Born in Munich, Jan Schmidt-Garré studied philosophy and directing at the HFF, learned how to conduct with Celibidache and, in addition to documentaries, also staged operas (most recently “Arabella” in Leipzig). In his latest work (produced by Marieke Schröder from Munich), Schmidt-Garré brings film and opera together again. In “Fuoco Sacro – Search for the Sacred Fire of Song” he introduces three singers who do justice to this bel canto idea of the leaping divine spark: Barbara Hannigan, Asmik Grigorian and Ermonela Jaho. Coming from three different cultures – Canada, Lithuania and Albania – they give their all on stage. Ermonela Jaho appears particularly unsparing in dealing with herself. Anyone who has seen her as Puccini’s sister Angelica, who in her monastic captivity receives the cold news of the death of her illegitimate child, or as the unhappily loving Madame Butterfly, knows what that means. A sea of tears in the audience.
SZ: When did you start singing?
Ermonela Jaho: First in the children’s choir. You must know I grew up in Albania. The country was totally isolated. My father was in the military. Not a good time.
Nevertheless, did you decide to make singing your profession?
Yes, and there was a music conservatory in Tirana. I wanted to audition there. But for that I also needed a piece from the romantic repertoire, and I didn’t have the slightest idea about the classical repertoire. So I went to the Tirana Opera for the first time with my eldest brother.
How old were you then?
Fourteen. The “Traviata” was given. I read through the program and thought to myself: Ok, interesting. listen. Albania was still a communist country then, you know, and the opera house was – well, in line with our bad image.
And then?
From the first note of the overture something happened to me. Let’s call it love at first sight. But it was more than that. I was spellbound throughout the opera. In the end I said to my brother: “I’m going to be an opera singer. And if I can’t sing this opera at least once in my life, then I’ll die.”
You did it.
Yes, and I’m so proud to say this: as I sit here before you, I’ve sung the Traviata 300 times on stage.
It probably wasn’t easy though.
When the regime collapsed, people left the country en masse. I was 18 years old when I came to Italy alone – with empty pockets and big dreams. I have done many jobs. Also as a nanny and in elderly care. I had already completed my training at the conservatory in Tirana, but people just kept staring at me: Excuse me? You come from Albania and you want to be something? opera singer?
Have you suffered from these prejudices?
I thought that was awful. And how often have I wished to come from a country that can look back on such a musical tradition as Italy or Germany. It wasn’t until much later that I realized that other countries are also struggling with their history, that every country has dark moments.
Why did you decide to work with Jan Schmidt-Garré?
He has a sensitivity that I trusted. He understands what’s going on on stage and what it takes to produce that. When I saw the film for the first time, I could hardly look (holds fingers in front of eyes): How do I look there! Oh god, what am I saying! But then it quickly became clear to me: That’s a good thing. In this world where everyone feels like a computer enhanced photo is all it takes for achievement and happiness, that honesty is important.
Ermonela Jaho after a performance of “La Traviata” in front of the curtain at the National Theater (Bavarian State Opera). The film “Fuoco Sacro” also features her death aria.
(Photo: Barnsteiner Film)
A countertenor once told me he hated it when a director made him sing shirtless. The whole world can then see what hard work he is doing while breathing. You sing with your bare soul, so to speak. But shouldn’t everything always look easy on stage?
But it’s not easy.
Ever wanted to just soak up the glitz of being a star on stage?
It might not be possible to be a singer entirely without this fascination. But fame doesn’t carry you. Knowing it gives you something back, something essential, that’s so much more. I tell my students that too.
In the film you can be seen before, during and after a “Traviata” performance in Munich – with a bad cold. Why are you doing this?
I’m glad that Jan included these sequences in the film. I had a real fever. But I still wanted to try. Maybe I hit a certain point with that, I thought to myself.
He visits you in the dressing room, you can be seen struggling for balance at a ball and you can hear your heavily husky voice. On stage, that seems to have blown away.
It’s a miracle. Like in a trance. But of course there is also hard work behind it. I try everything to stay out of my comfort zone. When you dare everything, you see the human soul in all its beauty. As a singer you then feel the connection with the audience.
Jan Schmidt-Garré calls this skipping of sparks “Fuoco Sacro”. Is this fire really holy, do you believe in God?
If you ask like that – there is probably a higher power. In any case, she accompanied me on this way to Italy.
When you sing all these death arias today, you seem lost in the truest sense of the world. Does it come full circle? 14-year-old Ermonela didn’t die, that’s why you keep dying on stage?
The Traviata is the fulfillment of a promise I made to myself. I also feel like a survivor as a singer. Opera became therapy for me. This role is a catharsis for me.
With what effect?
After 28 years in this career, I’m not about singing beautifully and immersing myself in a story for three hours. For me it is a spiritual experience. I know, I can scream, I can sing pianissimo, I can make sounds that frighten me. You have to go to these limits, to the pain, to connect with it deep inside.
Really, do you have to?
I know that’s not very intelligent. Not least because one would like this career to last a little longer. Still, it’s a necessity for my soul. I need this magic moment, I’m addicted to it.
Ermonela Jaho in the final scene of “Fuoco Sacro”: She follows an idea of the director and comments live what she thought and felt in a scene that she sang.
(Photo: Barnsteiner Film)
It seems like you reopen an old wound inside with every performance. Isn’t that cruel to yourself? No therapist should recommend dealing with a personal trauma in this way.
You’re right. I already know that there is still a lot that needs to be healed. But I’m learning. That’s why I like this film so much. He shows me what I’ve already done. I’m learning to love myself a little more. The pain gets less. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be singing comedies.
“Fuoco Sacro”, directed by Jan Schmidt-Garrécurrently in various Bavarian cinemas; Ermonela Jaho in “Madame Butterfly”, May 31, June 3 + 5, Bavarian State Opera