A Singer’s Life: Geneva
Of all the many places I have spent time in my career as an opera singer, one of the stand-out locations is the Swiss city of Geneva. I sang there twice, firstly in Puccini’s ‘Manon Lescaut’, an opera with which I have been closely associated since my very first contract with Scottish Opera, back in the summer of 1982, and secondly, in Camille Saint-Saëns’ ‘Samson et Dalila’, in a production which had been controversial at its first staging in Berlin, and continued to be controversial in Geneva, although musically superb.
These two extended contracts in Geneva (Genève in French) allowed me to explore the wonderful old city by the lake, and much of the surrounding countryside. Situated at the western end of Lake Geneva (Lac Léman in French), it grew up where the river Rhône, which flows through the lake from its upper section starting in the Rhône Glacier in the Alps, continues its journey as a river down to Lyon, where it meets the Saône, and together they flow south, eventually arriving at the Mediterranean Sea near the Camargue and Marseille. Consequently, as a lakeside city and a river port, it became enormously powerful, strategically and commercially and now, with the addition of the United Nations and the Red Cross, the presence of the Large Hadron Collider nearby, and its position as one of the financial centres of the world, Geneva despite only having a population of 200,000 is one of the most important cities in the world.
I love mountains! Not to climb or walk in, but as part of my soul, for want of a better word. I love to be amongst them, to feel them around me and to understand how their grandeur fills me with joy. I love the mountain air, the smell of coniferous trees and the purity of the light round them.
Growing up in Edinburgh as I did, of course, we have our own, albeit small-scale mountain in our midst, Arthur’s Seat. At only 800 ft, it is pretty puny compared to its big brothers elsewhere, but the knowledge that it was originally a volcano rising to nearly 10,000 ft millions of years ago, is rather satisfying. Glacial erosion over millennia has reduced it to its present height, but it dominates the city nonetheless. It’s also quite cool that, by his observations of Arthur’s Seat in the 18th century, James Hutton was able to correct theological views about the Earth’s creation, and to set in motion modern-day geological study.
In my career, I have been privileged to be able to see many of the world’s great mountains. Mount Fuji from Tokyo, Mount Rainier from Seattle, Mount Baker from Victoria, the Jungfrau from Interlaken. Working in Lausanne, one can see directly across Lake Geneva to the Dents du Midi on a clear day. However, for sheer splendour, nothing beats the view from the lakeside in Geneva, looking through the famous fountain, le Jet d’Eau, at Mont Blanc, the highest mountain in Europe at 15,774 ft (4808 metres). For the most part, it is invisible, but on a crystal clear day, one can stroll along the lovely paths beside the lake, looking out at all the little boats, and suddenly, there it is, gleaming white with its eternal snows. It’s almost surreal. Now you see it, now you don’t! Often, when it’s not so clear, one can imagine it, but when it shines out in the south, it’s a wonderful sight. There are lots of ferries you can take to potter about the lake, but the best view is from the corner, in the middle of the city, where the Rhône makes its heroic exit from the lake.
If you walk a few hundred yards inland from where the river appears, you find yourself climbing a gentle hill which takes you up to the top of the promontory where the original old town was built. The usual clutter of narrow, cobbled streets and old buildings, now a jumble of shops and cafes, is a pleasant surprise in a city which seems at first sight to be quite flat, lying by the lakeside. There is no great castle, but there is a rather splendid cathedral up there, St Peter’s. Built in the 12th and 13th centuries, it has seen a lot of history. Geneva was hugely important in the story of the Reformation, and Calvin himself preached in the cathedral, which is now firmly Protestant.
If you stroll downhill from St Peter’s to the west, you arrive at the cultural centre of Geneva, with the splendid Art Gallery and Museum, the magnificent Grand Theatre, the Victoria Concert Hall, and the gardens belonging to the University wherein lies the famous Mur des Reformateurs, the memorial wall to the great Reformation figures closely associated with Geneva (and, interestingly, Scotland). The memorial, which is 100 metres long and built into the old city walls, was constructed in 1909 to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Calvin’s birth, and features a mixture of statues and bas reliefs. The biggest statues are of Calvin himself, along with William Farel, Theodore Beza and John Knox, and they stand grimly overlooking some lovely gardens. You can tell that these are not figures of fun! Knox, who of course was born in Haddington in 1513, a stone’s throw from where I have recently been reviewing the Lammermuir Festival concerts in St Mary’s Church, visited Geneva twice in his stormy life, and was hugely influenced by Calvin. His shadow looms over Scotland, along with his doctrines, but he was celebrated in Geneva, that extraordinary outpost of extreme Protestantism in the16th century, surrounded by huge swathes of Catholicism. Certainly, modern Geneva gives no indication of a God-fearing hotbed! Indeed, just across from the Reformation Wall, is a large and splendid square, housing the Grand Theatre, The Conservatory of Music and the Victoria Hall. I was intrigued by this name, as Queen Victoria seems an unlikely dedicatee. However, it transpires that the concert hall (which I’m sorry to say I never entered) was built in 1891-4 by the architect John Camoletti, and financed by the British Consul, Daniel Barton, who named it after his queen and donated it to Geneva. Photos reveal the interior to be splendid in a French Beaux Arts style, and apparently, it has excellent acoustics. Barton and Camoletti were members of the Geneva Nautical Society, and as they were messing about in boats on the lake, they decided to build a splendid concert hall. It is the home of the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande (the name for the Francophone part of Switzerland), founded in 1918 by Ernest Ansermet, who was principal conductor until 1967! From 1986 to 1997, Armin Jordan was principal conductor, a marvellously quirky conductor, with whom I sang Geronte di Ravoir in Puccini’s ‘Manon Lescaut’ in Nancy. His dressing room was always full of cigarette smoke and the smell of brandy, but he was a most delightful conductor, who accompanied his singers with a deft touch. I never worked out why, when we took the production to Geneva, with the OSR playing, he never conducted our performances (Louis Langrée was in the pit- excellent). Perhaps the brandy and tobacco had got to him. His son, Philippe Jordan, has himself become a distinguished conductor, but Armin was a one off!
Our ‘Manon Lescaut’ played in the Grand Théâtre de Genève, on the same square, La Place Neuve, as the Victoria Hall, and is a very fine building in its own right. Built in 1879, in a horseshoe style with tiers of boxes and rows of seats, it was decorated most lavishly, and must have been very impressive. Sadly in 1951, a huge fire broke out, destroying almost all of the interior, and for 10 years, the theatre was empty and silent. A competition was held for its reconstruction, and, unfortunately, the influence of the late 50s and early 60s predominated. It reopened in 1962 and is still very impressive, but the 1500 seats now form a huge curve opposite the stage which is enormously wide. Sight lines are excellent, but one is aware on stage of a great wide expanse of people and one is conscious of singing in a vast barn rather than an intimate theatre. The acoustics are OK but nothing special, and I had trouble hearing the orchestra clearly, even with foldback. As well as Geronte, I sang the Old Hebrew in Saint-Saëns’ ‘Samson et Dalila’. As I said above, the production was controversial (it had been roundly booed at its first appearance in Berlin apparently), and the presence of huge cattle trucks on railway lines onstage in an opera about Jewish history was insensitive. However, musically, it was superb, with the Latvian tenor Aleksanders Antonenko and the Polish mezzo Malgorzata Walewska, as Samson and Delilah respectively, and the distinguished French conductor Michel Plasson in the pit. My role was quite brief but telling, and I enjoyed the experience, and adored being in Geneva again.
I stayed in an apartment near the airport, next to my old friend from Lyon, Tom Higgins. Tom and I had been at St Andrews University in the 70s, and he and his wife Sue had had a most interesting life in between. Sue was a doctor and Tom had worked as a translator for the United Nations in Geneva while living in Lyon. They decided to open a restaurant in Lyon, but eventually returned to their previous lifestyle, with Tom spending his weekdays in Geneva. He managed to find a flat for me to rent near his own flat in Geneva, and for the duration of my contract at the Grand Théâtre we had a very jolly time. I discovered two fantastic restaurants, one near the United Nations buildings, a fondue restaurant whose speciality was cheese fondues made exclusively from Gruyère cheese, and a steak restaurant near the lake and railway station, serving only steaks! We both enjoyed the splendid Swiss wines, which are unknown outside Switzerland. The northern shores of Lake Geneva, from Geneva to Lausanne are extremely hilly and covered in vineyards, mainly but not exclusively making white wine. These wines from the Canton of Vaud are full of flavour and very moreish. A little further east in the Canton of Valais, around the towns of Sion and Sierre, beyond the lake and up-river, they make a delicious light red wine called Dôle, which you can quaff in all Swiss restaurants and cafes. Most Swiss wine is sold in measures of decilitres, so my favourite phrase became “Deux Décis Dôle, s’il vous plait”! Even better news is that, if you hop over the language border into German speaking Switzerland, even though Swiss German is largely incomprehensible, all you need is “Zwei Dezi Dole, bitte”, for the same result!
One of the supreme delights of working in Switzerland is the opportunity to buy a monthly Rail Pass, allowing you access to all Swiss railways, including funiculars, cogged railways and cable cars, at a considerably reduced price. On my days off, I frequently took advantage of this Pass to explore different areas of this wonderful country. For example, I took a train along the Lake to Montreux, and changed to a mountain railway into the hills behind the town for spectacular views of Lake Geneva and beyond. On another occasion, I took a train right up to the far end of the Upper Rhone valley to Brig, where I changed on to a mountain railway to Zermatt, and then a cog railway to the mountain opposite the Matterhorn, for unbelievable views of the mighty peak. Sitting in the sunshine with a cold beer, gazing at the Matterhorn, was a fantastic experience. I had watched in fascination for many years on Sky Sports Golf, the European Championship at Crans sur Sierre in Crans Montana, and discovered that you could take a train to Sierre in the upper Rhone valley and then transfer to a funicular up to this delightful ski resort, which in summer doubles as a venue for the most spectacular golf tournament. I went in winter and strolled across the lovely course as it lay covered in snow.
Another day, I took a train to Bern and wandered through that remarkable old city, Switzerland’s capital. I had been to Bern many years before, to visit my friend Ian Caley when he sang there as Parsifal and Peter Grimes. It’s a beautiful city, built on a bend of the river Aare, with lovely old buildings, excellent restaurants and a bear pit, whence comes the name. Whatever one thinks of the idea of keeping captive bears, there is no doubt about the weight of tradition which has seen brown bears there for centuries. One of the quirkiest and fun features in Bern is that, randomly in a department store in the middle of town, there is a Pater Noster. Now, I had heard about these things but had no idea they still existed, and it was great fun to go on this never-stopping lift contraption which you jump on and off to change floors. Invented in Liverpool in 1868, and initially used for transporting packages in old post offices, they soon developed into lifts for people, and became very popular. As you can imagine, even though the paternoster goes incredibly slowly, it is still potentially dangerous (although there is no danger of going over the top!), and Health and Safety regulations have contributed to their demise, but, as far as I know, the one in the Bayard Store in Bern is still operational, although now, with my dodgy back, I think I would avoid it.
Back in Geneva, it is very evident that the United Nations plays an important role in the modern city. Whatever one thinks of this organisation, and it must be said that the magnificent ideals that saw its foundation after the Second World War have been dissipated somewhat in the intervening years, it still is a major player in world politics. The Palais des Nations was built originally for the League of Nations after 1929 and is a monument to Art Deco style. There are now many other buildings housing the various departments, but, as the centre of the World Health Organisation, particularly during the Covid Pandemic, it has assumed greater importance. Geneva is also home to the UN Trade and Development section as well as the department for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, and, of course, was where the famous Geneva Convention was signed in 1949, laying down rules for combatants and non-combatants in war, and particularly dealing with the treatment of prisoners of war. The huge power now of transnational companies rather than nation states has rendered many of these great ideals partially redundant, but I would still prefer to have a United Nations than not!
The other feature of modern Geneva is CERN, the European Organisation for Nuclear Research (Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire), set up in 1954, and home to the Large Hadron Collider, the world’s largest and highest energy particle collider (no, I have no idea either!). It was at the Collider in Geneva that scientists discovered the actual existence of the theoretical Higgs Boson, the particle whose existence had been predicted by Peter Higgs, Emeritus Professor of Physics at the University of Edinburgh, and recipient of the Nobel Prize for Physics in 2013. Professor Higgs can often be seen in Edinburgh at galleries and concerts, and I’ve even seen him in Waitrose! In my recent ‘Songs of Edinburgh’ recital (look out for the imminent CD), Beth Taylor and I sang a duet based on Alexander McCall Smith’s poem, ‘Hutton and Higgs’, extolling the virtues of Professor Higgs and his distinguished predecessor in the realms of geology, James Hutton.
All the above is a personal look at one of the world’s great cities, Geneva. Go and visit!
