraordinarily soft pianissimo passages we’ve managed to draw from the orchestra pit. There have been moments that have literally given me goosebumps. That is the greatness of this opera house and of this particular orchestra.
OW: I know there was a cast change before the production began. When a change like that happens suddenly, how do you adjust and adapt?
RT: Well, indeed, you spend several weeks rehearsing, trying to internalize a particular singer’s phrasing, colors, vocal weight, and voice. And then, suddenly, at the last minute, that singer falls ill. The whole house of cards, so to speak, comes tumbling down. Those are moments of pure adrenaline.
Take Freddie de Tommaso, for example. He was singing in “Macbeth” and stepped in for Stephen Costello at the very last minute.
That’s where the flexibility and experience we were discussing earlier come into play. With experience, and having conducted “La Bohème” with dozens and dozens of tenors, you learn when a tenor needs to take a breath, when a phrase needs to be extended, or when you need to hold a fermata a little longer. Freddie, too, is someone who has sung “La Bohème” many times. In this case, we had no rehearsals whatsoever.
Fortunately, he and I had worked together on “La Bohème” in Hamburg two years ago. But in those two years, he has performed “La Bohème” many times with other conductors, and I’ve conducted it many times with other tenors.
So you don’t necessarily remember every detail, either. You don’t remember, “Wasn’t this the place where you wanted me to wait for you, or where you wanted me to go faster?” So it’s like doing the opera all over again.
