Jonas Kaufmann: My Italy (2017) - full transcript
For me, Italy is the land of nostalgia.
Like many Germans,
I spent my first family holidays here
and I've been coming back
regularly ever since.
As soon as I get here,
I find myself humming
and singing to myself all the time,
not just Verdi or Puccini,
but also
the all-time great Italian hits,
from Caruso to Pavarotti,
Modugno and Lucio Dalla.
I adore those songs!
What about a little musical trip?
Come with me!
I was incredibly fortunate
fo come to Italy at such an early age,
this celebrated land
where the lemon trees blossom.
Goethe wasn't the only one
to talk of it so enthusiastically.
During the 1950s and 60s,
Italy was the main tourist destination
for German families.
All those who had the means
would drive over the Brenner Pass to go
and savour the atmosphere
of this blessed country.
I think it was my grandfather
who started it all
and urged the family to go
the first time.
For me, it became natural
to go two or three times a year,
to enjoy and make the most
of an entirely different life.
Today, of course,
when I find myself on the Italian coast,
I immediately think
of those wonderful days
that my sister and I spent
at the beach with our parents.
My father filmed us regularly
and when [ look
at those Super 8s today
I feel recall that very special
sense of happiness
that we no doubt only experience
during a carefree childhood.
The sun, the sea,
those hours at the beach...
It was heaven for us kids.
Not to mention
those delicious ice creams,
the likes of which didn't even exist
in Germany at that time.
My sister and I spent hours
playing table football
and if it had been up to us,
those wonderful summers in Iltaly
would never have come to an end.
My Italy...
Even today
it stirs a sense of joy inside me.
I sense it as soon as I'm at the beach,
I sense it when I take off my shoes
and feel the sand under my feet.
I sense it when the warm air
and the smell of the sea waft over me.
I'm almost as happy
as when I was a little boy.
In that sense, Italy for me
isn't just la dolce vita,
it's also an untouched little corner
of the world.
I was incredibly fortunate to come to Italy starting at such an early age
But the dolce far niente on the beach
was only half of our holidays in Italy.
The rest of the time we got to know
the country and the people
and discovered its towns and cities.
These were genuine cultural trips
that my father planned meticulously.
Today, I often return
to those beautiful old towns.
I simply stop in a region
that I don't know yet
and see what I can discover
walking around.
Perhaps a nice little cafe
with a wonderful espresso
or a shop with old music books.
When [ stroll the streets
and hear the hubbub and car horns,
I often try to imagine
what those places looked like
in the era of Rossini, Verdi or Puccini,
and how they sounded then.
Sometimes, you get the impression
that time has stopped.
You can literally sense the centuries
of history at every street corner
and in the next street
another page of history begins.
Often I'm the one on stage,
but here, in Italy,
I make the most of my role
as a spectator.
I could watch the scenes
of everyday life
in the towns incessantly.
It's grand theatre,
the actors are just seated outside.
They all participate in a game where everyone
watches life pass by in all its glory.
The people here
have their own theatricality
and live without any fake inhibitions,
with all their gestures,
their voices, their passions.
We see plenty of inspiring things
for the stage here
and we can understand
why music represents
something existential here.
In general,
music has an incredible capacity
to influence us in terms of
what we feel and perceive.
And if it is music
that triggers a particular memory
and rekindles a specific moment
of happiness,
I'd say that it is a magic key
to the soul,
a key that works every time.
And the voice is an amplification
of the music.
It's the instrument because of which, and
with which, music was no doubt invented.
The voice existed long before anyone
created instruments. It has always existed.
And it is also the most direct road
from one soul to another.
That is something we've inherited
from our ancestors,
the instinct to feel all that.
In the end,
it's a decisive factor for us singers
when we perform a song:
we need to include these feelings,
these genuine feelings in our song,
to achieve a specific emotional effect
on the audience, on the listener.
Despite all my enthusiasm for Italy,
I know the country sufficiently well
to realise that these images
only show the good sides.
Of course, I'm also aware
of the darker side.
Whether it be corruption, the mafia
or the countless annoying little things,
I don't close my eyes to them,
but they're part of the country.
Nevertheless, we could learn
one thing from the Italians:
in spite of all that irritates us,
weighs upon us or depresses us,
we should remain open
to all the wonderful things
we unexpectedly encounter
in everyday life.
For the espresso addict that I am,
Italy is obviously the promised land.
I willingly leave
my coffee machine at home
and enjoy a delicious espresso in a bar.
I'm always fascinated
to watch a real barista
make an espresso.
And I feel a childlike pleasure
when a perfect coffee
gushes like thick chocolate.
That too is a little instant
of happiness.
I often chat with the Italian bartenders
to discover their secrets
and their tricks.
The right pressure,
the right temperature,
the hardness of the water,
the compression of the coffee...
You can't imagine how many there are!
I really miss all that
when I travel to other countries.
I sometimes find myself in a hotel room
and dream of being in an Italian bar
and enjoying a really good coffee.
I needn't mention
the wonderful cuisine in Italy.
I far prefer a pizza or pasta
in a good Italian restaurant
to an elegant dinner.
In Italy,
you learn to make the most
of life's daily joys.
And I have also learned something else here:
when you're on stage,
don't pretend!
Here feelings are genuine!
I learnt that from the great director
Giorgio Strehler.
He demanded total spontaneity
and unconditional,
absolute passion from us,
and that is strongly burnt into me.
What began with our holidays in Italy
when I was still a little boy
has remained with me all my life:
a longing for harmony and happiness.
And perhaps in a way
a search for paradise lost.
When I look back,
I have to say that it was this longing
that led me to music.
Because music allows us
to rediscover a lost paradise,
even if only for a fleeting moment
when we become like children once more:;
carefree, open
and receptive to everything
that is good for us.
The love of Italy and a love of music:
my family cultivated both,
and both fell on fertile ground
in my case.
I'm grateful for this huge personal
and professional opportunity.
What might have been
the course of my life
without those early experiences
of the language, the music,
the culture and joie de vivre
of the Italians?
I feel at home in their country
and I feel
they have adopted me as an artist.
Perhaps not only because I speak Italian,
but also because they sense
I understand and appreciate
their emotional language.
They have taught me
not to be ashamed of my feelings.
And I'm convinced of this:
only by fully accepting
our own feelings
can we reach and touch others
through music.
Music is the key to the soul.
I's an international language
that everyone speaks and understands.
It can have an effect like nothing else
and which I think
we always underestimate.
I think we can achieve
a lot of things through music.
Maybe not complete world peace,
but at least a step in that direction,
if we use it sensibly.
Like many Germans,
I spent my first family holidays here
and I've been coming back
regularly ever since.
As soon as I get here,
I find myself humming
and singing to myself all the time,
not just Verdi or Puccini,
but also
the all-time great Italian hits,
from Caruso to Pavarotti,
Modugno and Lucio Dalla.
I adore those songs!
What about a little musical trip?
Come with me!
I was incredibly fortunate
fo come to Italy at such an early age,
this celebrated land
where the lemon trees blossom.
Goethe wasn't the only one
to talk of it so enthusiastically.
During the 1950s and 60s,
Italy was the main tourist destination
for German families.
All those who had the means
would drive over the Brenner Pass to go
and savour the atmosphere
of this blessed country.
I think it was my grandfather
who started it all
and urged the family to go
the first time.
For me, it became natural
to go two or three times a year,
to enjoy and make the most
of an entirely different life.
Today, of course,
when I find myself on the Italian coast,
I immediately think
of those wonderful days
that my sister and I spent
at the beach with our parents.
My father filmed us regularly
and when [ look
at those Super 8s today
I feel recall that very special
sense of happiness
that we no doubt only experience
during a carefree childhood.
The sun, the sea,
those hours at the beach...
It was heaven for us kids.
Not to mention
those delicious ice creams,
the likes of which didn't even exist
in Germany at that time.
My sister and I spent hours
playing table football
and if it had been up to us,
those wonderful summers in Iltaly
would never have come to an end.
My Italy...
Even today
it stirs a sense of joy inside me.
I sense it as soon as I'm at the beach,
I sense it when I take off my shoes
and feel the sand under my feet.
I sense it when the warm air
and the smell of the sea waft over me.
I'm almost as happy
as when I was a little boy.
In that sense, Italy for me
isn't just la dolce vita,
it's also an untouched little corner
of the world.
I was incredibly fortunate to come to Italy starting at such an early age
But the dolce far niente on the beach
was only half of our holidays in Italy.
The rest of the time we got to know
the country and the people
and discovered its towns and cities.
These were genuine cultural trips
that my father planned meticulously.
Today, I often return
to those beautiful old towns.
I simply stop in a region
that I don't know yet
and see what I can discover
walking around.
Perhaps a nice little cafe
with a wonderful espresso
or a shop with old music books.
When [ stroll the streets
and hear the hubbub and car horns,
I often try to imagine
what those places looked like
in the era of Rossini, Verdi or Puccini,
and how they sounded then.
Sometimes, you get the impression
that time has stopped.
You can literally sense the centuries
of history at every street corner
and in the next street
another page of history begins.
Often I'm the one on stage,
but here, in Italy,
I make the most of my role
as a spectator.
I could watch the scenes
of everyday life
in the towns incessantly.
It's grand theatre,
the actors are just seated outside.
They all participate in a game where everyone
watches life pass by in all its glory.
The people here
have their own theatricality
and live without any fake inhibitions,
with all their gestures,
their voices, their passions.
We see plenty of inspiring things
for the stage here
and we can understand
why music represents
something existential here.
In general,
music has an incredible capacity
to influence us in terms of
what we feel and perceive.
And if it is music
that triggers a particular memory
and rekindles a specific moment
of happiness,
I'd say that it is a magic key
to the soul,
a key that works every time.
And the voice is an amplification
of the music.
It's the instrument because of which, and
with which, music was no doubt invented.
The voice existed long before anyone
created instruments. It has always existed.
And it is also the most direct road
from one soul to another.
That is something we've inherited
from our ancestors,
the instinct to feel all that.
In the end,
it's a decisive factor for us singers
when we perform a song:
we need to include these feelings,
these genuine feelings in our song,
to achieve a specific emotional effect
on the audience, on the listener.
Despite all my enthusiasm for Italy,
I know the country sufficiently well
to realise that these images
only show the good sides.
Of course, I'm also aware
of the darker side.
Whether it be corruption, the mafia
or the countless annoying little things,
I don't close my eyes to them,
but they're part of the country.
Nevertheless, we could learn
one thing from the Italians:
in spite of all that irritates us,
weighs upon us or depresses us,
we should remain open
to all the wonderful things
we unexpectedly encounter
in everyday life.
For the espresso addict that I am,
Italy is obviously the promised land.
I willingly leave
my coffee machine at home
and enjoy a delicious espresso in a bar.
I'm always fascinated
to watch a real barista
make an espresso.
And I feel a childlike pleasure
when a perfect coffee
gushes like thick chocolate.
That too is a little instant
of happiness.
I often chat with the Italian bartenders
to discover their secrets
and their tricks.
The right pressure,
the right temperature,
the hardness of the water,
the compression of the coffee...
You can't imagine how many there are!
I really miss all that
when I travel to other countries.
I sometimes find myself in a hotel room
and dream of being in an Italian bar
and enjoying a really good coffee.
I needn't mention
the wonderful cuisine in Italy.
I far prefer a pizza or pasta
in a good Italian restaurant
to an elegant dinner.
In Italy,
you learn to make the most
of life's daily joys.
And I have also learned something else here:
when you're on stage,
don't pretend!
Here feelings are genuine!
I learnt that from the great director
Giorgio Strehler.
He demanded total spontaneity
and unconditional,
absolute passion from us,
and that is strongly burnt into me.
What began with our holidays in Italy
when I was still a little boy
has remained with me all my life:
a longing for harmony and happiness.
And perhaps in a way
a search for paradise lost.
When I look back,
I have to say that it was this longing
that led me to music.
Because music allows us
to rediscover a lost paradise,
even if only for a fleeting moment
when we become like children once more:;
carefree, open
and receptive to everything
that is good for us.
The love of Italy and a love of music:
my family cultivated both,
and both fell on fertile ground
in my case.
I'm grateful for this huge personal
and professional opportunity.
What might have been
the course of my life
without those early experiences
of the language, the music,
the culture and joie de vivre
of the Italians?
I feel at home in their country
and I feel
they have adopted me as an artist.
Perhaps not only because I speak Italian,
but also because they sense
I understand and appreciate
their emotional language.
They have taught me
not to be ashamed of my feelings.
And I'm convinced of this:
only by fully accepting
our own feelings
can we reach and touch others
through music.
Music is the key to the soul.
I's an international language
that everyone speaks and understands.
It can have an effect like nothing else
and which I think
we always underestimate.
I think we can achieve
a lot of things through music.
Maybe not complete world peace,
but at least a step in that direction,
if we use it sensibly.