At 75, Jamaica-born Sir Willard White is still singing across the world – from Amsterdam to New York. By Louise Flind
Anything you can’t leave home without?
I have to decide where home is. Sometimes I leave the so-called home without certain things and I have either to replace them or do without. I have a conscious philosophy – what’s happened in front of me I cannot change; I can change my reaction to it.
Where did your musicality come from?
I don’t know. I’m a product of slavery. The system was devised so that family connections were broken up. There wasn’t really any music in my family. My father was a good whistler. My mother sang when she was in the kitchen.
Where is home?
My home is in me… I live in Paris now because my wife is Parisian and I also live in London. But I spend my life going from one contract to the next. When I left Jamaica, various things disturbed my equilibrium and I have discovered I have to make peace with where I am.
Do you travel light?
I do my best to travel light but I’m not very successful because my shoes take a lot of space – they’re only 13½.
What’s your favourite destination?
It’s like having a favourite child. Don’t have one – otherwise the others get neglected. I love going to Amsterdam and New York.
What are your earliest childhood holiday memories?
Are you kidding? On school trips, we’d go from Kingston to the north coast to Ocho Rios and that was sort of my holiday, but as I look back now my whole life was a holiday…
What’s your favourite place in Jamaica?
All of St Ann.
What was your Jamaican childhood like?
I was born in the Parish of St Catherine in Ewarton about 32 miles from Kingston. My parents had a little farm run by my mother, and I was sent to Kingston when I was five to school. There I was with my father, and holidays were spent in the countryside with my mother. They weren’t separated.
Where did you stay when you went to the Julliard School in New York?
I stayed at 270 Clarkson Avenue, Brooklyn, with my aunt at the end of ’68. New York was a wonderful shock.
What was Maria Callas like?
She was most intimidating without trying to be intimidating, because of her energy, sheer stature, notability, elegance and captivating personality. It was quite daunting. And she was totally warm – uncompromising but not in a negative fashion.
What is your favourite opera house?
I love Amsterdam, Covent Garden and the Metropolitan Opera.
What are your favourite operas?
Die Entführung, The Damnation of Faust and The Ring.
And your favourite aria?
Il lacerato spirito from Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra which Madam Callas coached me on.
How has your voice changed as you’ve grown older?
I’ve discovered my voice is actually my guide. It teaches me things and every day it has a potential difference because every day my body is changing.
How much singing do you do nowadays?
I’m doing The Coronation of Poppea at that little opera house, the Vienna Staatsoper. I’ve reached an age of respectability [he says, laughing].
What is your favourite bit of London?
Getting off the train at Charing Cross station and walking through Trafalgar Square to either the English National Opera or Covent Garden.
How was lockdown?
Lockdown was quite educational. I felt my voice was changing because I had to reflect on who I am, what can I do and my self-respect, which was a little bit fragile before.
Do you work on a plane/train?
Sometimes, and in the street – my head is always thinking about a better way of singing or doing a phrase.
Do you lie on the beach?
Not for very long, because my skin is already dark and I get very hot.
What’s your favourite food?
Ackee and codfish. Ackee is the national fruit of Jamaica; it grows on a big tree.
What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever eaten?
My first acquaintance with frog’s legs was quite strange and quite delicious.
Do you have a go at the local language?
My German was best but now my French is better – and I speak a smattering of Dutch.
What is the strangest place you’ve ever slept in – while being away?
In Bali, in accommodation made from palm leaves and raised above the ground.
What’s your biggest headache?
Insensitive travellers in airports, and self-important people giving stewardesses a hard time.
