Happy endings are not the rule in opera. Usually,
someone dies. José Carreras, who sings in Davies
Symphony Hall next Sunday, has played hundreds
of death scenes onstage. But his heroic refusal to do
so in real life has resulted in a happy ending.
The brilliant Spanish tenor was told in 1987 that he
had leukemia and that his chances of survival were
slim. He was 40 years old. His illness seemed an
affront to the natural order, striking down one of the
world's most beloved singers in his youthful prime.
The music world went into premature mourning. In
Verona, a production of "La Traviata" was
dedicated to him, complete with a moment of
silence. Record companies rushed plans for
memorial issues of his best-loved performances.
Carreras then did the almost impossible. He
triumphed over the disease and returned to the
stage in 1989 -- a fairy-tale comeback in his native
Barcelona that has been followed by several
memorable appearances, as well as by the
incomparable series of Three Tenors concerts with
his colleagues Placido Domingo and Luciano
Pavarotti.
Carreras' first American concert was in Seattle,
home of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research
Center, where the singer's life was saved after
painful bone-marrow transplants and debilitating
radiotherapy. Since then, Carreras has been
devoting much of his time and his music to raising
money to help others afflicted with leukemia.
Now, as before, the Carreras sound is sweet and
instantly recognizable. He has a dark timbre,
especially in the middle voice, that suggests heroic
weight without losing the flexibility of lighter voices.
He is what used to be called a spinto, an all-but-lost
vocal category that is ideal for Verdi roles. It is not
a large voice: His sound is closer to that of a cello
than a trumpet.
His vocal gifts were refined in three very busy
seasons in the early 1970s with the San Francisco
Opera and the New York City Opera, a time the
tenor recalls as an invalu able experience.
International fame came with Franco Zeffirelli's
production of "La Boheme" for La Scala, which
toured the world in 1976 and led to the tenor's
major engagements in London's Covent Garden,
Vienna State Opera and the Met.
His move into heavier roles, under the tutelage of
Herbert von Karajan, met with surprise and not a
little critical hostility. Yet his musical honesty -- not
to mention his burnished timbre -- have proved
disarming. No, this is not the voice that immediately
comes to mind for Radames or Don Carlo. But
listeners' knowledge and love of Verdi has only
been deepened by Carreras' forays into those roles.
His recorded legacy is extensive. His first studio
opera recording, made in New York in his
sophomore year at City Opera in 1972, is Rossini's
comic "La pietra del paragone." Never one to take
bootleg pirates to court, Carreras has been
captured live more than most contemporary artists,
resulting in one of the best- documented operatic
careers in history. The unauthorized live recordings,
from his historic U.S. recital debut in Carmel to the
series of comeback concerts in 1989-90, as well as
the Tokyo "Traviata" with Renata Scotto and
several Met pirates that are hard to find outside
Europe, are the objects of cult adoration. His studio
recordings round out a portrait of one of the
century's most exciting singers. Here are 10
favorites, a sampling of greatness on record.
-- Donizetti: "Lucia di Lammermoor" (Philips).
Carreras is always at his best singing opposite his
compatriot Montserrat Caballe, and this 1977
recording of an opera he has sung since the
beginning of his career is a real treasure. From
Edgardo's impetuous entrance, "Lucia, perdona . .
. ," right through the heartbreaking "Tu che a Dio
spiegasti l'ali," this is quintessential Carreras.
-- Donizetti: "L'Elisir d'Amore" (Philips). Another
early role, one he sang in San Francisco in 1975
and had almost abandoned by 1985 when he made
this surprise recording with a radiant Katia
Ricciarelli. Carreras here is Pavarotti's only serious
challenger on records as Nemorino, the country
bumpkin with the voice of gold.
-- Giordano: "Andrea Chenier" (CBS-Sony). Eva
Marton was still in fine, steely voice when she was
cast opposite Carreras for Giordano's potboiler
about the French Revolution, and the pair's ascent
to the guillotine alone is worth the price of this set.
-- Mascagni: "Cavalleria Rusticana" and
Leoncavallo: "Pagliacci" (EMI). Veteran opera
lovers often compared early Carreras with the great
Giuseppe di Stefano, and these are the two operas
that justify the comparison. As both Turiddu and
Canio, the tenor is as devastat ing in his dramatic
honesty as he is incandescent in his singing. He is
paired with Caballe in one opera, Scotto in the
other, with Riccardo Muti conducting both. You
really can't go wrong with this set.
-- Massenet: "Werther" (Philips). It had to happen:
Carreras and Frederica von Stade are an ideal
vocal match, and this 1980 recording is
indispensable for fans of both. One might quibble
about the tenor's accent or his French style, but
there is no mistaking the truth of his emotional
portrayal of Goethe's tragic poet.
-- Offenbach: "La Perichole" (EMI). Carreras'
street singer, Piquillo, is a comic gem well worth
searching out, and there's a terrific vocal blend of
Carreras' honeyed tenor with Teresa Berganza's
lusty mezzo-soprano in this 1981 romp conducted
by Michel Plasson.
-- Puccini: "La Boheme" (Philips). There is no
sweeter Rodolfo on records: Not Domingo, not
Pavarotti, not even Bjoerling or Gigli. Puccini's
Bohemian poet in love is a role Carreras was born
to sing, and he sings it passionately in this 1979
Covent Garden recording conducted by Sir Colin
Davis.
-- Verdi: "Don Carlo" (EMI). How to choose a
single Carreras record ing of Verdi? The task is
difficult, but this 1978 "Don Carlo" with the Berlin
Philharmonic under the direction of von Karajan is a
landmark in the tenor's career and a staggering
achievement not only by Carreras in the title role but
also by Mirella Freni as Elisabetta, Piero
Cappuccilli as Rodrigo and Agnes Baltsa as the
Princess of Eboli. No one since Maria Callas risked
so much, or profited so much, by coming under von
Karajan's vocal tutelage: Carreras sings as if his life
depended on it, and the results are spectacular.
-- "José Carreras: First American Recital" and
"José Carreras in Recital: Return to the United
States, 1989" (Legato Classics). Carreras' first
American recital happened in Carmel on Oct. 14,
1975. His heroic comeback after conquering
leukemia was on May 4, 1989, in Seattle. Ed
Rosen's Legato Classics -- a private label to which
music history is much indebted -- captured both
live, and the two CDs are invaluable. One touching
moment among many is Bellini's "Vaga luna che
inargenti," which Carreras sings in both. The hues
are darker in the later concert, the radiant bloom at
the top miraculously the same and the phrasing a
lesson in bel canto for both the young tenor and the
veteran: legato, portamento and expression all used
with technical perfection and poetic discretion. The
words shape the music, and that music rings out in
full splendor. There is patience in the way he
communicates the story within each song, fervor in
every utterance. Then as now, there is only one
Carreras.
CARRERAS IN CONCERT
José Carreras performs a sold-out concert at 7:30
p.m. next Sunday at Davies Symphony Hall, 201
Van Ness Ave., San Francisco. Call (415)
864-6000.
Copyright © 1998 San Francisco Chronicle