BERLIN — Samuel Mariño is a rarity in opera: a real male soprano.
Rather than relying on falsetto as a countertenor would, 28-year-old Mariño can comfortably sing high notes with his chest voice. Now he branches from baroque parts originally written for castrati. A big step in that direction: ‘Sopranista’, his debut album on the Decca label, which will be released on Friday.
He has several roles in mind, including Sophie, the ingénue of Strauss’ “Der Rosenkavalier,” and Dvorak’s Rusalka, he said in an interview, aiming to send a message that classical music should be “open to all communities.” ,” including a multitude of genera. And “Sopranista,” named after the Italian term for a male soprano, offers a glimpse of that more fluid future.
The album opens with Cherubino’s aria “Voi che sapete”, from Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro”. Originally written for a female soprano, Cherubino is now a signature pant role – an often young male character played by a mezzo-soprano. Mariño’s program includes more Mozart, as well as the world premiere recording of “Son amour, sa constance extrême,” an aria (again, originally for a woman) from Joseph Boulogne’s little-known chamber opera “L’ Amant Anonyme” (or, “The Anonymous Lover “).
Born in Venezuela and based here in Berlin, Mariño did not lose the boyish aspects of his voice during puberty; it only broke “partially,” he said. With a high-pitched voice, life as a teenager – even homosexual – was difficult. “Everyone was joking and bullying me,” he said.
So he turned to his mother for help; she took him to doctors who offered surgery or vocal therapy. But someone suggested that he could become a singer. After his studies at the Paris Conservatory, he took lessons with the soprano Barbara Bonney. He then specialized in castrato roles at the beginning of his career.
Unlike 17th- and 18th-century neuters — always beardless, and typically tall and fat — Mariño is short and lithe, having already had a five-hour shadow on a recent afternoon walk with Leia, his Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.
In his apartment, Mariño spoke about his new album, his desire to go beyond castrato roles and his campaign to free himself – along with classical music in general – from the confines of traditional gender boundaries. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.
When did you first come into contact with classical music?
We sang at home and my family loved to dance. We did salsa, merengue, things like that – but not classical music at all. My parents were both university teachers and they worked from 7 am to 9 pm. I finished school at 1pm and they stuffed me with many things to fill the time. I did piano, karate, baseball, painted and sang in choirs, and I started ballet when I was 12 or 13. I finished high school at 16 and I wanted to study biology because I love animals and nature. I couldn’t get a place for that in college, and I told my mom I wanted to be a ballet dancer. She said, “Why don’t you try to sing?”
When you started studying singing in Paris, did you train as a male soprano?
The teachers tried to treat me like a countertenor. I had to sing lower when I could sing much higher. Being a countertenor is a given, and they tried to put me in that box. Then in 2017 I met Barbara Bonney. A friend told me that I sing very much like her. I wrote to her and said, “Hello. My name is Samuel and I want to take classes with you.” I went to Salzburg, Austria, and Barbara was like a fairy mother. She told me to sing how I speak, to just take notes on my speaking voice. And that’s what I’m doing today.
When did you start taking pride in how you speak?
I did a lot of psychotherapy when I was a teenager, and I’m still working on respecting and valuing myself for who I am. Some people are bigger, some people are smaller; some people have dark eyes, some people have blue eyes. I have this voice. I don’t see it as special. I see it as part of my nature.
Your new album begins with a famous Mozart aria, written for a woman playing a man. What do you bring to the role as a male singer?
My voice is a light lyrical soprano, with a bit of coloratura. In the score, Cherubino is a soprano role, but today it is for mezzo-sopranos and their masculine colors. If you talk to a mezzo they will tell you that it is very difficult to sing Cherubino because it is quite high – not super high notes, but in a high tessiture all the time. Cherubino is a young teenager and I do him as an innocent and confused boy. It’s a completely different vision of how the role can be sung.
Offstage you often mix and match traditional male and female clothing. Do you aspire to something similar as a singer?
I’m not switching; I’m just a man who likes to wear skirts. I have thousands of jeans, thousands of sneakers – and thousands of heels. On the cover of my new album I wear Vivienne Westwood. I’m trying to expand my bubble, change my technique, mix genders. I’ve sung male roles all my life, but I hope this will change. There are macho castrato roles – Giulio Cesare or Handel’s Teseo – but I don’t like them much. I would very much like to sing Lucia di Lammermoor.
How did you discover Joseph Boulogne’s aria?
I first got to know him through a scene in Sofia Coppola’s movie ‘Marie Antoinette’, where Kirsten Dunst sits at the piano with this Afro-Caribbean teacher. Guadeloupe is around the corner from Venezuela and I became interested in him as a historical person. I heard about the opera online, and then I found the score online. My generation is this lucky; you make two clicks, and that’s it.
Besides Lucia, are there any other traditional female roles you would like to try? What about the Queen of the Night or Carmen?
Technically I can sing the Queen of the Night, but I don’t have the dramatic voice. So it would be like a kid singing. And I can’t sing Carmen, it’s not about the voice, it’s about the personality. I would like to sing a soprano part in a Mahler symphony. Barbara always said to me, “Honey, you can sing that. You have a bigger voice than I do.”
