Cosí fan tutte programme book 2023

JELLA CULLAGH...
WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER FROM THE
FIRST OPERA YOU SANG IN?
Gosh! I was extraordinarily fortunate. A lot
of people go to music college and do music
in university. I went straight from school
into work, a job. And at the time there were
a lot of amateur dramatic musical societies
and I always joked that I killed off amateur
dramatic work in Cork, because I got the tail
end of that. I appeared as a solo “artiste”
in about ten different productions in three
years. That’s a lot, Gilbert and Sullivan, and
Cara O’Sullivan [Cork soprano, 1962–2021]
and myself were in a Lehár operetta. By the
time I went to the National Opera Studio
in London, I was the only one not to have
come out of full-time music education. But
in a way I was more advanced. Because I’d
learnt by treading the boards with people
like James N Healy [1916–93, Cork actor,
writer and producer] in Gilbert and Sullivan,
and lots of other people. By the time I had
my first professional engagement, I was a
pretty seasoned performer. And one of the
very, very first professional engagements
I had was singing Musetta in Puccini’s La
bohème for Opera Ireland, after I came out
of the National Opera Studio. Which, hold on
to your seat, was in 1993. Little did I know
then that, 30 years later, I’d still be singing
and performing. I’m so proud of that. Regina
Nathan was Mimì. It was just wonderful. The
chorus at the time was a mixture, more or
less an amateur chorus. There were stalwart
singers like Frank O’Brien around. They
were so encouraging, so proud that here was
another young Irish singer on the way. I did a
lot of Musettas then and then not again for ten
years. And one of my scariest moments was
doing the role in the Royal Albert Hall, directed
by Francesca Zambello. It was opera in the
round with roller-skating waiters, set in Paris
around 1947. I had the amazing, Lana Turneresque
hair and had to walk on a table singing
“Quando m’en vo”. I would put out my foot
and a table would appear by the time I put my
foot down. I walked across the middle of the
Albert Hall not seeing anything in front of me,
but walking, and the table would miraculously
appear each time I put my foot down.
WHAT WAS THE BEST OPERA-RELATED
ADVICE YOU EVER GOT?
There were lots of little moments along the
way, for different reasons. One of the best
pieces of advice was to shut up, basically. I
was singing Donizetti’s Roberto Devereux for
Opera Holland Park, and Richard Bonynge
was conducting. When I was in my dressing
room, warming up my voice, I’d hear a little
knock at the door. Richard Bonynge would be
there with his finger up to his mouth, going
“Shush”. Basically telling me not to keep
singing. Because it’s something that singers
do. Once you warm up your voice, you should
be done, and you should be cooked, and you
should just relax. It’s a nervous tic. Singers
just tend to keep vocalising in the dressing
room, keeping it going. You’re just tiring
yourself out and it’s unnecessary. He was so
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