That this career would not ultimately testify to the achievements of a revolver-lathe operator at the Finommechanikai Művek (Fine Mechanics Factory) was due, alongside the talent and diligence of Lajos Miller, to the decisive support of his earliest musical mentors: Emília Posszert (singing teacher) and László Horváth (music teacher in Sümeg), who prepared the then still technically untrained “electrical instrument mechanic apprentice” for his entrance examination to the Liszt Academy. Both the entrance exam and his professional beginnings unfolded smoothly, free from anxiety. The “try and see” shift in career direction happened with a natural momentum, and he overcame the early hurdles – examinations, the excitement of learning roles – with the same confident energy. What were dreams of studying at the Testnevelési Egyetem (University of Physical Education, Budapest, today Hungarian University of Sports Science) compared with making his debut as Horatio in 1968 on the stage of the Hungarian State Opera House in Sándor Szokolay’s opera Hamlet. He performed the role, as was noted at the time, with an “appropriate sense of weight”. [1]
Although he was not lacking classical roles at the beginning of his career, alongside Hamlet he was frequently cast in contemporary Hungarian operas. In the following year he appeared in Emil Petrovics’ Bűn és bűnhődés (Crime and Punishment) in the episodic role of Razumikhin. In December 1970, the Hungarian State Opera premiered György Ránki’s mystery-opera Az ember tragédiája (The Tragedy of Man), composed after Imre Madách’s classic drama. Miller’s growing artistic maturity was plain to hear: his “healthy, ringing baritone” carried the “considerable vocal demands of the role of Adam with sustained vigour”, while his stage presence was marked by “likeable ardour and a directness springing from within” – as reported by János Lózsy in Népszabadság. [2]
In 1972, in another of Ránki’s works, Pomádé király új ruhája (King Pomade’s New Clothes), his portrayal of Béni impressed critics with its “youthful energy” and “lively playfulness”. [3] After portraying some of the great heroes of the operatic repertoire, he performed the role of the king in the premiere of Sándor Szokolay’s Szávitri (1999). Tibor Tallián wrote that the new role once again “drew into rank the baritoneal dignity and personal authority of a singer in impeccable vocal disposition”. [4]
In 2001, the Hungarian State Opera revived the opera first staged some forty years earlier, C’est la guerre, by Emil Petrovics and Miklós Hubay, with Miller in the role of the Major. In the spring of the millennium, Domonkos Moldován, director of the Budapesti Kamaraopera (Budapest Chamber Opera), commissioned György Orbán to compose new music to the old Hungarianised comic-opera libretto Pikkó hertzeg és Jutka Perzsi (lit. Prince Pikkó and Jutka Perzsi). The revival, staged at the Várszínház (Castle Theatre), was judged unsuccessful by Tibor Tallián, who nevertheless singled out Miller’s portrayal of the Tatar Khan, praising the “refinement, elegance, the never mannered expressive power of the voice, and the ability to sustain the unity of the role”. [5]
Naturally, Hungarian classics also hold an important place in Miller’s rich repertoire. He was already assigned the role of Biberach in József Katona’s Bánk bán (Bánk bán / The Viceroy Bánk) in 1968, yet the major recognition came in 1980, when he appeared as Tiborc in the new production directed by László Vámos at the Erkel Theatre, where he was celebrated as “a master of emotional immersion and expressivity”. [6] His performance was recorded by Csaba Káel in his 2001 opera film, followed by a new stage production directed by Káel at the Hungarian State Opera the following year.
The audience could hear Miller perform the noble, folk-like melody of the suitor’s song in Zoltán Kodály’s Székelyfonó (The Spinning Room) in 1998. He was also twice given the opportunity to embody the title role of Kodály’s other great masterpiece, Háry János: first in 2001 in György Selmeczi’s production at the Millenáris Theatre, and again in 2004, when he joined Géza Oberfrank’s production at the Erkel Theatre.
Among the figures of the Russian operatic repertoire, it was first in the title role of Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin that the audience of the Hungarian State Opera saw him in 1971, alongside similarly young colleagues: Éva Marton (Tatiana), János Berkes (Lensky), and Kolos Kováts (Gremin). According to Iván Kertész, Miller’s technique at that time did not yet possess full ease, yet his “elegance” and the “means of emotional openness” already pointed to an excellent interpreter of the role. [7] To such an extent, in fact, that thirteen years later the leading qualities of his fully mature Onegin were summarised by Géza Fodor in the following way: “A striking personality, distinguished appearance and manner, a beautiful, clear-toned, evenly balanced voice, precise vocal shaping, stylish and accurate acting.” [8] As Onegin, he also appeared in Bratislava (1972), Monte Carlo (1985), Bonn (1987) and Santiago (1989).
At least as frequently present in his international repertoire was another Tchaikovsky hero, Prince Yeletsky from The Queen of Spades: first in Buenos Aires (1980), then Geneva (1982), Monte Carlo (1983), Philadelphia (1983), Washington (1989), and finally at La Scala in Milan (1990). [9] He performed the title role in Mazeppa only once, in a concert broadcast by Radio France in Paris in 1978. He sang the part of Fyodor Shaklovity at La Scala in Mussorgsky’s Khovanshchina in a production staged in 1981 by the renowned Russian director Yuri Lyubimov; despite favourable critical response, he performed the role only six times.
In 1986, he introduced himself in Paris to Mstislav Rostropovich and his wife Galina Vishnevskaya with Onegin’s aria. The Rostropoviches were at the time seeking a suitable baritone for the role of Andrei Bolkonsky in a concert performance of Sergei Prokofiev’s War and Peace. Miller’s interpretation was recorded by the French label Erato, alongside no lesser artists than Galina Vishnevskaya (Natasha), Nikola Gyuzelev (Kutuzov) and Nicolai Gedda (Anatole Kuragin). Under Rostropovich’s baton, the performance resulted in one of the most refined recorded productions of the opera.
Their collaboration continued the following year. After his earlier appearance as Andrei Shchelkalov at the Szegedi Szabadtéri Játékok (Szeged Open-Air Festival) in the 1971 production of Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov, he was invited to sing the role again in a concert performance at the Kennedy Center, Washington, which was likewise recorded by Erato. It was again under the Rostropoviches’ artistic direction that Rimsky-Korsakov’s The Tsar’s Bride was staged at the Teatro dell’Opera di Roma in November 1987. Miller, appearing here as Grigory, had by then become – with this being his sixth engagement – a valued guest artist of the Roman opera house. Their final collaboration was the 1989 Washington performance of Tchaikovsky’s The Queen of Spades.
The moment when a singer encounters a particular role is determined not so much by the stage of the voice’s development as by the needs of the opera house in question. An excellent example of this is Giuseppe Verdi’s “dark and harsh” Macbeth, a role known not to be the natural starting platform for young lyrical baritones. When director András Mikó cast Miller in the title role for the Hungarian State Opera production of 1973, not every critic agreed with the decision. János Kovács wrote: “The dagger monologue certainly presupposes a different kind of timbre and a different kind of energy; and so do several other key moments of the role.” Yet he acknowledged that “we are dealing with a talented singer who serves his task with dedication.”
The careful shaping of the vocal line, the beautiful pianissimi and the secure high fortes were noted consistently in reviews in Muzsika and Magyar Hírlap, testifying to a uniformly high artistic standard. The roles of Renato in Un ballo in maschera and Rodrigo, Marquis of Posa, in Don Carlos the following season were far closer to the natural character of Miller’s voice, as the tone of critical reception made equally clear. “It is as though he has gained new momentum, new wings; his Renato was rich in expressive power and most engaging in stage presence. It gives hope that we may see in him the future Verdi baritone: we await his further unfolding with attention!” wrote Péter Várnai, critic of Magyar Hírlap. [10] The success was due not least to the conductor János Ferencsik (then stepping down as chief music director with this performance).
Miller went on to perform Un ballo in maschera in major European and American houses: Munich (1975), Vienna (1979), Hamburg (with Katia Ricciarelli and José Carreras, 1976), Paris (1985), Rome (1985), Lyon (1985) and Montreal (1990). For Hungarian audiences, however, the most memorable performance remained Renata Scotto’s appearance as Amelia at the Erkel Theatre in 1975, where Renato was once again sung by Miller with an engaging disposition. [11]
His musically and dramatically finely articulated Marquis of Posa appeared most frequently in domestic productions, for example in the performance of Don Carlos on 21 June 1980, when he shared the stage with two Russian world stars: Elena Obraztsova
(Princess Eboli) and Evgeny Nesterenko (King Philip). [12] Another key role in his Verdi career was Don Carlo in La forza del destino. The intimacy of the lyrical passages and the rougher-edged tones of passion could already be heard in András Békés’ 1975 production, but the truly great success came at the Teatro dell’Opera di Roma, where, following his brilliant debut in 1982, he was entrusted with further Verdi heroes: the title role in Simon Boccanegra (1982), Rolando in La battaglia di Legnano (1983), and again Renato in Un ballo in maschera (1985). [13]
In Christoph Willibald Gluck’s Iphigénie en Tauride, after performances at the Siena Opera Festival and in Palermo (1975), he was entrusted with the role of Orestes again at the Teatro dell’Opera di Roma in 1986. The sequence of major Roman engagements concluded the following year with the already mentioned The Tsar’s Bride under the artistic direction of the Rostropoviches.
One of the most popular operatic heroes in which Lajos Miller’s talent revealed itself early, and which – through his success at the Treviso competition – opened the path to an international career, was Count Luna in Il trovatore. Nothing demonstrates this more clearly than the fact that by the time of the 1976 Budapest premiere, the young baritone had already made debuts in Bratislava, Munich and Vienna. His earliest performances, like his later, mature portrayals of Luna in Hamburg (1978), Houston (US debut, 1980), Caracas (1983), Brussels (1984), Leningrad (1987), and at the Metropolitan Opera in New York (1990), were all marked by a “secure musicality and heated dramatic force”. [14]
Another Verdi role entered his repertoire in 1976, when he sang Giacomo in Giovanna d’Arco at the Wexford Opera Festival in Ireland. The following year he stepped into the role of Giorgio Germont in the Hungarian State Opera revival of La traviata, conducted by Lamberto Gardelli. That same year he debuted at the Opéra-Comique in Paris in a production by Jorge Lavelli, but his greatest success came a decade later, in 1986, at the Palais Garnier, where La traviata was staged by Franco Zeffirelli under the baton of Zubin Mehta. Further performances of this role took him to Sofia (1978), Rouen (1979), Liège (1981), Trieste (1984), Hamburg (1986), St Gallen (1986), Messina (1989), and Tokyo during the State Opera’s tour in Japan in 1994.
Géza Fodor counted his Germont, who embodies “his worldview and life-principle with maximum passion, vehemence, and will-force”, among the most memorable portrayals in Hungarian operatic performance. [15]
A major milestone of Miller’s operatic career came in 1980. Verdi’s Ernani, under the direction of Gardelli, and Simon Boccanegra, prepared and conducted by Giuseppe Patané, brought him his greatest critical recognition to date. Péter Várnai, for instance, saw him twice as Don Carlos (Ernani) before writing in Muzsika that Miller “knows everything”.
“His voice is beautiful, sounding with equal richness at every dynamic level and in every register. His vocal technique is impeccable: he sings the wide legato arcs as perfectly as the short accented notes; the full compass of the voice is even, and the transition notes are imperceptible. Yet all this is only a means to him, as with every truly great singer: a means in the service of expression. […] He sings the ‘Vieni meco, sol di rose’ cavatina in an ideal piano, while carefully observing Verdi’s messa di voce indications – thus the cavatina becomes truly passionate and romantic. In the first part of the aria ‘O, de’ verd’anni miei’, his delivery is soft and noble cantabile, full of nostalgia for lost youth; when he arrives at the second section, which is more political in tone, his voice hardens, becomes grand and maestoso, and this striking emotional and vocal shift splendidly reveals the maturing of Charles V into a man. The dramatic articulation is matched by the acting, greatly supported by his heroic stage presence. A great performance!” [16]
The steady progression of roles provided a secure foundation; even at such artistic heights there was no danger, as critics noted, of “glory going to his head”. András Rajk put it plainly in Népszabadság: “This Simon Boccanegra, in both interpretation and singing, must be counted among the finest on any of the world’s opera stages.” [17] He had already demonstrated how the tormented, unhappy young man evolves into a self-assured and wise Doge in the Scottish Opera production of autumn 1979, performed in Glasgow, Liverpool, and Newcastle.
In 1981, at the invitation of Radio France, he sang Miller’s role in a concert performance of Luisa Miller, followed by his staged debut in the same opera later that year at the Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie in Brussels. In 1987, he took on the role of Iago in Otello at the Montreal Opera in a production by Antoine Vitez [Hungarian-born French director]. His debut as the Shakespearean villain reached Hungarian audiences only much later, in 1994. The premiere was a true celebratory event. The first two performances were conducted by Gardelli, and audiences at the Erkel Theatre saw László Vámos’ production with a remarkable cast: János B. Nagy (Otello) and Ilona Tokody (Desdemona). Miller’s “measured acting and full, resonant tone” formed the core of a chilling Iago. As Magyar Nemzet reported, “When he was alone on stage, enveloped in darkness and malice, his Mephistophelian figure seemed terrifying.” [18]
Among his “villainous triumphs” was also Lord Ashton in Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, whose “brilliant, unforced baritone” first captivated audiences at La Scala in 1983. [19] The essence of his commanding Scarpia in Puccini’s Tosca lay in the way he forged the role to suit his own temperament: “he did not portray the ageing, habit-ridden predator, but a man in full possession of power, coldly calculating, ablaze with desire and passion – especially in the dramatic crescendo of the second act, where his hardened ruthlessness and ensnaring cynicism stand fully revealed”, as István Albert summarised. [20]
He sang the title role in Nabucco in a concert performance at Teatro Colón, Buenos Aires, in 1988, but his Rigoletto was preserved only in Ádám Horváth’s opera film of 1987. He had been preparing with high expectations for Gábor Koltay’s 1992 Margaret Island staging, but illness forced him to withdraw. In 2005, however, he took on the role of Marullo, the cynical courtier, in Miklós Szinetár’s production – one of his final roles at the Erkel Theatre.
Over the course of nearly forty years, he gave voice to major and minor heroes of the operatic repertoire with unparalleled artistic dedication. After more than a dozen Verdi roles – fifteen, to be precise – it seems almost unbelievable that he was Wolfram and Onegin before he was Count Luna. Yet in every role he accepted and affirmed his own voice; he did not “broaden” or “darken” it artificially. He was able to find the wavelength of identification, the human core of each character. This straightforwardness and honesty, both toward his own abilities and toward the stage, guided him step by step up the hierarchy of operatic heroes. As László Dalos aptly phrased it on the occasion of his being awarded the Kossuth Prize (Hungary’s highest state arts honour): “The realm of human-scale, human-gesture Romanticism is his true world – noble bearing, intensely pure passion, and self-sacrifice that seeks no reward.” [21]
(2016)
[1] Imre Fábián: Hamlet, Film, Színház, Muzsika, 26 October 1968, pp. 2–4.
[2] János Lózsy: Az ember tragédiája operaszínpadon – Ránki György misztériumoperája (lit. The Tragedy of Man on the Opera Stage – György Ránki’s Mystery Opera), Népszabadság, 24 December 1970, p. 7.
[3] Ágnes Korda: Ránki György – Pomádé király új ruhája (lit. György Ránki – King Pomade’s New Clothes), Pest Megyei Hírlap, 4 January 1973.
[4] Tibor Tallián: Kiválasztott hölgy (lit. Chosen Lady), Muzsika, March 1999.
[5] Tibor Tallián: Nagy opera, kis opera (lit. Grand Opera, Small Opera), Muzsika, May 2000.
[6] Péter Várnai: Hagyományhűség és kevesebb pátosz (lit. Fidelity to Tradition and Less Pathos), Magyar Hírlap, 8 May 1980.
[7] Iván Kertész: Repertoárdarabok felfrissítése az Operaházban és az Erkel Színházban (lit. Refreshing Repertory Pieces at the Opera House and the Erkel Theatre), Muzsika, February 1972, p. 30.
[8] Géza Fodor: Anyegin (lit. Eugene Onegin), Muzsika, March 1985, p. 34.
[9] Television recording of the performance at the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, 14 October 1983. DVD (Video), Premiere Opera Ltd., DVD 5203.
[10] Péter Várnai: Méltó búcsúzás – Az Álarcosbál az Erkel Színházban (lit. A Worthy Farewell – Un ballo in maschera at the Erkel Theatre), Magyar Hírlap, 3 January 1974.
[11] István Albert: Renata Scotto – új szerepkörben (lit. Renata Scotto in a New Role), Film, Színház, Muzsika, 15 March 1975.
[12] Vendégeink: Obraczova és Nyeszterenko (lit. Our Guest Artists: Obraztsova and Nesterenko), Muzsika, November 1980, pp. 15–16.
[13] István Albert: A végzet hatalma – új szereplőkkel (lit. La forza del destino – With New Cast Members), Film, Színház, Muzsika, 11 October 1975.
[14] István Albert: Nyári opera-esték – Margitszigeti Színpad: Trubadúr parádé (lit. Summer Opera Evenings – Margaret Island Stage: Trovatore Parade), Film, Színház, Muzsika, 21 July 1979.
[15] Lajos Fodor: Operai napló (lit. Opera Diary), Muzsika, February 1986, p. 30.
[16] Péter Várnai: Opera – Ernani, Muzsika, March 1980, pp. 11–12.
[17] András Rajk: Simon Boccanegra – Verdi remekműve az Erkel Színházban (lit. Simon Boccanegra – Verdi’s Masterpiece at the Erkel Theatre), Népszabadság, 24 December 1980.
[18] Ádám Bősze: Fehéren feketén – Az Operaház Otellója (lit. In Black and White – Otello at the Opera House), Magyar Nemzet, 17 November 1994.
[19] Andre Hunziker: Switzerland – Geneva. Review of Lucia di Lammermoor, Opera, January 1984.
[20] István Albert: Új szereplőkkel – Erkel Színház: Tosca (lit. With New Cast Members – Tosca at the Erkel Theatre), Film, Színház, Muzsika, 2 June 1979, p. 11.
[21] László Dalos: Öröm hallani (lit. A Joy to Hear), Film, Színház, Muzsika, 5 April 1980.