A Singer’s Life Pt21
Wine and Song
I’m here, I’m here, with my jolly crew!
Come near, we’ll rejoice as well as you!
Give to everyone his glass,
Then altogether clash, clash, clash.
Drink, and despise the politic ass!!
Such did I sing in the guise of Bacchus in Purcell’s incidental music for ‘Dioclesian’ written for the Theatre Royal in London in 1690, which I recorded with Trevor Pinnock and the English Concert on Deutsche Gramophon’s Archiv label in 1995.
Wine is a great feature in many operas and operettas. There is ‘Champagne, the king of Wines’ in Johann Strauss’ ‘Die Fledermaus’, the famous ‘Brindisi’ in ‘La Traviata’, ‘Vivat Bacchus’ in Massenet’s ‘Werther’, Iago’s Italian version of ‘Let the cannikin clink’ in ‘Otello’ and the scenes in Auerbach’s Cellar in various Faust operas.
It has been noticed by some that my fondness for wine made me a natural for personifications of the God of Wine, Bacchus. Surely not, and yet… My career has been fortunate in taking me to many locations deep in wine country, and indeed far from my beginnings in Scotland, a country famous for liquor but lacking in vineyards! It is true that I will partake occasionally of a small single malt whisky, but my love is for the grape rather than the grain.
The early stages of my professional life offered me the chance to learn about the Prosecco, Soave and Valpolicella of the hinterland of Venice, and the delights of Orvieto whites and the rich reds of Chianti when I was in Rome. My good friend Ian Caley was instrumental in introducing these splendours to me, as he had already spent the early part of his career in Europe. One must remember that, as a youth growing up in Edinburgh in the 60s and 70s, wine was a drink of posh people, perhaps even English people! Scots drank tea, whisky and beer, and a taste for and even a small knowledge of wine was a social ‘no no’! It was really only when Fran and I moved to London in 1978 that we became acquainted with the untold wonders of wine. We were very fortunate to meet a good friend’s brother-in-law at that time who was a wine merchant, and who saw it as his duty to educate these weird beer-swilling Scots in the civilised culture of the vine. It must be said that, although still happy to down the odd pint or two after a show, I was an easy student and soon summer holidays became ventures into wine regions of Europe with our car, with me driving and Fran navigating. No Sat Nav then, just good old-fashioned road maps. This allowed us to learn about the various wines, the languages and the customs of the people who made the wines and was the foundation of a lifelong romance with all things vineous. I don’t think we ever thought about a sun, sea and sand holiday until, a decade later, the children were not slow in telling us that a ‘holiday driving round vineyards’ was BORING! I am delighted to relate that now, in early adulthood, they are reconciled to our hobby, and even drink the stuff themselves.
As I began to get more engagements in Europe in the early 90s, and still living in London, it was entirely sensible for me to drive to the city where I was singing. This allowed me to be mobile when not rehearsing or performing and also enabled me to stock up with wine for our cellar back home.
One of the first serious collecting trips was when I sang for the second time in Nantes. As I mentioned beforehand, I loved driving north to the amazing megalithic sites of the Morbihan, and, of course Brittany and Normandy (I sang several times in Caen) are famed, like south west England, for cider, but not far south from Nantes and now part of the Nantes Opera, is Angers, a wonderful town with a huge mediaeval castle, on the very edge of the Loire wine growing region. Not only that, but just across the river from Nantes is the lovely region of Muscadet, where they grow the vines that make the perfect accompaniment to seafood and shellfish. If you pay a little more for the appellation “Muscadet-Sèvres et Maine sur lie”, you will discover a wonderful crisp tangy white wine which should be drunk young and is quite delicious.
Back at Angers, one of the wonders of the wine world is found within a very short drive from the city. To the south west, on the right (north) bank of the Loire, are the vineyards of the tiny appellation of ‘Savennières’ where they make, in small and expensive quantities, a miraculous dry white wine from the Chenin Blanc grape. It is full-bodied and impressive, can give a good Burgundy a run for its money and is capable of lasting a long time in bottle (unlike Muscadet). Almost directly across the river, the same grape makes one of the most luscious sweet wines in the whole of France in the Coteaux du Layon, especially the fabulously named Bonnezeaux. Geography, soil types and climatic conditions have somehow combined to make two close regions produce wines of totally different styles using the same grape.
Carrying on a bit east from the Angers area, one arrives at the heart of the Loire wine region with the marvellous reds of Chinon, Bourgeil, Saumur and Saumur- Champigny, made mainly from the Cabernet Franc grape, and the whites and rose wines of Vouvray and Montlouis, mostly again Chenin Blanc, including the luscious sweet wines around Vouvray, which rival Bonnezeaux down river and Sauternes away south near Bordeaux. All this region can be reached easily from Nantes and especially Angers, and I was able to fill the boot and the back seat of my car with cases of wine, bought directly from the growers at fantastically decent prices. Muscadet in particular is seriously under-priced to this day, and goes really well with lobster, langoustine and scallops.
When I sang in Geneva and Lausanne, I was able to discover one of Switzerland’s great secrets – the wines made around Lake Geneva. As you drive between the two cities, and if you come off the autoroute, you can drive for miles through delightful wine villages, and sometimes stop for a tasting. Here the wines are mainly white, using primarily the Chasselas grape, and the names Fendant, Epesses, Yvorne and Mont-sur-Rolle are the ones to look for. Some red is grown at the west end, but more reds are found at the eastern end of Lake Geneva and inland towards Sierre and Sion where the grape is predominantly the Pinot noir, the great grape of Burgundy, but here producing a lovely soft mouthful similar to an Alsace Pinot Noir. Dole is the main name to look for, and indeed in most Swiss restaurants and bars, Dole is sold by the 10th of a litre. ‘Deux decis Dole’ should do the trick! A delicious pinot noir rose, ‘Oeil de Perdrix’, (The Eye of the Partridge) comes from the Neuchatel region and is worth seeking out.
I was lucky enough to sing frequently in Lyon, and apart from being a splendid city on the confluence of the Rhone and the Saône rivers with lovely buildings and a major gastronomic reputation, it is close to several wonderful wine appellations. To the north is Beaujolais, where the Gamay grape produces the most fabulous fruity red wine, at a price that is still affordable, and to the south along the Rhone, one finds Hermitage, Crozes-Hermitage, Côte-Rôtie, St Joseph and Condrieu. Apart from Condrieu, which is a stunning outpost of white wine made from the Viognier grape (once almost exclusive to this tiny appellation, but now seen everywhere), the majority of these wines are red and mostly made from the Syrah grape (Shiraz in other places) and vary from medium (Crozes) to full bodied (Côte-Rôtie). Hermitage and Côte-Rôtie command huge prices, last a long time and are sumptuous.
When I sang for the first time at the Festival d’Aix-en-Provence, I was able to take our second car, a nice big Volkswagen Passat. During the rehearsal period, I drove round Provence and the Lower Rhone enjoying the countryside and buying wine. The whole region is covered with vineyards from the famous Châteauneuf du Pape, near Avignon, through Gigondas and into the foothills of Mount Ventoux (scene of many famous Tour de France events), where the local wine, Ventoux, is sold at a very reasonable price. South and west of Aix are the fantastic vineyards of the Côtes and Coteaux de Provence, famous for making, in my opinion, the best Rose wine in the world, as well as some decent whites. Further south, on the coast, are Bandol (red) and Cassis (white) which produce very decent wines in gorgeous locations. I had arranged for Fran and the two children to join me in Provence for the last few performances, so we could enjoy the sunshine and the sea. I booked an apartment in a complex near the sea in Bandol and commuted to and from Aix for performances. It didn’t look far, but, as I had done in 1991 with the Hilliards (see previous article), I reckoned without the mountains (in this case the very southern range of the Alps down to the Mediterranean). It was all Autoroute, but winding and hilly, to say the least. Nevertheless, it was nice to be beside the seaside.
While I was in Aix on my own, I had been steadily building up my collection of wine and kept it in a cool place near where I was staying. I thought I was being sensible (to an extent) and reckoned there was just about enough room for me to drive home. Then I remembered that there would be three passengers for the very long journey back to our home, which was by now in Edinburgh. It is actually a VERY long journey! 1,861 kms! I bought a roof rack. I tried to sell my children (joke!). I realised I had screwed up. Fortunately, one of the Figaro cast had made friends with a small monastic order just inside the old town of Aix and interceded for me with them. I knew I was coming back to Geneva six months later, and reckoned if I took the car, I could make a serious but possible diversion via Provence on the way home. She spoke to the delightfully named abbot. Père Noël (Father Christmas!), who said I could leave the overflow of wine cases with him and his monks for six months. There was one slight problem, he said. Due to the heat and aridity of Provence, wine was known in those parts to evaporate somewhat, often over a six-month period?! I told him that a certain proportion, say six bottles, one for each month, might be seen as a suitable loss of my wine in the circumstances and he agreed. God moves in mysterious ways, so they say.
When I sang in Strasbourg at the Opera du Rhin, I was able to visit the wonderful vineyards of Alsace, which are only 30 minutes south of the city. This is a fascinating region with a long and difficult history of dominance by France and Germany over the centuries. Since the Second World War, it has been part of France, and particularly in Strasbourg, it feels very French. However, most of Alsace looks German, and the further south you go, the more Germanic it seems. In fact, most of the older Alsatians speak a dialect of Low German, nearer Swiss German than anything else, and the wine they produce reflects that feeling. With a few exceptions (notably St-Hippolyte, where they make a delicious Pinot Noir red)), Alsace produces fantastic white wines, made from the Riesling, Pinot Gris, Gewurztraminer and Muscat grapes, and there is a huge range of sweetness from dry through to honeyed lusciousness. Most of the village names are German, like Kaysersberg, Bergheim and Riquewihr, and nearly all are extremely picturesque and attractive. Storks nest in many of the village church towers and the views are stunning, behind to the Vosges Mountains and east over the Rhine to the hills of the Black Forest in Germany. Just over the river into Germany near Colmar, there is an extraordinary outcrop of rock which has been planted with vineyards since Roman times, called the Kaiserstuhl (the Emperor’s Seat). There, one can find wines made with the same grapes as in Alsace, but with a quite different taste and nose. It comes under the area name of Baden and is worth a visit.
Many of my singing trips have been blissfully enhanced by wine visits. I even managed to wangle an appearance at the Beaune Festival in Burgundy singing solos in Purcell anthems with Philippe Herreweghe. He preferred a light baritone to a full bass, so was always asking me to sing softer and with less colour. I did my best, took the money and ran to the best vineyards in the world. Burgundy wine, both red and white, are to me the summation of the winemaker’s art, and the names of Beaune, Nuits-St-Georges, Puligny- Montrachet and Meursault are the stuff of dreams. Sadly, the taste is now almost reserved for Dreamland, as an influx of Chinese buyers over the last 20 years has seen the price of a bottle go through the roof to make this king of wines virtually unaffordable to mere mortals and opera singers.
After this little diversion into viticulture, the next article will take us to some of the finest theatres in the world.
