José van Dam, the acclaimed Belgian opera star, passed away on Tuesday at his home in Croatia at the age of 85. Renowned for his smooth, rich voice, captivating acting, and unwavering dedication to his craft, he was considered one of the finest bass-baritone singers of his generation.
His death was confirmed by the Queen Elisabeth Music Chapel in Belgium, a prestigious training institute for young artists where he held the esteemed title of master in residence emeritus. The cause of death was not disclosed.
Throughout a career spanning over half a century, Mr. van Dam found immense satisfaction in embodying complex operatic characters such as Mozart’s Don Giovanni and Wagner’s Flying Dutchman. He once remarked in a 1981 interview with music journalist Bruce Duffie, “You can sing it 200 or 300 times, yet you have to work every time to understand it.”
He meticulously selected roles that aligned perfectly with his vocal development, progressively expanding his impressive range over time.
This disciplined approach allowed Mr. van Dam to build an extensive repertoire. He mastered major operas by Mozart, Wagner, Verdi, Strauss, Gounod, and Massenet, while also exploring less frequently performed masterpieces like Debussy’s “Pelléas et Mélisande,” Berg’s “Wozzeck,” and Olivier Messiaen’s monumental “St. François d’Assise.” He famously originated the title role in Messiaen’s epic at its premiere in 1983.
Peter G. Davis, in a 1981 review for The New York Times, lauded him as “an elegant and immensely satisfying singer.”
Image: José van Dam in 1987, embodying the title character in Wagner’s powerful opera, “The Flying Dutchman,” at the San Francisco Opera.
Image: Mr. van Dam in 1984. Critics often praised his performances, with one describing him as “an elegant and immensely satisfying singer.”
Early in his career, Mr. van Dam gravitated towards roles traditionally sung by true basses, such as Méphistophélès in Gounod’s “Faust” and Phillip II in Verdi’s “Don Carlos.” However, as he entered his 50s and 60s, he skillfully transitioned to higher-lying baritone parts, including Scarpia in Puccini’s “Tosca.”
With age, Mr. van Dam also gracefully moved from grand opera stages to intimate recitals, never losing his devoted audience or the polished, warm quality of his voice. His theatrical abilities were equally versatile, ranging from profound dramatic portrayals to lighthearted comedic performances.
Even as he approached 60, Mr. van Dam continued to deliver exceptional performances in demanding, lengthy roles like Messiaen’s St. François. A critic for MusicWeb International, Simon Thompson, noted in 2010 when Mr. van Dam was 70, that his “gift for vocal flair is still there” as he bade farewell to staged opera in the title role of Massenet’s “Don Quichotte” at La Monnaie in Brussels.
Maintaining his voice into his later years was a source of great pride for him, as he shared in an interview with La Scena Musicale.
“The most important thing,” he stated, “is that the day I stop singing, people will say, ‘It’s too bad van Dam is no longer singing,’ instead of ‘It’s too bad van Dam continues to sing.’”
Joseph van Damme was born in Brussels on August 25, 1940. His father worked as a carpenter, and his mother, a homemaker, fostered his early love for singing by playing records for him.
At just 14, still an alto, he auditioned for Frédéric Anspach, a renowned singer and pedagogue at the Brussels Conservatory. Anspach became his only voice teacher. After his voice matured, he was admitted to the conservatory and excelled in competitions. Unbeknownst to the school, he also briefly performed as a nightclub singer under the pseudonym José Diamant.
At 20, he adopted the permanent stage name José van Dam and made his debut in Liège as Don Basilio in Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville.” That same year, he signed with the Paris Opera. Following Anspach’s guidance, he initially declined leading roles to focus on minor parts, meticulously honing his skills.
Image: Mr. van Dam, on the left, alongside Kenneth Riegel during the premiere production of Messiaen’s “St. François d’Assise” at the Paris Opera in 1983.
After four years in Paris, Mr. van Dam joined the opera house in Geneva. He then recorded Ravel’s “L’Heure Espagnole” with conductor Lorin Maazel, who subsequently invited Mr. van Dam to the Deutsche Oper in Berlin in 1968. Over the next eight years in Berlin, he became a beloved figure, excelling in roles such as Leporello, Don Giovanni’s long-suffering servant, and the iconic toreador Escamillo in Bizet’s “Carmen,” a role that became synonymous with his name.
His time in Berlin also saw him accepting other significant engagements, most notably with the Berlin Philharmonic and its legendary conductor, Herbert von Karajan. Karajan enlisted Mr. van Dam to perform Don Fernando in Beethoven’s “Fidelio” at the Salzburg Easter Festival in 1971.
This marked the beginning of a long and fruitful collaboration with Karajan, leading to many acclaimed recordings. Despite Karajan’s reputation for pushing singers to their limits, he respected Mr. van Dam’s careful approach and his refusal to sing roles he deemed vocally taxing, such as Don Pizarro in “Fidelio” and Telramund in Wagner’s “Lohengrin,” which Mr. van Dam famously described as “crying parts.”
“I’m a singer, not a screamer,” he firmly stated in his 1981 interview, adding, “It’s the conductor who must adjust.”
In 1973, Mr. van Dam achieved another triumph as Figaro in Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro,” under the baton of Georg Solti at the Paris Opera, in a classic production by Giorgio Strehler that was widely toured.
By the time Mr. van Dam made his Metropolitan Opera debut in 1975 as Escamillo, he was already considered the world’s foremost interpreter of the role.
Image: Mr. van Dam in 1977. Born in Brussels to a carpenter father, he was encouraged by his mother’s love for music.
John Rockwell of The Times praised his performance, writing, “The range is treacherously wide, from solid bass to high baritone, and there is as much demand for soft, sensitive singing as for swagger and bluster,” confirming that Mr. van Dam’s voice was more than capable.
Mr. Rockwell further elaborated, “It is a large, mellow instrument, able to modulate smoothly into soft singing. And his stage presence made the matador a fully commanding figure without falling into macho cheapness.”
In a 1979 review of “The Flying Dutchman” at the Met, Harold C. Schonberg of The Times commended Mr. van Dam as “a steady vocalist with a firm grip on the technical and expressive demands of the music.”
Nearly two decades later, when he returned to Messiaen’s opera at the Salzburg Festival in 1998, Paul Griffiths, also writing in The Times, observed that “Mr. van Dam, who has been St. Francis in every staged performance so far, sings with unswerving force.”
Griffiths concluded, “He sounds like a dark, low trumpet, always there to the full, always secure.”
As his distinguished career continued, Mr. van Dam steadfastly adhered to his earlier plan: to gradually reduce his opera performances and focus more on song recitals.
This shift did not diminish his profound appeal. Anthony Tommasini, reviewing his 1995 appearance at Carnegie Hall for The Times, noted that Mr. van Dam “barely made eye contact with his listeners; rather, he seemed lost to himself in a contemplative state and sang with an eloquence and affecting directness that compelled you to listen. I have rarely been part of a more riveted audience.”
Image: Mr. van Dam outside the historic Palace of Charles of Lorraine in Brussels, pictured in 1991.
Information regarding his survivors was not immediately available.
Mr. van Dam also graced the silver screen, appearing as Leporello in Joseph Losey’s highly acclaimed 1979 film adaptation of “Don Giovanni.” In the 1988 film “The Music Teacher,” which earned an Oscar nomination for best foreign-language film, he starred as an aging opera singer who mentors two promising students, guiding them to combine patience with a rigorous focus on vocal technique.
Off-stage, Mr. van Dam began teaching at the Queen Elisabeth Music Chapel in 2004, a role he cherished until his retirement in 2023.
“Today, when someone has a beautiful voice,” he reflected in a 2000 interview, “they are discovered very quickly and pushed by the recording industry, and sometimes it comes too quickly for young singers. They forget that stars like Pavarotti and Domingo have taken years to get where they are now.”