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I was honored to step in this week as soprano soloist with the Concertgebouw Orchestra, one of the world’s greatest bands. A colleague had fallen ill just before the planned premiere of a piece by Bram Kortekaas. I was contacted on Sunday afternoon: could I learn the fourteen-minute score immediately? Would the piece be a good fit? Was my command of Dutch language good enough? I had worked once before with Antony Hermus, the wonderful conductor of this all-Dutch program, but the orchestra didn’t know me, and I know perfectly well what a risk it is for management to make a call like this at the last minute.

I looked through the score: some high Cs and Ds, some lowish notes, some quick tempi and big intervallic leaps, some lyrical passages, lots and lots and lots of Dutch. I called my friend Manoj, who promised to help with the text. Manageable. I took a deep breath and began writing my response: Yes, I can do it.

The next few days were a blur. Read More

I’m feeling a fizzy sense of anticipation as my album release date nears, boosted by a lot of good advance publicity. Only three days until Regards sur l’Infini officially launches on 27 November!

MusicWeb International has given us a sublime review and one of their coveted “Recommended” labels.

Beautifully recorded, exquisitely performed. … Katharine Dain is perfection itself. Her tone is light but not insubstantial, flexible, expressive and colourful, with a natural vibrato that you can listen to forever. Sam Armstrong’s accompaniment is sensitive and equally expressively communicative, an ideal mirror to Dain’s voice. … A superbly curated programme of French music. … This is the kind of recording that reminds us that there is not only beauty in melancholy, but also a wealth of inspiration.

—Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International, 25 November 2020

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I’m so grateful to have been involved in the 2020 Nederlands Studenten Orkest tour of a concert program fittingly titled “Extase,” which closed Sunday night to massive fervor in the Grote Zaal of Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw. The orchestra (made up of all university students, approximate ages 18-26, led by Manoj Kamps) worked for four weeks, I for three, with an intensive rehearsal period followed by 13 concerts in 15 days. It was exhausting, it was massively stimulating, and it was incredibly fun. It was my first time singing Wagner, the Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde; the kids of the orchestra made that a safer, more exploratory, more joyful experience than it might have been in another context. (I’m definitely a lyric soprano, not a dramatic or Wagnerian voice, but with this group, and this conductor, I didn’t have to worry about balance or Fach or long-term implications: I could just focus on making the most sublime, rapturous music I could, with everyone in full support. Judge for yourself below, where I’ve posted the recording, if you’d like.) And we built an exciting new piece from scratch: Rick van Veldhuizen’s unde imber et ignes, which I loved discovering and singing. Keep your eyes on his name, everyone—Rick is a star.

I also got to listen to Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring more often and closely than ever before, as that was the concert’s second half, and the encore—a raucous arrangement of “I’m So Excited” in which everyone changed into silly outfits, including Manoj and I, who switched clothes, he into my dress and me into his jacket—brought down the house every night. It was an honor and a joy work and play so hard with Manoj, one of the first people I met on a job in this country, one of the loveliest conductors and people imaginable. Rick is a new friend, but one I’m delighted to know, and the kids of the orchestra inspired and moved me daily.

Press was very positive, and I got a few nice mentions. The NRC thinks I’m “uitstekend” (“outstanding”), yay, and a reviewer for Trouw, who understood and celebrated the entire concert’s concept, had this to say: “meteen in Wagners ‘Vorspiel und Liebestod’ uit ‘Tristan und Isolde’ hingen de studenten aan die markante handen, die Dain verleidden tot een verzengend gezongen ‘Mild und leise’. In het nieuwe, gedurfde en geslaagde stuk van Rick van Veldhuizen waren beiden ook al zo goed op dreef.” (“Immediately in the Prelude and Liebestod from Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde, the students were hanging on [Kamps’s] striking hands, which led Dain to a scorchingly sung “Mild und leise.” In the daring and successful new piece by Rick van Veldhuizen, both were in top form.”)

If you’re curious, feel free to listen back to recordings made live from Utrecht’s TivoliVredenburg and broadcast on Radio4: Wagner Liebestod and van Veldhuizen unde imber et ignes.

In a very last-minute change, I will be replacing the Spanish soprano Nuria Rial tonight in a concert presented by Bozar Brussels with the Auryn Quartet and bassist James Munro. The repertoire is Boccherini’s lovely Stabat Mater for soprano and strings, as well as music by Bach and Mendelssohn. I wish Nuria a speedy recovery and am grateful to my new colleagues for their generosity and beautiful playing in our rehearsal today.

On the early trip down from Rotterdam this morning, I was also treated to a stunning winterscape from the train window. Perk!

I’ve been hugely enjoying singing Donna Anna with the Orchestra of the 18th Century under Kenneth Montgomery, a semi-staged production that is touring the Netherlands and Belgium in October. With a dream cast and a group of players that take as much interest in the storytelling as the singers, I’m finding new colors and possibilities in the piece in every performance. The press has been very positive.

“Donna Anna … was in handen van Katharine Dain, een heel fraai optreden. Haar twee grote aria’s ‘Don Ottavio, son morta!’ en ‘Crudele Non mi dir… bell’idol mio’ waren van grote klasse; verrassend, met een paar extra coloraturen.” (“Donna Anna was sung by Katharine Dain, in a very fine performance. Her two major arias ‘Don Ottavio, son morta!’ and ‘Crudele … Non mi dir’ were first-class, surprising with extra coloratura.”) –Place de l’Opera

“Bij de dames overtuigde vooral de sopraan Katharine Dain als een lyrische en beheerste Donna Anna, het enige adellijke slachtoffer van Don Giovanni.” (“Of the women, the soprano Katharine Dain was especially convincing as a lyrical and controlled Donna Anna, Don Giovanni’s only victim of the nobility.”) –OpusKlassiek

“Bij de zangers zijn de uitblinkers … de sopraan Katharine Dain als Donna Anna, die haar krachten spaart voor de
schitterende aria Non mi dir…” (“Outstanding among the singers … soprano Katharine Dain as Donna Anna, who kept her strength for the beautiful aria ‘Non mi dir…'”) —Het Parool

“Du côté des femmes, l’américaine Katharine Dain domine avec beaucoup d’aisance les aspérités de Donna Anna, et impose un phrasé des plus expressifs.” (“Among the women, Katharine Dain gracefully smoothed Donna Anna’s rough edges with most expressive phrasing.”) —Opera Online

“Donna Anna, de jonge vrouw die zich niet laat pakken, krijgt het vuur in de keel van sopraan Katharine Dain.” (“Donna Anna, the young woman who doesn’t let herself be caught, blazes with fire in the throat of soprano Katharine Dain.”) –Volkskrant

“magnifiek … kippenvel” (“magnificent … goosebumps”) –Trouw

“Sopraan Katharine Dain bracht een mooie kordate Donna Anna…” (“Soprano Katharine Dain was a beautifully resolute Donna Anna…”) –Opera Gazet

I’ve been slow to post reviews this spring, but I’ve had particularly kind words about several recent performances, and I’m delighted to announce that Damask‘s debut album, O schöne Nacht, has received a prestigious award: the Choc de Classica.

Here is an excerpt of the glowing review of Damask’s disc (translated from the French): “Brahms’ writing, which weaves voices together so naturally that each seems born of the others, is a perfect fit for the spirit of Damask Quartet, an international vocal ensemble founded in 2014 in the Netherlands. Katharine Dain’s agile, round soprano, the voluptuous and vibrant mezzo-soprano of Marine Fribourg, Guy Cutting’s flexible and lustrous tenor voice, and the deep warmth of baritone Drew Santini are all portals to the composer’s shimmering sound-world. From pianist Flore Merlin’s first arpeggios, Brahms’s Vier Quartette Op. 92 envelop us in the warmth of the night, its romantic possibilities and its sensuality.” The review will be in the June 2019 issue of Classica magazine. We are so pleased that our hard and careful work has been consistently rewarded with great press since the CD was released in the winter; receiving such an award feels like a real milestone.

In April, I jumped in for an ill colleague in songs of Zemlinsky and Berg in Austria’s Osterfestival. It was an utterly beautiful experience—the meeting of musicians, repertoire, location, and concentrated atmosphere was inspiring, and I couldn’t believe that it was all put together on such short notice. The Kronen Zeitung agreed (translated from the German): “Alban Berg’s ‘Seven Early Songs’ [were] sung by soprano Katharine Dain, who made these strange melodies seem completely natural with her vocal coloring and soulful dynamics. In Zemlinsky’s ‘Six Songs after Maeterlinck,’ she and the musicians meshed the simplicity of the vocal line with sensual instrumental sound.”

And in May, I sang my first Brahms Requiem. The Boston Musical Intelligencer wrote a nice piece on the concert, including the following: “Brahms surely was thinking of his late mother while composing the fifth movement, Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit (You now have sorrow), a rare expression of tender consolation set for solo soprano with the chorus largely in an accompanimental role. The soloist’s very first phrase is a stern test of the singer’s breath control, a long ascending and descending melody that is entirely exposed over a silky cushion of muted strings. Katharine Dain was appropriately seraphic, seemingly beyond the tiresome bodily necessity of breathing, and the strings were equally ravishing. As with the earlier baritone solo, the interplay of soloist, chorus, and orchestra was handled sensitively, with exemplary balances and unanimity of expression. Dain had an especially radiant moment ascending to a high A at “[I] have found great comfort,” and the ending was sweetly maternal (“I will comfort you, as one whom his mother comforts”), capped by a celestial high pianissimo chord in the wind instruments.”

In early October I sang on several concerts honoring the composer Sofia Gubaidulina with the New European Ensemble. I first encountered her magisterial Hommage à T. S. Eliot at West Cork Chamber Music Festival several years ago; I couldn’t believe the sheer force of the music and the sympathy of the text setting. It was a huge pleasure to revisit the piece with these stellar players, and we got an excellent review in the NRC:

“In Hommage à T.S. Eliot (1987) liet sopraan Katharine Dain de volle reikwijdte van haar stem horen: quasi-spreekgezang en met lucht omklede fluisteringen in de laagte, via expressief uitgespuugde lettergrepen, tot vlammend hoge uithalen.”

(“In Hommage à T. S. Eliot (1987) Katharine Dain let loose the full range of her voice: quasi-sprechstimme and airy whispering in the low range, syllables expressively spat out, to eviscerating, flaming highs.“

I’ve been singing the showpiece “Glitter and be gay” for years, but finally I got to sing the whole role of Cunégonde in Leonard Bernstein’s Candide in Banff. This role is a keeper; I had so much fun getting to know her, finding her unique physicality and voice, and being as much of a diva as possible. The Calgary Herald reviewed the whole show positively and had these kind words about my performance:

“Casting Katharine Dain’s dark-hued Cunégonde was the right choice for the outdoor performance. Dain has a faithful and solid tone throughout her entire range, and a mature, modulated coloration that is truly enviable. There has been a swing of late toward light lyric/soubrette-styled performances of the role the past 20 years, but Dain reminded us what the richer lyric coloratura fach ought truly to sound like in her tightly controlled performance of the epic cavatina/cabaletta Glitter and be gay. Bernstein’s parody of Marguerite’s “Ah! Je ris, de me voir si belle” in Gounod’s Faust, satirized the addiction to jewelry and Cunégonde’s incapacity to resist it. Dain pulled off the cynical, saucy line “If I’m not pure, at least my jewels are!” disturbingly well.”

Watch a video of the whole aria here.

I enjoyed a recent success as a laureate of the Armel Opera Competition in Paris. Organized by the Armel Festival in Budapest, the competition grants roles in a production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni that will receive its premiere in 2019 in Cuenca, Ecuador and then travel to Budapest, where it will be broadcast live on ARTE Concert. I was chosen as Donna Anna, a role I have sung in concert and will be so happy to revisit in a full production with a very exciting team, including acclaimed Hungarian director Róbert Alföldi and German-Mexican conductor Michael Meissner.