The Down-to-earth Dame
THE SUNDAY AGE
Sunday January 24, 1993
FEW divas would go to the opening of a loo. Dame Kiri Te Kanawa had no reservations when she recently accepted an invitation from an old friend to declare open his new bathroom. And so it was that the world's most famous soprano mixed easily with the tilers, carpenters and painters who had built Max Cryer's bathroom in Auckland.
``It was just a case of one professional mixing with others," says Mr Cryer, a broadcaster and a friend of Dame Kiri's for more than three decades. ``I think the story underlines what a wonderful, down-to- earth person she really is." Her feet may be planted on the ground but her voice has carried her and the millions who have heard it to heaven. It is a voice that has captivated both her critics and her peers. ``It is such a lovely, warm voice, always such a beautiful sound," says Dame Joan Sutherland. ``My husband and I have always adored it.
``And she is what everyone expects a character to look like. She is very fortunate in that respect." Dame Kiri arrested the world of opera when she appeared as the Countess in `The Marriage of Figaro' at Covent Garden in 1971. Ten years later she brought her unique sound to more than 600 million people worldwide when she sang at the wedding of Prince Charles to Lady Diana Spencer. Her voice has proved more enduring than the marriage.
For the past few weeks, Dame Kiri has been holidaying in New Zealand in the warm embrace of her family and close friends, pursuing the activities she loves: fishing, tennis and cooking. On Saturday she returns to work in Victoria to perform at Werribee Park before a 12,000-strong audience. Such is the pattern of her life.
If it is her voice that has made her famous around the world, it is her remarkable ordinariness that has endeared her to so many. She has a passion for Vegemite and Vogel bread and a fastidiousness about having clean floors. She will leave cupboard doors ajar but if there is a mark on her kitchen floor, she will clear the room and go to work with her mop.
Given the exquisiteness of her voice, it has often been said that Dame Kiri was destined for greatness. In truth, fate played a big hand.
Abandoned at six weeks, she was offered to Thomas Te Kanawa, a Maori building contractor, and his Anglo-Irish wife, Nell, by welfare office staff in Gisborne, a North Island port town. At first they declined to take the child as they wanted to adopt a baby boy. However, when the welfare office returned with Kiri several weeks later and asked the Te Kanawas to reconsider, they said yes. It was a blessed decision for the child.
``It was a remarkable house," recalls Mr Cryer. ``Her mother played the piano and had a great deal of knowledge about the music scene, at home and internationally. Her father was a Maori aristocrat of extraordinary grace. She grew up in a home where she was surrounded by music, organisation and style. I have often looked at her and seen the outcome of those two people who brought her up.
``The adoption was important in that by sheer good luck she went into a home where this streak of talent she was born with was allowed to develop with the help of her mother and father." Maoris are renowned for their strong sense of family, and Dame Kiri is no exception. When her mother died, her father spent long periods with her family in London. One of the more celebrated stories about him was the time he tried to pass through customs in London with a chainsaw under his arm. He explained that he needed to trim his daughter's hedge and believed his own chainsaw to be far superior to anything that was available in England.
Kiri was a 23-year-old student at the London Opera Centre when she met the man who was to become her closest friend and probably the strongest influence in her life. She met Desmond Park on a blind date and married him six weeks later. Raewyn Blade, now Mrs Raewyn Sprinz, was with Dame Kiri on that Saturday afternoon outside the Swan and Edgar store at Piccadilly Circus in London.
``They just naturally gravitated towards one another," she recalls.
``I remember it was late afternoon and we must have gone off for a drink and we certainly went for a meal. As the evening progressed, we split up _ the details of which I will not reveal. It was the '60s and everything was healthy and above board in those days." Dame Kiri was sharing a flat _ dubbed the Pink Palace because of the color of its walls _ in Forest Hill with Raewyn and Sally Sloman, who would become her chief bridesmaid. ``We had some terrific times," says Mrs Sprinz. ``Later we moved to a mews in London and the contrast was just amazing. At that wonderful place _ it was just incredible _ we had Chippendale chairs and Woolworth's ashtrays." The three girls had met at St Mary's College in New Zealand, where they had all studied singing under Dame Sister Mary Leo. ``Kiri was such fun to be with," recalls Mrs Sloman. ``We shared an interest in music but we didn't talk about it all the time. She has always been very keen on the outdoors.
``From the very beginning, she had an aura about her. Heads would turn when she opened her mouth. It was the tone of her voice which was so much richer and warmer than most. There were a lot of very good singers at St Mary's, but her voice had a distinictive quality." Dame Kiri's facility to draw a line of demarcation between her home and work life has fascinated people. ``We hardly ever talk about music and singing," says Mrs Sloman. ``We tend to talk about the boring things housewives talk about _ how to make scones, recipes for this or that.
``I remember one particular phone call I had from Kiri when she asked me what I was doing. I said I was listening to a piece of Wagner that was conducted by Sir George Solti. I am an ardent fan of his and began telling her how wonderful I thought this piece was. And Kiri just casually said, `Oh, I'm seeing him on Wednesday. I'll tell him.' When I then asked her what she was doing, she said, `I'm making quince jam.' I just thought how ironic the whole thing was." Home life has always been pivotal to Dame Kiri's happiness. Shortly after she sang at the royal wedding, she considered abandoning her career because she was not spending enough time with her family. The couple has two adopted children. Mr Park, an engineer, was working in locations such as Saudi Arabia while his wife was singing in some other part of the world. ``She was on the verge of giving it all away," says one friend. Instead, Mr Park decided to put his career on hold and to become her manager.
``He is a very down-to-earth person," says Dame Kiri. ``He likes being very organised."There is only one big area of difference. ``We are totally incompatible when it comes to shopping," she says. ``He loathes it; I love it.
``But we both love the outdoor life, family and privacy. We are not people who have to be seen at certain parties. We are not people collectors. We are a simple couple that likes to be with old and dear friends.
``My husband and I don't enjoy meeting and socialising very much. We don't get an enormous amount of pleasure from meeting people we won't see again." James Erskine, managing director of IMG Australia, New Zealand and South-East Asia, met Dame Kiri shortly after he moved to Australia in 1979. ``I knew nothing about opera at all," he recalls. ``I could spell opera and that was it. I used to say things to her like, `I'll see you at half-time' or `We'll meet in the stadium' instead of the auditorium. I still get those things thrown back at me today. We get on like a house on fire and Des and I have become good friends.
``She is very easy to deal with. She has strong ideas of what she wants to do and how she wants to be perceived. She always wants to make sure that ticket prices are affordable. She likes bringing opera to the masses. She is not elitist." HER manager _ and husband _ can be more exacting. ``Des can be abrupt," says Mr Erskine. ``We have had some fairly major rows on the telephone. But, at the end of the day, one of us will call back and say, `Wasn't that stupid?' He is very supportive of her and from experience knows what works and what doesn't." Mr Erskine says the couple's lack of pretension is a stabilising force not only on its family but on the people around them. ``I have never seen her get into any sort of tantrum. She plans her life and career around her family. Certain months of the year are just off limits for work. She has not been trapped in that superstar net. She is a very normal person who happens to be probably the number one soprano in the world today." Dame Kiri's approach to her work is almost legendary. Although she regards her career as a job and sees herself as an entertainer, she takes every possible precaution to protect the voice. She refuses to be in the company of smokers and is careful about kissing people because of the germs she might pick up. Her work is scheduled so that she will sing only once in four days. Experts say the precautions have paid dividends; at 48 her voice is still almost untouched by time.
Stephen Barlow, conductor at the Werribee Park concert, says Dame Kiri is a dream to work with. They first worked together in 1989. ``Our profession is so gossipy and one gets legions of opinions about people," he says. ``The first thing that struck me about her was how hard she worked. She was prepared to come back call after call after call. One rarely gets to practise in such detail with an artist of her calibre." Mr Barlow says that while Dame Kiri comes with a strong instinct about the music she sings, she is receptive to other people's views. ``I find her a very easy collaborator." Superstardom has not dimmed her sense of fun. Joan Carden has particularly fond memories of the early days. Both women were feeling nervous during the filming of `La Boheme' for television and decided to relax by ``horsing around" in the corridors. ``We both climbed into one of those big costume skips and pretended we were dogs. It was the only thing we could think of to do to keep the adrenalin flowing during the intervals. I have some lovely photos of that occasion." Dame Joan Sutherland says Dame Kiri has always been ``a happy-go- lucky" person. ``She has worked very hard," she says. ``I admire her particularly for the way she has managed to keep her little family together. So many singers miss out on family life ...
``One has to have one's feet very firmly on the ground. That is how it is with Kiri. She has no illusions about fame and success. She is not carried away on the wave of adulation of fans and critics. You have to know who you are and get on with it." Although she enjoys the challenges of her work, Dame Kiri admits there are sacrifices. She laments the lack of spontaneity in her life. And while she has no immediate plans for retirement, she does consider it.
``I do think about it and quite seriously," she explains. ``Everyone gets to a certain time where they have to think about what their professional life has been and what will come. I will probably decide (to retire) at the last minute. I want to live a bit, do things.
``Quite often when I am tired, I get the urge to give it away. But people are relying on me to perform and you just have to shake off those feelings."
© 1993 THE SUNDAY AGE
