„Judith’s Courage Calls to Courage Everywhere“

Born and raised in Dubrovnik, Dubravka Šeparović Mušović, 
the national champion of the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb was torn between music and architecture for a long time, having completed her architecture studies before enrolling in the Academy of Music…

Photography: Tomislav Marić
Author: Jana Bačić
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Talented, charismatic, suggestive, extremely brave, and energetic. One could go on and on about the virtues of the national champion of the Opera of the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb, Dubravka Šeparović Mušović, topping the list with all the accolades she has received so far – from the Orlando Award (2000, 2013), the Marijana Radev Award (2003, 2011), the Croatian Actor Award (2003), the Milka Trnina Award (2006), the City of Zagreb Plaque (2009), the Tito Strozzi Award (2011), the City of Zagreb Award (2012,) the badge of The Order of the Croatian Star with the effigy of Marko Marulić, the Best Wagnerian Singer award (2013), the Vladimir Nazor Award (2021) and many others.

Even as a native of Dubrovnik without an artistic background or backing, she drifted to the local music school, sang in the cathedral choir, and then went on to enrol in architecture studies in Zagreb, whence she graduated in 1993, later adding a degree from the Academy of Music (1998) under her belt.

At her resident theatre, she is in the middle of preparing her first opera premiere for the next season: since that will be the year marking the occasion of the 500th anniversary of Marko Marulić’s death, the repertoire will bring his most famous work, Judith, to life. The composer is Frano Parać, and this new, revived edition of Judith will be directed by Snježana Banović.

– I am honoured to have the opportunity to work on Judith. I wanted to get a head and voice start, and it’s a good thing I did, because I was taken aback by the fact that the opera was written in the old Croatian language. As to how far we have strayed from that language, it’s enough to say I have a feeling as if I’m singing in a foreign language, like German or Hungarian. But this is also grist for the mill of this opera: cultivating the old Croatian language. 

Judith is a special woman whose heroism is based on the fact that she takes risks, that she’s got nothing to lose, and that she is completely free. Looking at it from today’s perspective and especially after the deep conversations with the director Banović, one cannot help but deduce that Judith’s courage calls to courage everywhere, urging women to be brave and get out of all relationships that don’t actually do them any good. It is a call to women not to bite their tongues anymore, but rather to transform their difficult emotions into something grand and significant. Therefore, this opera is the crown of my career so far – says Dubravka Šeparović Mušović at the beginning of the conversation.

Even some men seem to bite their tongues nowadays?

We are slowly becoming a matriarchal society and women are taking the lead, becoming overly strong and dominant. It’s as if the true prototype of a man is disappearing. Women are taking on more and more responsibilities… I was raised in Dalmatia, so I incorporated that somewhat archaic relationship dynamics between a woman and a man into my mindset; I remember, for example, when my dad would lie down on the couch in the middle of the living room in the afternoon and we all had to be quiet, but also my mother, who constantly nagged us, lamenting about everything she had to do on a given day in that specific way. Now, I myself am a mother and wife, but I don’t make a fuss about the things I do. 

Anyways, male-female relations have changed and, in this context, I think that it’s more difficult for women today than it was before. 

Since you leave the impression of a strong woman, have men in the past been intimidated by you?

I don’t see myself that way, but a lot of people told me the exact same thing. When you pass by Stradun every day on your way to school, you develop that attitude that all the people of Dubrovnik have – a combination of pride and dignity.

In the business environment, men are still top dogs, and it seems they are given more credit in the art world as well?  

In the said business environment, men are still the dominant species and are obviously at an advantage; they also get paid more. They spearhead opera as well: even though there are fewer of them statistically, more of them get a chance to climb the artistic ladder and charts. There are much more women in the world of opera, but they have to work much harder to gain recognition. 

You had a fairly traditional upbringing, right?

I’m from Dubrovnik, a wonderful city. During my childhood, I soaked up the beauty of Dubrovnik and I had the privilege of living in the most beautiful location in the world – Ploče iza Grada. I felt like Dubrovnik was in the palm of my hand since I had a perfect view of all its sunrises and sunsets, the first and last ships to Lokrum, the sirocco and bura winds… these are all wonderful images imprinted on my memory. 

You’d think that growing up in Dubrovnik is awesome and that it would provide you with endless possibilities. But when you blend into that environment, the worst thing you can do is stand out. You see, small communities don’t want anyone being authentic or thinking for themselves. When you stand out, you can quickly be labelled as, say, eccentric or crazy.

And what was the thing that made you stand out?

I figured out that I was different after I enrolled in the school of applied mathematics and informatics; although I was a straight A student, I came to realise that I felt better in the world of music. Studying mathematics did teach me a lot, but it just didn’t strike a chord. 

You then decided to pursue singing, while your family had other plans for you?

I sang at home all the time, and I was a soloist at the Dubrovnik Cathedral. I graduated from junior music school, where I played the cello; my circle of life turned into the circle of fifths. 

There was an actual world of difference between my high school, which favoured the analytical approach, and the feeling I got while singing. But I was too young to grasp what was going on… Also, no one in my family since prehistoric times has been an artist, so why would little Dube be one now? You know how they say – “Money doesn’t grow on painted trees.”

You said you found your grandmother’s remark on singing funny?

Yes, this is what she told me: “Dube, don’t go into singing, that’s for them streetwalkers.” And when that notion gets into your head, you really start thinking that the whole thing’s not for you. And you assume there’s something wrong with you. 

After high school, I enrolled in architecture studies in Zagreb, but I soon realised that I missed singing. I went to Noni Žunec for singing lessons, where I experienced true catharsis. However, since my studies were pretty difficult and implied a lot of sleepless nights and dark circles under my eyes, I’d sometimes pass out by the piano. And I remember Noni bringing me rakija, water…

Nevertheless, after I passed out for the third time, he told me that he was sorry to inform me that I just didn’t have the mental and physical stamina to be a singer. That was a red flag for me: I got angry with him and stopped going to his lessons. 

I sang the solo at a concert at the Church of Saint Peter in Vlaška Street, and Vitomir Marof was in the audience. He took me by the hand and under his wing, and urged me to study singing at the Academy with Snježana Bujanović. I graduated from architecture and enrolled in the Academy of Music at the same point in time. And there I was: a freshman with a degree in engineering, starting from scratch again. Sure, there were many times that I wanted to give up, but quitting is just not in my nature.

And then you thought about going back to architecture?

After graduating from the Academy of Music, I was actually looking for a job in architecture! But I wanted to do one more singing competition before going back to my square roots. So, I went to the competition in Karlovy Vary, and I won second place. That same summer, at the Dubrovnik Summer Festival, I won an Orlando and, in turn, singing won my heart over. I soon had plenty new performance opportunities lined up.

The Vjesnik newspaper, which was big at the time, published a call for applicants for the post of mezzo-soprano at the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb. I auditioned with “O don fatale” from Verdi’s Don Carlos, the most difficult aria of the mezzo-soprano Fach, and ended up becoming a soloist…

Even then, I still thought that it was just a phase and that I would go back to architecture.

How did your family react to you enrolling in the Academy?

My father told me that I was making a mistake, while my mother tried to be supportive, but since she was not from that world, she usually only made things more difficult for me. I was stubborn and when someone told me I couldn’t do something, I’d go right ahead and do it. So, when someone asks me for advice today, I always tell them that their goal is certainly attainable, that they just have to try. I don’t want to dishearten anyone – quite on the contrary.

I believe that you foster a relationship with your children that is the polar opposite of the one that you had with your parents when you were young?

I never wanted my children to be an extended version of myself. Pushing them into the world of music was the furthest thing from my mind. I waited to see if their talent would emerge on its own. I’ve never been one to hang awards on the walls; I don’t want to suffocate my immediate family with myself and my career or impose myself as their role model. Their minds must be completely free and open. 

When your children were younger, you spent a lot of time singing abroad…

It is very difficult to be a mother and an opera singer with an international career. At one point, you see your wonderful career booming, blooming, yet casting a shadow over something else. When it hits you that these are your children in the dark, it really gets you thinking. Sure, there are singers who continue to pursue their careers in the same way even after becoming mothers, but I have come to realise that I cannot thrive alone while someone next to me suffers. 

Bigger opera houses only mean bigger money, and then trying to make up for lost time with my kids using that very money. I am positive that I made the right decision, that it was the best decision I could make, as I can see from their response.

How did you even realise that singing was your calling? How can one truly know what they are meant for?

Calling is an emotion. You feel fulfilled, you feel happy. And that outweighed everything else for me. But you need a lot of courage, too, since it’s a huge risk. 

You also got to have in mind that callings can change. Today, I feel that I have drunk enough from the fountain of opera. Now, my inner being urges me to test the waters of other forms of art and I can’t wait to see where they take me. I let my being do its thing. You shouldn’t restrict yourself.

In which role have you found yourself the most?

I always made a song and dance about Carmen, but I started feeling like a broken record after so many years of playing that role. I’m not the type of singer who can sing the same role ad infinitum. I’m always on the lookout for new challenges and things to learn. When I entered Wagner’s world, it blew me away, and I became aware of just how much work I still have to do. Then came Strauss, Prokofiev, Schoenberg, all composers dealing with deeply repressed traumas. 

I also learned that we all have certain limitations and that, when we run into a wall which we are unable to jump over, we shouldn’t bang our head against it, but rather make it our fence. You see, when you come to know your limitations, you are freed in a way.

And you know your limitations?

I do, but I keep making the same mistakes. 

How did you manage to not get carried away by the numerous awards you won and all the applause, standing ovations, and praise?

The path I took was not paved with beautiful stones; there were a lot of thorns along the way, so I’ll never forget how difficult it was for me to get to where I am today, just as I won’t dismiss the importance of humility that is crucial for understanding how the world works. For instance, realising that I was sick just before the show, that I depend on my vocal cords, and that there is a thin line between being somebody and being nobody made me immune to arrogance. 

Also, whenever you have to take in a lot of information about composers, you quickly become aware of the limits of your knowledge and the vastness of your imperfections. Unfortunately, today I see many young people riding the wave of self-righteousness…

And what would’ve happened if you had access to social media when you were starting out, seeing how younger generations mostly use it to promote themselves? Would things be different, easier? Because nowadays stars are not born, but coded…

I’m active on social media, but I’m careful about what and how much I post. In a way, I’m researching what content from the opera world piques the interest of people from other professions.

It has become very easy to find out every single detail about a singer; everything in general is available online, but sometimes the quality of what you see on social media doesn’t reflect reality.

How do you find peace within yourself to perform a role to the best of your abilities, paying no mind to various distractions? Can that sometimes take the form of a proper psychological process?

I deeply value the learning process, rehearsals, and work, as well as good communication with the director. Working with the director closely resembles depth therapy; I have to open up to them, as if to undress my mind. You have to lay bare your wounds from which you draw your interpretation, and that leads to a deep relationship between the singer and the director. At the same time, it is necessary to detect how far the director is willing to go. I’m a geek when it comes to rehearsals, because that’s when I dig deeper into the task. 

As for inner peace, it’s each to their own. The fact is, however, that there is no great success without trial and error. 

How do you hold up under scrutiny?

I learned a lot from the bad reviews… But I also realised that sometimes criticism has no bearing in truth, that it’s all smoke and mirrors. Of course, criticism is necessary and people in my line of work simply have to figure out how to deal with it. 

But I am my own toughest critic. Even today, after every performance, I always analyse everything I did. Ah, if only the critics knew how critical I am of myself…

Do you feel the emotional response of the audience while you sing?

I try to immerse myself into my own world and interpretation, and my emotional flow then spills over the margins, dissolving them and moving the audience. You can’t give your all to every performance because there are many factors at play: good night’s sleep, inner peace, good mood, the conductor, directing, atmosphere… 

And finally, where do you see yourself in the future?

I see myself in the experimental compartment. Heading in some new direction of opera that aims to educate the audience, which needs to be familiarised with new content on a regular basis. Taking care of the generations to come is of utmost importance.

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