This article was updated in September 2024.
When Covid struck New York in March 2020, soprano Lisette Oropesa was four performances into a run of La traviata at The Metropolitan Opera. Opening night had seen The New York Times critic rave about her “exquisite singing, youthful allure, affecting vulnerability and, by the end, bleak intensity”. Little did she know her next performance wouldn’t be until four months later – still as Violetta – on a chequerboard set with singers restricted to specific zones and with a chorus wearing face masks.
“We heard about the Met cancellation on social media,” Oropesa tells me over Skype from Munich [in September 2020]. “I go straight for the jugular. I’m not passive about things, so I tried to find out why an email didn’t get sent out.” Worldwide, there has been a lot of criticism from singers about the way they’ve discovered cancelled contracts. “Even though a mass email feels impersonal, it is nicer to tell your artists and employees ahead of it being announced on social media. I guess a lot of companies were flying by the seat of their pants. I then had a call to tell me the run of Traviata was finished, so I could go home. My Airbnb apartment was rented for another two weeks – and Manhattan is not a cheap city – so I had to absorb that cost completely.” And no show means no payment. “With force majeure, we didn’t even get the whiff of a dollar!’
With her scheduled Lucia di Lammermoor also cancelled at Bayerisches Staatsoper, Oropesa headed home to Baton Rouge in Louisiana, where she immediately got in touch with the union AGMA (American Guild of Musical Artists), which has a relief fund for artists, to ask them to raise the $1000 cap. “A lot of people didn’t know it even existed. We got the cap temporarily raised to $2000.” Oropesa then got involved with other singers to try to improve the situation for soloists. “AGMA represents the soloists, the chorus and stage directors, but what we as soloists get out of AGMA for what we put in is not the same as what choristers get. After weeks of Zoom meetings, it started to get very ugly, so I felt I had to find other ways to be useful during this time. I was spending a lot of time fighting and feeling very angry and very defeated. Emotions were running very high, so I left the soloists coalition, escaped to Santa Fe for a few months and focused my efforts elsewhere.”
Those efforts were directed towards masterclasses conducted via Zoom… not just one or two, but an incredible 58 by mid-August. It’s a highly organised operation involving sign-ups, mailing systems, lesson plans and guest teachers. “Teaching is exhausting!” she exclaims, but is clearly enthused by it.
Next came the call from Teatro Real. Well, two calls. The first was to cancel their Traviata production scheduled for May, but they were optimistic it could go ahead in July, so Oropesa was told to “hang tight”. In June, the call came to fly to Madrid, quarantine for 14 days and start rehearsals. Oropesa was hesitant.
“I didn’t feel comfortable flying at that point. I’d have had to go home and fly from Louisiana, but there were no direct flights. The whole thought of it was like a black cloud. I feared that they’d have to cancel it anyway and I’d be stuck there. I was ready to just write off the summer.
“Well, they came back a couple of days later and said ‘We really want to have you. What if you come at the end of July?’ So I said okay, do your rehearsals, open in July and see if you have to cancel or not. What can I say, I’m a pessimistic person! I encourage others to be positive but in my heart I always fear the worst.
“They said they were going to do this socially-distanced production, nobody’s going to be touching, everyone’s going to be wearing masks, there’s going to be this whole concept. But everything I was reading in the media was that everything was going to be shut down for a year. Maybe two. ‘Choruses can’t be near each other! Human beings cannot sing in the midst of other human beings! Spit travels further than six feet!’ Everything I was reading was about how much of a disaster the music industry was becoming. How in hell was Teatro Real supposed to convince me that in Madrid it was all fine?!”