So he tells me—“how can one
not love the Mediterranean
and all its riches, from its
architecture to its gastronomy to
its smiling people?”
Talk of Paris moves me to the other burning question—
isn’t he afraid when he performs? “Who isn’t scared?
When people say they aren’t scared of having their body
ripped to pieces or seeing their loved ones killed they
cannot be serious—or they themselves have some sad
death wish. I am afraid and will try to avoid harm and in
fact always make sure there is better security. But what
we cannot do is let this fear win; if we do that we do exactly what the madmen want—to deprive us of that beautiful life we so earnestly love.”
Joseph Calleja (1st left) having a bit of fun backstage at the
Bavarian State Opera with Simon Keenlyside, Anna Netrebko
and Ildar Abdrazakov
He is coherent—and also vocal. Talk of the beauty of life
cannot make us forget the horrors that have hit the epicentre of culture which is Paris. He is angry at what has
hit the world—angry at these terrorists whose only aim,
according to Calleja, is for us to change our lifestyle,
our world. “It isn’t a coincidence that they targeted Paris
and hit at a football match, a restaurant and a rock concert. They want us to lose our liberty to enjoy all that we
do—from listening to a band playing to dining out. It’s
sad and frightening—and I believe we need to take action and make sure such people are not left to infiltrate
and live amongst us.”
Calleja has no ready solutions but he certainly believes
that all people living in the West should assimilate and
accept our traditions and ways of life. He is all for multi-culturalism and equality but he finds it unacceptable
that we cannot—or mustn’t—say happy Christmas during Christmas time. We cannot, according to Calleja,
change our traditions to appease others’ ideas or ideologies. We need to live in harmony but harmony does not
imply throwing away millennia of traditions.
INSIDER SPECIAL EDITION
Calleja believes Malta is the epitome of all that the Mediterranean is: in our size, miniscule and rather arid, we
have throughout the ages managed to reach unbelievable heights and he is overwhelmed by the talent that
comes out of this rock. He is a true believer in finding out talent and nurturing it—that is why he dedicates
so much time to the BOV Foundation. Recently he has
also lent his name—and time and energy—to the Calleja
Drake Foundation which helps in the singing and music spheres. For Calleja any help he can give to increase
awareness of art, in all its multifaceted forms, is an added part of beauty itself.
Being a sort of icon—he accepts me calling him this,
much against his wishes—and ambassador, he has to
make sure that he does not stray from giving a good example. His words, he knows, carry more weight than us
ordinary mortals. “Unlike mine,” I tell him, “another
Calleja, but all we share is a surname.” He half twinkles
his naughty smile and says that even my work and words
are famous.
My words are seen by just a few, and appreciated by less,
but hearing my namesake world-renowned tenor pay me
this compliment made me feel supremely proud. I walked
out of our meeting feeling that our ambassador doesn’t
just sing superbly, he also makes anything outrageous
sound normal. That sums up my idea of opera precisely.
2015
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