Sir Geraint Evans Welsh Greats

You come in here about an hour and a half before the curtain goes up.

And as you're making up, you gradually feel

that you're getting into the part, into the part of Leporello.

It's surprising how makeup and wigs help to create that character.

Sir Geraint Evans achieved international fame,

not only for his outstanding voice,

but also for his ability to enter into a role

as easily as he could slip into a costume.

You see how it alters?

SINGS IN ITALIAN

He's one of the leading baritones of our day,

and perhaps of any day.

His musicianship is magnificent.

He's a superb comic artist, which often goes with sloppy musicality.

Not with Geraint.

He is very much a star, but he is not a prima donna at all.

I have never heard anybody tell any story about Geraint

to his discredit in a way of showing off,

demanding impossible things or tantrums backstage,

which, as you know, the opera is absolutely full of.

He has a personality so well liked by everybody

that they will go through thick and thin for him

to do what he wants them to do.

As an aspiring young singer who grew up just a few miles from here,

Sir Geraint Evans was an inspiration to me.

He was living proof that a valleys boy

could become an international star in the opera world.

His talent blazed a trail from Covent Garden to La Scala

and the New York Met.

But it was here that the first spark was ignited,

in the mining village of Cilfynydd.

Geraint Evans was born in 1922 in William Street, Cilfynydd,

just a few miles from Pontypridd.

Following the death of his mother when he was just 18 months old,

Geraint was raised by his grandparents.

It wasn't easy raising a child in South Wales in the '20s.

I was born in the time when things were very rough

when the strikes were on.

And, er, the difficulty of bringing up children,

of having things for them to wear.

In fact, I remember, I can just remember

going to the soup kitchens in the chapel.

And life was tough.

But our parents struggled

and gave us all and everything they could.

Because the important thing for them was that we had a good education.

Geraint's father was a miner and amateur conductor

who would lead Pontypridd Male Voice choir.

For Geraint, music was part and parcel of life in Cilfynydd.

What's your first memory of singing?

It's difficult to know.

I think one is on... One had to recite at the age of...

well, as soon as one was able to speak. Say, three years of age.

And one also sang folk songs at the age of three.

You had to learn folk songs, hymns, tunes, anthems, you know.

Geraint loved music from an early age.

His grandparents didn't own a gramophone,

so he listened to records at the home of friend, Brenda Davies,

who was later to play an important role in his life.

We were born just a few doors away from each other.

As children, you saw each other constantly.

Did you say it there...?

No. She didn't look at me then. She didn't look at me at all.

Let's hear what Brenda's got to say.

I tried to get him married off to lots of people.

He spent a lot of time in our house.

If he'd quarrelled with a girlfriend, he'd come in.

And I'd say, "Make it up. Don't be so miserable."

After leaving school,

Geraint found work in a ladies' outfitters in Pontypridd.

This town, which gave birth to the Welsh national anthem,

was proud of its musical heritage.

Its numerous amateur societies provided fertile ground

for the development of Geraint's talents.

Like most people in Wales we did amateur dramatics,

amateur musical societies, the amateur-operatic society.

I was in them all.

A seed has to be planted.

Now, without the eisteddfods, without the amateur societies,

where does the seed start?

Usually, it's somebody saying to someone else,

"You have got a good voice. You should do something about it".

And it was a former opera singer from Pontypridd

who first spotted Geraint's potential.

There was a wonderful man in Pontypridd

called Bert Gregory Evans

who had been the old Caruso many years ago.

DEEP VOICE: He always spoke like that.

He had a waxed moustache. Very elegant.

And he said to my father,

"I think that boy ought to go in for singing".

But my father had noticed this, anyway.

So eventually I went and had singing lessons

to Idloes Owen in Cardiff.

And I didn't know, I didn't know until a few years later

that my father, who was out of work at that time,

borrowed money for me to go and have singing lessons.

Every Thursday afternoon after early closing at the shop,

Geraint would catch the train to Cardiff to study with Idloes Owen.

These lessons helped prepare him for his biggest role yet.

At the tender age of 17, Geraint performed the title role

in his chapel's production of Mendelssohn's Elijah.

It was performed in character and in full costume

here at the old Cilfynydd Working Men's hall.

The concert was sold out.

It was so well received that an extra performance was put on.

Just as Geraint was starting to make a name for himself, war broke out.

He volunteered for the RAF.

He was sent off to France just a few weeks after D-Day.

Shortly after the liberation of Brussels,

Geraint was given his first pass home.

One evening, when Geraint was home on leave,

he went dancing with a group of friends that included Brenda Davies,

who lived just down the street here at number 78.

It was a miserable night and they all got soaked.

But later, Brenda and Geraint sat up and talked the night away.

As the hours flew by, something changed between them.

After returning to his unit,

Geraint began to realise that Brenda was the girl for him.

His future was falling into place.

It was at this point that his career took a decisive turn,

with his transfer to the allied forces' radio service.

I know war is a terrible thing, but it did one or two people good.

It's difficult to say that it did some people good.

But I was, in '46, working in the British Forces' Network in Hamburg,

and I went to a German singer who taught me to sing, Theo Hermann.

And, er... The type of man who used to slap me if I was wrong

and kiss me if I was right, which did me the world of good.

Was he the inspiration?

Also, my colleagues at Hamburg, at the British Forces Network.

They said, "You must go in for this, seriously".

After he was demobbed, with the help of a grant for ex-servicemen,

Geraint was accepted at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama.

He hadn't been there long before his old teacher reappeared in his life

and changed it for good.

Hermann heard that Covent Garden were looking for a bass.

Geraint auditioned, and two days later

he became a member of the Covent Garden Opera Company,

earning the princely sum of £12 a week.

It was the start of an association that would last a lifetime.

Geraint's first performance at Covent Garden

was in Wagner's Die Meistersinger.

A big contingent of family and friends

made the trip from Cilfynydd to London for the opening night

including Brenda Davies, soon to become Mrs Brenda Evans.

Do you remember the first time you stepped onstage?

-Well, I remember being pushed on.

-Me, too.

I remember doing this and singing a few lines.

Only a few lines, I had to sing.

I was an old man, a night watchman walking across.

And having sung my lines, I was still walking, and, er,

before I knew it, somebody touched me on the shoulder and said,

"You'd better stop or you'll be in Bow Street police station".

I was actually walking through the props department.

No matter where Geraint's career took him,

the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden was always his home.

He said of it, "This is where I was brought up.

"This is where I was born as a singer."

I remember, er,...

..going with an old opera singer, Percy Hemings,

upstairs to one of the rooms in the Opera House.

He said to me first,

"Geraint, I think you need a little bit of polishing here and there.

"You're a rough diamond."

Which was quite true, after all.

Damn it, I played rugby...

..in Wales there.

I sorted out my differences up the common or up the mountain.

So the environment of that time

possibly wasn't suitable for the environment of the Opera House.

Anyway, I went up to the room with Percy Hemings and he said,

"I want you now to start basic ballet movements".

Well, you can imagine my feeling. Oh, my goodness me.

So here I was, starting doing this...

..and this.

As if I had a silk scarf in my hand.

And my feet movement as well.

I was very nervous because I made sure the doors were locked.

I couldn't stand the feeling that my friends would see me doing this.

But really and truly, it paid off dividends.

By the time Geraint appeared in The Magic Flute at Covent Garden in '53,

the effects of all that polishing were clear to see.

The rough diamond from the valleys now sparkled

as the comic bird-catcher, Papageno.

SINGS IN GERMAN

The parts that Geraint played at the Royal Opera House

stand as a testament to his impressive dramatic range.

While he was noted as a singer of Mozart

for roles such as Papageno in The Magic Flute,

Leporello in Don Giovanni

and Figaro in The Marriage of Figaro,

he was equally at home with Bizet, Verdi or Britten.

The crowning achievement of Geraint's early career

came not at Covent Garden,

but in the heart of the Sussex countryside.

In 1957, Geraint was invited to play the role of Falstaff

at the world-renowned Glyndebourne Festival.

This, more than any other role, would define his career.

But it would take a lot of hard work and unusual inspiration

to create the larger-than-life character of Sir John Falstaff.

The difficulty I had,

and I experienced in the early rehearsals,

was how to walk like a big man.

And how a big man moved his hands,

or where his hands dropped at the side of his body.

My eldest son, who was then two or something like that,

was still at the end of the nappy period.

And I saw him trotting along one day and I thought, "My goodness".

He was very well built for a child.

A bonny, bouncing baby.

And there was this nappy wrapped around, you know.

And I thought, "My goodness".

So I watched him for a while.

So, indeed, the last few rehearsals that I...

..that I did before putting on the costume,

I worked with a blanket between my legs.

I was very sore, but it was well worth it.

Because I experienced the walk of this big man.

SINGS IN ITALIAN

Geraint made his debut as Falstaff on a hot June evening.

When he took his final bow,

encased in foam padding and dripping with sweat,

he was applauded not only by the audience, but the chorus, orchestra

and his fellow principles.

He said, "It was something I shall never forget.

"The sort of thing every performer dreams of getting."

There was more to come.

In 1960, Geraint was invited to sing Mozart's Figaro at La Scala,

the spiritual home of Italian opera.

It was the first time in 35 years

that a British singer sang a lead role

at Milan's world-famous opera house.

A group of stagehands were overheard talking about Geraint.

They were puzzled.

This man sang Italian extremely well,

he even looked Italian.

Yet, with a name like Evans,

he didn't come from anywhere near Milan.

After a heated discussion, they came to the obvious conclusion.

He must be Sicilian.

SINGS IN ITALIAN

Playing Figaro of Falstaff, Geraint was one of the first performers

to bring a sense of dramatic characterization to opera.

He'd always held an ambition to pass on something of what he'd learnt

during his years on stage to the next generation.

What I would like to do is to teach young singers roles,

individual teaching, not so much singing, teaching of singing

but teach them a part.

Geraint got the chance to do just that in 1967

when he was invited to give a master class in front of BBC Wales cameras

as part of a summer school at Dinefwr Castle.

# The king appoints you

# Ambassador in London

# I go as...

You see, I've got a feeling.

The king appoints you ambassador in London.

I was the courier.

My Susanna!

What game is he playing?

How dare you?

This is the beginning of the 'se vuol ballare'.

You've got to feel this leading up to the aria.

Se vuol... This is what I'm after, ladies and gentlemen.

I'm going to make the count jump as high as I can make him do it.

Ptish!

# Se vuol ballare

# Signor contino

# Se vuol ballare, signor contino

# Il chitarrino le suonero...#

I know the Italian gives that...

I know you can't do it English as good as that

but it can be done.

# If you are after a little amusement

# If you are after a little amusement

# You may go dancing but I'll play the tune

# You may go dancing I'll play the tune

# Yes, I'll play the tune

# Yes! I'll play the tune.#

You needn't say any more. You've said it all.

Geraint's contribution to opera as a mentor and performer

was recognised soon afterwards.

In 1969 he was knighted.

No matter how high he rose during his career

when he wanted to come back down to earth, it was to Wales he returned.

Although Geraint was born and brought up in Cilfynydd

his family's roots lay in the West.

All of his grandparents had been Cardies

and it was in Aberaeron that he found peace during this period

far from the demands of his working life.

I actually came about eight years ago on holiday with my family here.

In a way I stumbled across my childhood again

because I used to come down here as a boy...

..seven, eight years of age for holidays.

I felt a terrific draw towards the place.

My children loved it down here.

My wife loves it down here.

I thought, "If I've got to retire, this is where I'll retire to."

With a house on Aberaeron harbour

it would have been crime not to buy a boat to go with it.

I have a boat which is very suitable for this harbour.

When I'm out there I can just relax, forget about everything

and sing if I want to. If I'm not singing well, it doesn't matter.

-We all join in.

-There's not a critic within 100 miles.

-That's true!

Unless they're damn good swimmers.

Back in the real world Sir Geraint schooled young singers

in roles such as that of Don Giovanni's manservant, Laparello,

seen here reciting a catalogue of his master's sexual conquests.

# But in Spain here...#

OK, if you're going to do this.

If he does this, now this is your chance for a good luck.

GASPS

He'll see you looking.

So if you drop this...

Give me a "Here is Italy" or something.

# Here is Italy Six hundred and forty

# Next comes Germany More than two hundred

# France and Turkey Have each over ninety

# Oooh but in Spain

# But in Spain here, One thousand and three

# Thousand and three

# Thousand and three.#

-OK?

-Yes.

As a student at Trinity College of Music

I was lucky enough to take part in a masterclass given by Sir Geraint.

It was an experience I'll never forget.

I was playing Mozart's Figaro, one of Sir Geraint's signature roles

and I remember him demonstrating the female role of Marcellina.

He had no costume of make-up, he simply picked up a walking stick

made an entrance and he was the crotchety old woman.

But as convincing Sir Geraint might be without costumes or props

with them he was something else.

Wardrobe and make-up were central to the way that he built a character

as when he played the poor soldier Wozzeck

in Berg's opera of the same name.

I hate wearing new costumes, brand new costumes.

I feel it is necessary to wear a costume that has been lived in.

I start from the feet up.

The voice comes from the feet, everything comes from the feet.

Your movement, everything.

I always think that whatever part I'm doing

I must have the right pair of shoes.

If I'm doing a certain part, tight shoes.

If I'm doing Wozzeck, big clomping shoes.

It creates the character.

Have you got long johns?

The physicality of Sir Geraint's characterizations

was plain to see in parts such as the ageing bachelor

in Donizetti's opera, Don Pasquale.

SINGS IN GERMAN

Despite his robust performances,

Sir Geraint faced health problems during the late 1970s.

In 1979 during rehearsals at Covent Garden

he suffered a blocked artery.

I fought hard for about 10 minutes, really.

I think if I hadn't been a singer

with the art of breathing in various places,

I don't think I'd be here talking to you now.

By the 1980s, Sir Geraint could boast a career

that spanned five decades stretching all the way back

to his first performance as the Night Watchman in 1947.

He'd always vowed he'd bow out of opera while at the top of his game.

He now felt that time had come.

I don't enjoy it so much now because it's getting harder.

It's like an athlete, it's like a rugby player, soccer player

that when they come to a certain age to get down to the end of the field

it seems twice as long these days.

That's what's happening now. It happens to us all.

This is my last season here.

I regret in a way that it is my last but all good things come to an end.

I feel I'd rather finish on top rather than deteriorate

to an extent that one feels sorry for that fellow on the stage and

"I remember he used to be not too bad

"but now he's no damn good at all."

In 1984 Sir Geraint gave his final performance at Covent Garden.

The audience here representing tens of thousands of opera lovers

came to say thank you and farewell to a man

that's been a pillar of Covent Garden since the War.

Sir Geraint Evans is loved as much as he's admired not just here

but at scores of opera houses around the world.

This evening, as the most celebrated quack doctor in opera

he rounded off a career that started 36 years ago.

SINGS IN ITALIAN

When the opera drew to a close about an hour or so ago

and the curtain fell, there was a glorious uproar.

CHEERS AND APPLAUSE

The ovation went on for minute after minute.

We were saying thank you for a life's work.

Inevitably Sir Geraint had to say something to the audience

he never let down in nearly four decades.

So much music has passed over the last 36 years for me.

It's gone so quickly.

And one of the...

One of the things that have moved me a lot over the last few weeks

of having letters from parents, grandparents

saying that they hope to bring their grandchildren or their children here

over the last seven performances.

That to me is success.

And finally the moment that really brought the tears.

The orchestra struck up the Welsh national anthem

and soloists, chorus and audience joined in this tribute

to Wales' great son.

CHEERING

A life that had brought such joy to so many people came to an end

on the 19th September 1992.

The Welsh opera singer, Sir Geraint Evans,

has died in hospital in Aberystwyth after suffering a heart attack.

It seems strangely appropriate that when I heard the sad news

of Sir Geraint's death, I was in my dressing room in an opera house.

I was in Seattle, about to go on stage to make my US debut

as Rossini's Figaro in The Barber of Seville.

There I was about to play this character

whose name had become synonymous with that of Sir Geraint.

As I waited in the wings I took a final moment

to dedicate my performance to the memory of a unique character

whose voice will echo through time as long as men sing.

SINGS IN ITALIAN

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd