Felicity Palmer
Mezzo-soprano
My father was an organist who also composed. He left quite a lot of music including songs, two of which I recently sang. Sadly, he went into music teaching as his only option to earn money – I feel he should really have gone to the Royal College of Organists and become, say, a cathedral organist. My mother was into drama, and would love to have been an actress – in a way, my career as an opera singer fulfilled an ambition that she never realised, which I think she found quite frustrating.
When I was young, I sang in church choirs and choral societies, but the die was really cast when, as a teenager, I took part in Gilbert and Sullivan’s Trial by Jury. At 16, I went part-time to the Guildhall for singing lessons, and then full-time two years later. I was very green, and wouldn’t say I learnt much until I got a scholarship to go to study in Munich towards the end of my time there.
I’d actually studied A-level music with my father. One of the subjects was MOZART’S
Marriage of Figaro, and the recording that we used was the one conducted by Erich Kleiber – the fantastic cast included Hilde Gueden, Lisa della Casa and all. I fell in love with it then, and still think the letter duet between the Countess and Susanna in that recording is as near to perfection as you are ever going to get.
While at college, I joined the chamber choir, which was run by John Alldis, and then later joined his professional choir, which was pretty terrifying. I remember singing
PALESTRINA’S Missa assumpta est Maria, my first encounter with Latin church music. That, along with works such as Lotti’s Crucifixus, touched a spiritual chord that I wasn’t able to identify at the time, but I went on to join the Schütz Choir and the Monteverdi Choir and, in 1992, became a Catholic and spent many years going to Westminster Cathedral. It’s still very special music to me.
Possibly the most useful thing I did at the Guildhall was French music classes with the brilliant Winifred Radford, who brought baritone Pierre Bernac over to do masterclasses. With him I worked on
POULENC’S La courte paille, which gave me a grounding in and love of French music. I would go on to sing Poulenc’s Gloria as a soprano and, much later, his opera Dialogues des Carmélites which has become something of a calling card – there are so many moments in it that are special, not least Blanche’s encounter with her brother in Act II when she tells him
‘Je suis une fille de Carmel’. Poulenc has been such an important part of my life, as have the likes of Messiaen and Fauré.
In 1968, I went as an extra with the Monteverdi Choir to sing works by
MONTEVERDI at the V&A museum. I had never encountered his music before, but it was a bit of a coup de foudre, as the French would say – I was on a high for about a week. Having sung and recorded much of his music, among my favourite moments of his are the Ave Maris Stella, the Gloria and the final Amen – which is the Amen to crown all Amens – in the Vespers.
I’d say I’m a bit of a square, and my father was a total square – anything resembling pop music was immediately decried. I remember, though, working in Glasgow at one point, and the TV was turned on late at night. There was a singer on it who I was riveted by. It was the beginning of my acknowledging that there are people in other parts of music who have that unmistakable asset of being able to make you sit up and listen. That singer was GLORIA ESTEFAN, who is a wonderful performer. I replay her Éxitos de Gloria Estefan CD on regular occasions! Interview by Jeremy Pound