BULLY'S RETURN

Opera, like any theatrical art form, delves deep into the emotional realm despite its outward specificity. It's a medium of intense passions, spanning the entire spectrum of human experience. In this world, the blood, sweat, and tears of creative individuals are intimately understood. Here, the struggles, agonies, and ecstasies of the creative process take centre stage. The audience connects most profoundly when they witness an artist's inner dialogue with their character, responding to the raw authenticity of the performance.

The conversation with Anton Verstandt, Honoured Artist of Azerbaijan and soloist at the Azerbaijan State Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre, was prompted not only by his triumphant return to his home stage but also by one of his most compelling portrayals to date.

"Act II. Scarpia's Scene - Tosca. Scarpia, Rome's ruthless chief of secret police, is consumed by his desire for this woman. Accustomed to always getting his way, he's determined to possess her through any means necessary, no matter how underhanded. Puccini employs an ingenious musical device here - a grace note leaping from a lower to a higher pitch. It's a surge of emotion, a crescendo of pressure, embodying the overpowering nature of Scarpia's desire. James Levine, the former principal conductor of the Metropolitan Opera, once remarked that at this moment, Scarpia's lust spirals out of control. His entire being teeters on the brink, driven by an all-consuming need to possess Tosca. And her response? A knife thrust, accompanied by the chilling proclamation: 'This is Tosca's kiss!'"

Anton Verstandt brought an electrifying magnetism to this complex character, whose very essence is woven into the fabric of Puccini's score. Opera aficionados, who form a significant portion of the audience, marvel at how he employs a rich tapestry of techniques to create an alluring yet villainous presence, seamlessly blending operatic direction with riveting dramatic performance.

Despite only two appearances in this role during the 2024 season, Anton has already claimed it as his own, etching his interpretation into the annals of operatic history with the enthusiastic endorsement of his admirers. In doing so, he's subtly shifted the spotlight away from his portrayal of Escamillo in Carmen, which had previously been his defining role in the public eye, even after undergoing significant directorial reinterpretation.

Yet, every time Anton Verstandt graces the stage - be it as Tomsky and Zlatogor in The Queen of Spades, Tonio in Pagliacci, or the Stepmother in Cinderella - it's a vivid illustration of the renowned Yelena Obraztsova's words: "Opera was never a challenge for me. Through it, I've experienced emotions that life itself has never offered. That's why wisdom came to me early - I've lived countless lives on that stage."

"Was the journey back to the stage a challenging one?"

"Absolutely. Those seven years were incredibly trying, particularly at the outset when I was unjustly denied the opportunity to perform on my home stage at the Opera and Ballet Theatre. Even those closest to me were unaware of the depth of my inner turmoil. I even grappled with depression... But let me be clear, I'm not seeking sympathy. Not at all. Only those who've walked a similar path can truly comprehend. I was 33 at the time - the prime of a vocalist's career. I should have been on stage, creating, pouring my all into performances. There were moments of doubt when I questioned my career choice, wondering if I should pursue a different path. I received offers, some quite lucrative, but they held no appeal for me. Even when my patience wore thin, I dug deep to find the strength to persevere, reminding myself that this too shall pass. These seven years have been a crucible, forging wisdom and reshaping my character. It's been a journey of profound experiences..."

"How did you advocate for your right to perform during that time?"

"Life sometimes presents us with impossible choices, where we must act for the well-being of those we cherish. Leaving the theatre was such a decision. I won't pretend I fully grasped the challenges that lay ahead. Yet, hope remained my constant companion, unwavering in its presence. Now, as I return to the stage, I recognise that these seven years, despite everything, have yielded their own rewards. You might say it was a period of self-discovery and growth. Today, nearly all my actions are more measured, more thoughtful, evolving without compromising my core values. While those seven years are irretrievable, at 41, I'm determined to make up for lost time and push beyond. What's more, the current management has enabled me to achieve more in less than a year than in the preceding decade. Take, for instance, the fulfilment of my long-held dream to portray Scarpia in Puccini's Tosca. I expressed this aspiration to the management, recognising its significance to me. I hope my performance has lived up to expectations."

"Why Scarpia?"

"There's a multitude of facets within me that resonate deeply with this character. But above all, I harbour a profound love for this role. I vividly recall my first encounter with this opera - I rose from my seat after the second act and left. For me, the opera reached its pinnacle with Scarpia's demise. Since that evening, I've been utterly captivated by this role. My personal playlist is dominated by the entire opera, which I listen to incessantly. In my view, Puccini's music stands as the epitome of brilliance. Its dramaturgical precision is unparalleled! Even without knowledge of Italian, the music itself narrates the unfolding scenes, conveying the essence of each interaction. This holds true for every opera by this genius composer. And Tosca? It's the crowning jewel. I've dedicated myself to studying every aspect of this work. I can even recite the approximate dates of the historical events that form its backdrop - June 14 to 17, 1800. The historical intricacies are so numerous that they warrant a separate, comprehensive study."

"Any standout moments?"

"Act II features several 'dialogues' between Tosca and Scarpia. In one, he pronounces the chilling sentence that her lover will face execution at dawn. This musical motif resurfaces in Act Three when Tosca speaks of Cavaradossi. The integration is seamless, organic. Tosca is akin to a string of pearls. Each bead - a musical phrase - is masterfully strung together by the composer, creating a magnificent piece of operatic jewellery. My admiration for it knows no bounds, and with each listen, I uncover new nuances. Naturally, I adore Cavaradossi's aria, but Scarpia's 'Ha più forte sapore' and 'Già, mi dicon venal', or even his grand entrance in Act I where you can sense the sheer power of his presence - it's simply irresistible! I must confess, even some of our female cast members admit to a fondness for Scarpia's role, both musically and in terms of character depth. There's a legend that Puccini wasn't particularly fond of baritones. However, in my opinion, he gifted them a magnificent opportunity in Tosca, providing limitless scope to showcase their full range of acting and vocal prowess."

"Do you find yourself transforming with each character?"

"Without a doubt! Take the new production of Carmen, for instance. Escamillo emerged as an entirely different entity, even to my eyes! The costume design, the staging - everything felt fresh. Although, I must make a candid admission: despite my deep love for opera, I don't particularly enjoy the role of the Toreador. This might seem paradoxical, given that it was my debut role and the one I'm most associated with. It's flattering, certainly, but the material has begun to feel somewhat stale to me."

"Is there an element of musical fatigue at play?"

"You know, sometimes I think the most exquisite music is silence. Given my profession, simply listening to music can be a challenge. The Toreador's role, for instance, I've studied to such an extent that you could wake me in the dead of night, point to any section, and I'd sing it with my eyes closed. Theatrically speaking, the part itself has become somewhat grating. The entourage 'plays' the King, while the Toreador's entrance, heralded by grandiose music, amounts to little more than striking poses as one crosses the stage. It's only in this new production that some dynamism has been introduced, allowing me to breathe new life into a character that had begun to feel tedious over the years. That said, I won't deny the thrill of 'projecting to the back row', so to speak. I'd like to emphasise again that for me, Bizet's Carmen remains a pivotal opera, one that drew me into this art form even before I fully grasped its emotional depth."

"What role do emotions play for an opera artist?"

"I'm an intensely emotional individual. For any artist, emotion is crucial, but for an opera performer, it's our lifeblood. Music is fundamentally about emotions; it's built upon them. And often, these emotions overwhelm you on stage. I recall a performance - before my seven-year hiatus - where I played the violent scene between Tonio and Nedda in Pagliacci. After leaving the stage, I was so overcome that a lump formed in my throat and tears welled up, beyond my control. The scene had pierced my very soul. And I had to return to the stage... Thankfully, this occurred after that particular episode. I shudder to think how I might have managed had the play continued in a different sequence. It was a stark reminder that emotions can be a double-edged sword. Yet, there's another facet to their influence... For instance, when the Opera Studio staged Norma, I portrayed Oroveso. The emotions I conjured helped me shed genuine tears during the scene where he sings of a father's love for his daughter. It's no secret that there are specific acting techniques for this, but I'll be honest - I thought of my late mother. These poignant reflections on parental love and the loss of my mother at a young age evoked the necessary emotional response, enriching the scene immeasurably."

"So, what does the stage mean to you?"

"I often echo the sentiments of my fellow performers, who've become dear friends. They frequently remind me of my own words: the stage is like an enormous aquarium where one feels incredibly at ease. It's a comfort found nowhere else. From a very young age, my personality drew me to the spotlight. Even at 18 months or two years old, I craved attention, particularly from the opposite sex, often through imitation or parody. My flair for acting was an outlet, a way to channel my restless energy. By 15 or 16, when faced with career choices, I knew with certainty that a conventional office job was 'not my calling'. I needed a space to truly live, not merely exist. Only the stage offers that. Looking back, I see how a higher power - call it the Almighty, God, or whatever name you prefer - guided me. Sometimes gently, sometimes with a firm push, sometimes willingly and other times reluctantly, but always towards this profession. It's here that I feel more self-assured than anywhere else, even my own home. I relish stepping onto the stage. I won't pretend otherwise - I strive to outperform everyone around me, to showcase my skills... There's an indescribable feeling when you're confident in your role, when you step into the bright lights knowing your part inside and out. I love catching glimpses of awe in the audience's eyes. The thrill of performing in a packed auditorium, with a full orchestra and chorus behind you, is unparalleled. The grand, ensemble scenes epitomise the sheer joy of being on stage."

"Then why the 'foray' into dramatic theatre?"

"It was an experiment of sorts... To be candid, I was intrigued by the play Lala Aliyeva-Klychkova sent me. I agreed to this venture primarily to revisit the 'singing' genre. I had some experience from my student days when Guljahan Gulahmedova-Martynova directed us in plays. In Dark History, for instance, I played dual roles. So when Guest from the Otherworld came along, I was eager to experiment. Plus, the role of Death itself held a peculiar fascination for me..."

"What was so alluring about this particular character?"

"I have a natural inclination towards humour. In social settings, I often become the 'life of the party'. Last year, as I approached my fortieth birthday - a milestone that superstition suggests shouldn't be celebrated - I decided to mark the occasion in my own way. I limited the celebration to a solo concert at the Russian House. Shortly after, I received an offer for a dramatic role where the director envisioned me as Death. It seemed fitting to commemorate my four decades in this unconventional manner. In a way, it was my tribute to that solemn lady whom we all must eventually meet, right on schedule."

"Interestingly, one could see traces of Scarpia in this portrayal."

"That came much later, actually. Allow me to explain. In the play, Death is portrayed as a sort of bureaucrat, complete with all the red tape typical of such characters. In that sense, he could indeed have been the head of the Roman secret police. You might say he plagiarised himself..."

"Would you describe yourself as an obedient actor?"

"Not at all. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I'm a bit of a troublemaker on stage! My first experience working with a drama director was during my graduation performance - the prologue from Faust, with Farid Aliyev as Faust and myself singing Mephistopheles. I must confess, during that performance, I indulged in some playful antics that had my fellow actors in stitches. It all began during rehearsals when I started to 'act out', using my character as a shield. Guljahan-khanim decreed that all my improvisations within the director's framework would remain as I had 'sketched' them. Since then, I've continued to inject a bit of mischief into my performances from time to time. While directors occasionally veto some of my suggestions, more often than not, they embrace my interpretations. They recognise that my immersion in the character often reveals new, organic dimensions to the role. There are times when, despite agreeing with the director during rehearsals, I reserve the right to make my own choices during the actual performance. And you know what? That often elicits the most enthusiastic responses from the audience. After all, what could be more rewarding than the genuine applause that follows a performance?"