Tenor Jonathan Tetelman made his Metropolitan Opera debut last March as Ruggero in Puccini’s La rondine, with The New York Times praising him for his “hyper-focused, brightly resonant voice that conveyed the sunny ping of an Italianate instrument.” Now, California audiences have two chances this fall to hear the much-in-demand tenor.
First, he sings the role of B.F. Pinkerton in his Los Angeles Opera debut in Madame Butterfly, which runs Sept. 21 – Oct. 13 at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. The new-to-L.A. production is from Madrid’s Teatro Real and is directed by Mario Gas, who is also making his LA Opera debut, as is soprano Karah Son as Cio-Cio-San, a role she’s sung more than 300 times. Then, Tetelman returns to San Francisco Opera to portray Don José in Georges Bizet’s Carmen, a revival of director Francesca Zambello’s staging that plays Nov. 13 – Dec. 1 at the War Memorial Opera House.
Born in Castro, Chile, Tetelman was adopted at 6 months old by an American couple and grew up in Princeton, New Jersey. His vocal talent was noticed by a local music teacher and subsequently nurtured at Princeton’s American Boychoir School. He earned his undergraduate degree — as a baritone — from Manhattan School of Music and went on to receive a graduate degree from Mannes School of Music, where he began the gradual transition to tenor.
But before he ever bowed on the international operatic stage, Tetelman did a three-year stint as a DJ at a Manhattan nightclub. He eventually found his way back to singing and firmly established himself as a tenor, and his career has been on the ascent ever since. He has numerous Puccini roles in his repertory — Rodolfo in La bohème, Cavaradossi in Tosca, Alfredo in La traviata — which he’s sung at some of the world’s major houses. Steeped in the Italian repertoire, the 35-year-old has also won wide acclaim in such rarities as Riccardo Zandonai’s Francesca da Rimini and Verdi’s Stiffelio, along with roles in Ruggero Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci and Pietro Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana.
In addition, the tenor with the movie-star looks, whom Opera News dubbed a “major talent” and who was also honored at the 2023 Opus Klassik Awards as a Breakout Artist of the Year, has two solo recordings on Deutsche Grammophon, including last year’s The Great Puccini, with another album in the works and three live performances set to be recorded at the end of October.
SF Classical Voice spoke with Tetelman, who lives in Romania, by phone, taking a deep dive into his love for Puccini and what it takes to be a tenor.
It’s no secret that you were adopted, but was there music in your family?
I would say there was music. My parents made me listen to a lot of ’40s and ’50s music in the car. I was constantly listening to it, then I fell in love with it. [Frank] Sinatra, Jerry Lee Lewis, The Temptations, this kind of music, but not really so much classical music. That was my own exploration.
I started enjoying classical music because I sang in a choir, which started my interest. I was 19 or 20 years old when I [decided that I] wanted to be an opera singer — to sing professionally. I thought maybe in the Metropolitan Opera Chorus, some sort of classical music situation, but I didn’t know if I wanted to be an all-out opera singer.
You’re making your LA Opera debut this month, but had you worked with Mario Gas, Karah Son, or Music Director James Conlon before? And what do you think of the action getting a cinematic twist and taking place on a 1930s film set?
I’ve only worked with Karah; she was my first Butterfly in Montpellier in southern France. It was a wonderful production by Ted Huffman in 2019. I actually just did a production which was kind of a similar idea to [LA Opera’s]. It didn’t have all the expansiveness of this production, but it had the same time period [and a] feeling [similar to the musical] South Pacific.
I think it’s a nice modernization; I think it’s approachable. People of the current generation know this time period pretty well, [and] I think the mixed-media thing is a nice addition. It’s a good idea for young people, but it has to be done in a way that’s not distracting. There will be filming while we’re singing and not singing.
What is your attraction to the cad Lieutenant Pinkerton, who, for those who might not know, arranges to marry Cio-Cio-San and then abandons her?
I never had a real interest in singing Pinkerton and kind of avoided the role. It’s a tough role to play; you’re basically setting yourself up to fail. Pinkerton is one of those roles, even on your best night, people are going to hate you. It takes a lot of maturity to sing it, [and I] was looking for glory and praise to feel connected to the character, [so] it’s taken a long time. I don’t think it’s a young man’s character, [and] I think I’m a little young. Even though the character is young, it requires a lot of maturity.
But the music, Jonathan …
The music is so entrancing, especially in Act 1. It’s so exciting to sing. If you can sing this role, it’s a stepping stone to [Jules Massenet’s] Manon. When you’re on, you’ve got to be on times 1,000. There’s 45 minutes of very, very thick-scored singing [that] requires a lot of stamina. You have to make your case [to the audience] in Act 1. If you don’t, one and a half hours go by, then you come back and you have 10 minutes.
I like the challenge. I like that there are certain roles in my repertory I don’t like. It makes me want to work on something. It makes me interested in my singing, acting, and a connection to this art that I have to build. If I do everything easy and [it] makes me happy and gives me a lot of applause, it’s a cheap way of doing art.
How do you prepare for a role?
For this role, I would say I’m reviewing the text, reviewing more and more, understanding what my colleagues are saying, what they’re feeling. Understanding the other characters takes a lot of time. Understanding your character is good, and you can make a nice impression, but building it externally into the rest of the cast — that’s what makes mastery of the character. I’m still keeping an open mind. I want to like him better!
This is the 100-year anniversary of Puccini’s death. Has that affected your choice in roles this season?
I think it’s kind of nice I’ve built my whole understanding of opera and performance around Puccini. He was the first composer I connected to and could sing a whole opera [by]. It wasn’t a finished product by any means, but I could do it [in one of his roles]. His connection to character and musical expression and immediacy — everything is happening now, when you say it — not like in Verdi, [where the drama is] expanded over time, or Mozart.
It has that flow of bel canto. It has that romanticism, but the story goes on. You don’t deliberate on things. These things are happening now; decisions are being made immediately. That was a good start for me. I didn’t want to focus on technique but wanted to get onstage to sing. I think I’ve now almost completed all of [Puccini’s] lyric and full-lyric repertory, minus Rinuccio [in Gianni Schicchi]. I think for me, it’s kind of the halfway mark very soon in the Puccini repertory at the centenary celebration of his death.
Here’s another Puccini question: Why do you think you aren’t ready to sing Calaf in Turandot, except for crooning “Nessun dorma” in a convertible, as well as on your album The Great Puccini?
I am still not quite ready to book Turandot. I’m waiting for the right moment, the right place, the right cast, the right production. I’ve been offered it a lot. I think this role needs a special place. Maybe in five years’ time, I would be happy to do it. But I would like to do des Grieux in Manon first.
I think Calaf is one of those roles that requires a lot of maturity; it’s another one of these stories that you need an open mind for. I think it’s getting harder for opera houses to take risks in operas like this. I want to do it somewhere that has these pieces. I want to feel free. I want to feel Jonathan can be Calaf. I want to feel free about how I feel about the character.
[As for] “Nessun dorma” and [Calaf’s] Act 1 aria, to be honest, I could probably sing [them], but is it the right time? Aren’t there other operas I should do when I’m young — like Les contes d’Hoffmann [or] Faust, [which] I can’t do in my 50s — and wait for more dramatic repertory later?
You transitioned from baritone to tenor, but at one point, you said that you didn’t think you were “physically, mentally, or emotionally ready to take on what it means to be a tenor.” Can you elaborate on that, please?
Being a tenor is a lifestyle. It’s a change of your whole perception of how you live your life. I had to change my diet, when I went to bed, the amount of practice I do. It’s serious, and it’s also a deep understanding of building your technique constantly, not that [you] have technique and can just put it on a shelf. You have to be committed every day. When I was 18, forget about it; I was too young to commit to something like that. But I turned 25, and I was ready — as a late bloomer — to be devoted and focused on building that craft.
What kind of advice would you give aspiring opera singers, and how can opera benefit everyone?
I think opera, because it’s a kind of mixed medium of arts and expression, can heal everyone. I don’t mean physically but emotionally. People that have distress and pain, they can seek opera, and opera can provide them with that beauty and warmth they might be missing.
My advice? Patience, patience, patience, and a little more patience. Also, at the same time, you have to be obsessed. You have to be focused. You have to let your voice be the priority.
Where do you see yourself in the next five to 10 years, besides singing, well, Calaf?
I think I see myself continuing to do tenor roles but on a different scale. Don Ottavio [from Mozart’s Don Giovanni] can be an older man. He shouldn’t be a 21-year-old kid. Roles should be sung by more mature — the most mature — tenors. But actually, I would like to be a director. I love collaborating, working with conductors. That would be a much better use of my time. So maybe in 20 years, I see myself directing, because I’m still only 35!