From the all-purpose weapon with a poor height to the opera Olympus: Piotr Beczala's frank, informative autobiography.
A “strange roar”, he admits, nothing more came out of the high H in “La donna è mobile”.
The stupid thing was - Piotr Beczala stood in front of Luciano Pavarotti in 1988.
Occasion: a singing competition.
The tenorissimo took the young Polish colleague aside and gave him advice on life: You have to sing high notes, "as if you were pulling a thread through the eye of a needle".
It's hard to imagine today.
Beczala, this elegance turned into sound, in whose singing an operetta tear is always mixed, this artist once only had a “short tenor”, as he puts it in his autobiography.
He avoided the height in two ways, otherwise he preferred exhausting broad-track singing.
Without Pavarotti, without singing teacher Dale Fundling, Beczala would soon have mourned the smoking ruins of his vocal cords.
But “Out into the world”, this life story recorded by Susanne Zobl, contains many more franknesses.
Of course, a star's “How was I?” Also resonates in this entertaining book.
But the 54-year-old does not stop at the proud list of career stages from Linz, his first engagement, through the Zurich ensemble years to step into the Grand Slam Olymp between the Met, Scala, Vienna or Bavarian State Opera.
You learn a lot about the poor conditions in socialist Poland and even more about an opera scene that sometimes radiates little of Lohengrin's “splendor and delight”.
Bullied by conductor Daniele Gatti
He must have been clear about his potential early on - and how it can be further developed.
A self-confident realist who sees his life as a “hike through a stream”: You can only get to your destination “if you go against the current”.
Beczala looks at his career in an amusing and informative manner, from the all-purpose weapon, which is often booked as a jump-in, to the opera Olympian who plays the roles in New York or Salzburg.
But Beczala also presents himself as a political person.
Whether in the lawsuit about his home country Poland (“on the edge of a totalitarian system”) or about direction.
As for the latter, he's not a stubborn traditionalist - just like in his singing, an esthete.
He perceives the fairytale-like productions at the Met as relaxation in order to repeatedly expose himself to European directorial ambitions.
Anyone who confronts him with well-founded ideas can count on a very open artist.
But Beczala displeases many things.
For example, when he was asked to go to a men's outfitter for Martin Kušej's Salzburg “Don Giovanni”, where the costume was supposed to cost 3200 euros.
Or when he was bullied by conductor Daniele Gatti in Milan.
Or the absurd story when he sang for Lohengrin in Bayreuth and signed a contract to get kicked out of production in favor of Roberto Alagna, who in turn gave up three weeks before the premiere.
Who came back as savior is known;
Beczala's swan knight was on par with Bayreuth legends.
Sleek cars and cake recipes
What is sympathetic about this autobiography is the interests away from the stage.
Sleek cars are part of it, as are cake recipes: Beczala's cakes for premieres or dernieres are the sweet icing on the cake of every production.
The fact that he often emphasizes how grateful he is to his wife never seems like a patronizing gesture.
Without Katarzyna, whom he met in a Polish madrigal choir, Beczala would never have had this career.
Kasia, as he calls her, gave up her great mezzo ambitions to become her husband's most important, toughest advisor and supporter.
Threatening problems were also mastered in pairs.
A vocal crisis due to broken veins on the vocal cords, most recently a corona infection, both of which got through in their remote Polish home.
The fact that Beczala is worried about less well-known and wealthy colleagues right now is taken away from him.
Also that he is far from finished with the clever development of his voice.
Heavyweights like Radames and Manrico are coming.
However, Bayreuth has to do without his Parsifal: seven weeks of rehearsals - in times of often poorly crafted directors that can no longer be expected of him.
Piotr Beczala:
“
Out
into the world”.
Recorded by Susanne Zobl.
Amalthea Verlag, Vienna, 253 pages;
25 euros.