Jessica Duchen: 'La Stupenda', a voice as singular as Maria Callas

Covent Garden became Sutherland's artistic home and she was a key player in some of its biggest moments

Tuesday 12 October 2010 00:00 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Dame Joan Sutherland was the last of those larger-than-life sopranos whose artistry and personality were indivisible – instantly recognisable, entirely individual yet always serving the music and the drama to the ultimate degree.

You could no more mistake Sutherland's voice for another than you could Maria Callas's – high in timbre, yet without the "white" quality that often drains colour from that fach [vocal type], and carrying through an extraordinary range and magnitude.

Initially she had expected to become a mezzo like her mother, who was her first teacher. Instead, she evolved into a dramatic soprano whose malleable virtuosity allowed her to excel in the most demanding bel canto operas. It was Donizetti's most dramatic heroine, Lucia di Lammermoor, that came to be her signature role, catapulting her to fame in 1959 when she performed it at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, and subsequently in Paris. Few who heard her sing its famous "Mad Scene" would ever forget it.

She had worked her way up steadily via small solos in Mozart and rather bigger ones in Handel: her performance of the aria "Let the Bright Seraphim" from Samson caused a 10-minute ovation at Covent Garden in 1958, presaging the glory days of Sutherland as "La Stupenda" – the nickname awarded her in 1960 in response to her success in the same composer's Alcina.

It was an extraordinary journey for a woman who had given up a secretarial job in her native Australia in 1949 apparently hoping to sing the one thing she never became especially known for: Wagner. Her husband, the conductor Richard Bonynge, with whom she enjoyed a career-long artistic partnership, perceptively advised her to concentrate instead on the bel canto repertoire, which he was eager to reinvigorate. The couple, over the years, did exactly that.

Covent Garden became Sutherland's artistic home and she was a key player in some of its biggest moments: for instance, it was alongside her in La Fille du Régiment that Luciano Pavarotti made his name, singing Tonio with his nine top Cs. That opera's heroine, Marie, ideally suited Sutherland's down-to-earth personality and sense of humour. An imposing figure with bucketloads of charisma, she once joked: "It's not that I am so tall – it is that tenors are so small."

She made her last public appearance in 1990. The previous year she had been awarded the DBE; the following year came the Order of Merit. Her death marks the end of an operatic era.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in