The only time opera singer Kiri Te Kanawa was available for interview was 8 a.m.; not because of difficulties regarding time zones (the interview was by phone from her home in England) but because Te Kanawa rises no later than 5 a.m. every day and likes to conduct her business correspondingly early.
Soprano Kiri Te Kanawa is one of the small band of internationally famous opera singers, whose name is familiar even to those with little knowledge of the music world. She started her studies in 1965 with the London Opera Centre. In 1971, her critically-acclaimed performance of the countess in Mozart's Marriage of Figaro signalled the beginning of a successful international career in opera. She has since sung in many of the world's famous opera houses - Covent Garden, the Metropolitan, the Paris Opera and the Vienna State. In 1981, she sang Handel's The Bright Seraphim at the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer. (The television coverage attracted 700 million viewers and subsequent superstardom.)
Te Kanawa will sing at Luttrellstown Castle on July 13th, conducted by Robin Stapleton, a long-time musical partner, and accompanied by a full orchestra. Do the exotic locations she has sung at, such as in the Australian desert at Flinders, an 11th century basilicain Istanbul, and Olympia in Greece, add any particular dimensions to her performances? "It makes a difference to the audience, but none to me. Audiences like places that they wouldn't usually get in to see, but it could be anywhere to me, it makes no difference. An aeroplane is where I spend most of my time. But the public like seeing these places."
Among the music she will be singing at Luttrellstown are pieces by Puccini, Bernstein and Gershwin. "I sing whatever I feel like," she says. "There are only certain pieces suitable for performance outdoors. Some pieces get lost in a big space; you need an intimate space for them where you can feel enveloped by the music."
This being Ireland, what are the arrangements - acoustics, cover and so on - for rain during the concert? There is a long sigh down the phone. "Have you never been to one of these big concerts before?" Te Kananwa inquires. Actually, no, but what difference does that make to the arrangements for a concert that hasn't yet been staged?
"How can I possibly explain staging to you if you don't know what I'm talking about?" comes the terse answer. "Did you not see the coverage of me singing at the Queen's Jubilee?" Er, no. "You didn't watch any of the television coverage of the Queen's Jubilee?" She sounds genuinely incredulous. Umm, negative again, funnily enough. More long sighs from England.
This seems a good place to ask Te Kanawa what her thoughts are on the public opinion of opera singers as self-obsessed prima donna-types. "I do like myself. It would be horrible if I didn't," Te Kanawa replies. "You have to have pride in yourself when you are a performer. Singers have to get up there and sing and expose themselves and you can't do that unless you have pride in yourself. Some people in the public might call that being 'difficult'. Think of tenors, for instance. It's very difficult to produce those sounds. So, psychologically, it's very hard for them to get up there and sing, especially if they're not sure of themselves or confident about themselves. The voice is a very delicate instrument and you have to treat it with care. No parties or rugby matches. No late nights. Bed by 10.30 p.m. usually."
Usually, but not always. Te Kanawa had a very late night the previous evening. "I was up late last night," she says, "until 1 a.m., because I was at Elton John's white tie and tiaras party. It went on very late - until 2 a.m." Perhaps Elton John was just minding his voice too.
Kiri Te Kanawa sings at Luttrellstown Castle on July 13th