Over a cup of Viennese coffee and Sachertorte (German for chocolate cake with apricot filling) in her elegant salon in Vienna, the beautiful Lebanese-Austrian soprano Sona Ghazarian talked about her childhood in Beirut and her studies at the Lebanese Conservatory.
Lacking all the trappings traditionally attached to capricious, haughty divas, Ghazarian radiates kindness. In a captivating and gentle tone, she said, "If you want to hear a short story, I'd say: Vini, vidi, vici [I came, I saw, I conquered]."
But how did this daughter of Beirut, born on Sept. 2, 1945, into an Armenian family of intellectuals, music lovers and arts enthusiasts, get from her home in Zoqaq al-Blat to the biggest opera stages in Europe and the U.S.?
The eldest daughter of Hagop and Anahid Ghazarian attended the Evangelical Armenian College before graduating in psychology from the Beirut College for Women (BCW). At the age of three, her mother gave her her first piano lessons, and at seven she gave her first recital, already attracting good reviews in the press.
She then joined Michel Cheskinoff's piano class at the Lebanese Conservatory. Her other teachers were Toufic Succar, Boghos Gelalian, Georges Baz, Marc-Henri Mainguy, Salvator Arnita and Badia Sabra Haddad. The soprano remembers it like it was yesterday. With sparkling eyes, adjective after adjective escape from her mouth: “Emotion, communication, joy and, above all, passion.” These were the key words that, one fine day, prompted her to take singing lessons, she assured us.
So, one fine day, she naturally headed for the office of the director, Russian Nicolas Dale, to ask him to enroll her in the best singing teacher's class. Dale takes her two floors up, knocks on a door and an elegant lady emerges from the classroom. In the corridor, the principal asks, “This young lady would like to sing, could you see if she has a voice?”
That evening on her way home, Sona cheerfully announced to the Ghazarian family, “I've signed up for singing lessons!” It was her debut with Badia Sabra Haddad, and the happiest day of her life, she said.
About Badia Haddad...
Ghazarian studied with Badia Sabra Haddad for three years and a close bond developed between them. Haddad, having immediately recognized Ghazarian's incredible talent, helped her develop her beautiful voice and technique, which would later enable her to sing on the world's greatest stages. At the end of the third year, unusually but truly, she decided it was time for Ghazarian to take her singing exam.
On Monday June 27, 1967, at 10 a.m., a jury of more than 12 people awaited the shy, modest girl. The leading figures of the day were all there: Gelalian, Succar, Mainguy, Baz, etc., as well as conductor Raif Abillama, who immediately offered to accompany her on piano.
Ghazarian will never forget that day. Haddad had concocted quite a program for her, with pieces by Bach, Handel, Mozart, Rossini, Brahms, Schubert, Ravel, Debussy and Complainte de Toufic Succar. The young singer passed her exam with flying colors.
With her diploma in hand, her parents organized a recital with Abillama at the Salle Gulbenkian, followed by a second with the great pianist Henri Goraieb at the Casino du Liban, during which the Italian ambassador, won over by her voice, awarded her a scholarship.
Ghazarian went on to perfect her skills at the prestigious Accademia Musicale Chigiana Di Siena and the Accademia Santa Cecilia in Rome, where her talent soon came to the fore. At Chigiana, she obtained the rare “Diploma d'Honore” in Opera and Lied.
In 1970, the young woman entered the International Vocal Competition 's-Hertogenbosch (IVC) in Bois-le-Duc in the Netherlands, where she sang "Caro nome" from Verdi's opera "Rigoletto" in the finals, winning first place amongst 149 competitors.
The 'voice' of destiny
In 1972, an inner voice prompted her to enter (somewhat belatedly) the prestigious Musikverein International Competition in Vienna, winning first place with "O luce di quest'anima" from Donizetti's "Linda di Chamonix," and that was that!
Opera management offered her a three-year contract, starting with the role of Oscar in Verdi's "Un ballo in maschera." The famous Austrian newspaper Kurier headlined in capital letters, "A STAR IS BORN."
After making her Paris debut at the Salle Pleyel (in 1969), then at the Théâtre des Champs Elysées (1973), where she came close to stardom singing "Violetta" in Verdi's "La Traviata" (directed by Maurice Béjart), Ghazarian returned to Lebanon to pack her belongings, taking with her the folder that Haddad had given her containing melodies by Lebanese composers, which she went on to sing frequently as an ambassador for Lebanon: "Min Kul Albi" ("With all my heart") and "al-Marjat al-khadra" ("The green meadows") by Georges Farah, "Tahtel zeitouni" ("Under the olive tree") by Toufic Succar, "Due Vocalizzi" by Boghos Gelalian, "Ave Maria" by Georges Baz and "Rayeh fein ya msallini?" ("Where are you going, my muse?" ) by Wadia Sabra.
“I missed Beirut, I miss it so much, especially Mrs. Haddad," Ghazarian yearned. "Before I go on stage, I always look to the sky and say, 'Be with me!'”
The rest, as they say, is history. Ghazarian has graced the stages of La Scala in Milan, the Metropolitan in New York, Covent Garden in London, Opéra Bastille in Paris, La Monnaie in Brussels, Geneva and many other capitals, sharing the stage with the greatest conductors and singers, including Nello Santi, Herbert von Karajan, Sir Georg Solti, Carlos Kleiber, Placido Domingo, Jose Carreras, Alfredo Kraus, Jaime Aragall and Rene Kollo.
“My destiny was sealed,” said the spiritual voice of a woman who has taken on more than 103 roles. “I believe in guidance, and there was a guide who showed me the way.”
Ghazarian opened the doors to her huge, plush office: “Voilà, such has been my life,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Cupboards full of photos, recordings, concert brochures, letters and sheet music make you quickly realize that you are in the presence of a great woman of whom Lebanon can be proud.
Her two sons and husband have been her main source of inspiration, energy and love throughout her career, she concluded.
Unfortunately, Ghazarian never returned to her native country, but she treasures in her heart the memory of a Lebanon... that no longer exists.
This article was originally published in L'Orient-Le Jour; English version edited by Yara Malka.