A Soprano Frees Himself From Traditional Limits
BERLIN — Samuel Mariño is a rarity in opera: a true male soprano.
Rather than relying on falsetto as a countertenor would, Mr. Mariño, 28, is able to comfortably sing high notes with his chest voice.
Now he is branching out from Baroque parts originally written for castrati. A big step in that direction: “Sopranista,” his new album.
He has his eye on a variety of roles, including Sophie, the ingénue of Strauss’s “Der Rosenkavalier,” and Dvorak’s Rusalka, with the goal of sending a message that classical music should be “open to all communities,” including a multiplicity of genders. “Sopranista” offers a glimpse at that more fluid future.
Mr. Mariño, who was born in Venezuela and is based in Berlin, did not lose the boyish aspects of his voice at puberty; it only “partially broke,” he said. With a high speaking voice, life as a teenager — a gay one, at that — was difficult. “Everyone was making jokes, bullying me,” he said.
So he sought help from his mother; she took him to doctors who offered surgery or vocal therapy. But one suggested he could be a singer. After studying at the Paris Conservatory, he took lessons with the soprano Barbara Bonney. He then spent his early career specializing in castrato roles.
Mr. Mariño spoke about his new album, his desire to go beyond castrato roles and his campaign to free himself — along with classical music generally — from the confines of traditional gender boundaries.
Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.
When were you first exposed to classical music?
We sang at home, and my family loved dancing. We did salsa, merengue, this kind of thing — but no classical music at all. I finished high school at 16, and I wanted to study biology because I love animals and nature. I didn’t get a place for that at university, and I told my mom I wanted to be a ballet dancer. She said, “Why don’t you try singing?”*
When you started studying voice in Paris, were you training as a male soprano?
The teachers were trying to treat me as a countertenor. I had to sing lower when I could sing much higher. Then, in 2017, I met Barbara Bonney. A friend told me that I sing very much like her. I wrote to her and said: “Hi. I’m Samuel and I want to take lessons with you.” I went to Salzburg, Austria, and Barbara was like a fairy godmother. She told me to sing how I speak, to just put notes to my speaking voice. And that is what I do 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 to respect myself and value who I am. I have this voice. I don’t see it as special. I see it as part of my nature.
Your new album starts with a famous Mozart aria written for a woman who is playing a man. What do you bring to the role as a male singer?
My voice is a light lyric soprano, with a bit of coloratura. In the score, Cherubino is a soprano role, but today it’s for mezzo-sopranos and their male-ish colors. If you talk to any mezzo, they will tell you it’s very hard to sing Cherubino, because it’s quite high — not super high notes, but sitting all the time in a high tessitura. Cherubino is a young teenager, and I do him as a boy who is innocent and confused. It’s a totally different vision of how the role can be sung.
Are there traditional female roles that you would like to try?
I would love to sing in a Mahler symphony. Barbara always told me: “Darling, you can sing that. You have a bigger voice than I do.”