Remember the Dublin mezzo soprano Patricia Bardon? She shot to fame in 1983, at the age of 18, as Ireland's first entrant in the Cardiff Singer of the World competition. And she was heard in the title role of Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice with the Dublin Grand Opera Society in 1986. At home she was more celebrated in the 1980s than she is now, but the situation abroad is exactly the opposite. A major turning point in her career was being chosen by the French-based American baroque specialist William Christie to take the title role in a production of Handel's Orlando, the Erato recording of which, with Les Arts Florissants, was made in 1996. The success of this brought in its train bigger roles in better houses, and, naturally enough, plenty of opportunities to work in 18th-century repertoire. But, leaving aside tomorrow night's appearance for Music for Galway, Ireland has taken no notice. Apart from that, the most recent performances I can trace were in Derry in 1995 and Dublin in 1993.
As a youngster, Bardon had no real notion of becoming an opera singer. She received musical encouragement at school, and, when she finally went to audition for Veronica Dunne, she thought it was "a bit of a laugh". If she fancied herself as a performer at all, it was "as a Tina Turner or something". But, taken on as a part-time pupil, she rapidly acquired an appetite for vocal work. "Within a very short time I was really enjoying singing my arie antiche, and other such things. I didn't look back after that really."
Encouragement came from all sides, her teacher ("always an incredibly positive person"), Feis adjudicators ("somebody coming from London and writing something complimentary seemed a really big deal"), plus, of course, Cardiff, and the engagements at home that that sort of exposure led to. It was, she says, "a baptism of fire, terribly tough, because I was terribly young, incredibly green. OK, I could sing, but I had a long way to go to get to a standard that I would consider serious or respectable. "I also had a lot of things to learn about concentration, apart from the musical aspect, and vocal and technical stuff. Just actually what getting up and singing in front of people really entails. Just learning your craft. Being thrown in at the deep end and being years younger than your colleagues; that was very tough. You're not your own person at 18 or 20 or 25."
Asked if her ambitions at that stage were primarily operatic, she first says, no. "Just the singing. You know, it's always so incredibly flattering to be asked to do anything, even if it's to sing in the parish church, or whatever. That never goes away." Then, reflecting, she says, probably yes. "I suppose, yes, it was primarily an operatic ambition. You know, the frocks, the make-up and all that, the campery of it."
Careers imagined - especially under the influence of early success - and careers achieved don't always match up. Bardon says "the thing about being a mezzo, and maybe being a singer in general, though perhaps less so for sopranos, is that you're not really taken major seriously for the big roles until you're in your late twenties, early thirties. You bide your time, and learn your craft." The realities of the profession, the sheer quality of competition from other singers, wasn't easy to gauge from Dublin as a novice. She instances in particular the influx of singers from Eastern Europe, laughing, as she says, "since they took that bloody wall down". And stardom, which glitters so attractively in the imaginations of many a young singer, doesn't ever seem to have been a distraction. "I don't know that I ever wanted to be a star. It just seemed like too much hard work. For me, being employed by serious conductors or opera companies, or having the respect of my peers, that's all I've ever wanted."
Nor is the reality of the singer's life something that college training can really prepare you for. "It couldn't possibly. Being a young person and a student plays such a part in that. It's only the business of going out there and doing it, being on your own, finding out what it is to be stuck in Paris for six weeks. You learn on the hoof." And Handel operas would have been far from her mind as a student. "When you're at college, the last thing you want to be doing is Handel, because it's not considered cool. You wanted to be doing Carmen, or Rossini, more dramatic stuff. Which is nonsense, because Handel is so fantastic, fantastic characters, and it's a great training as well. Everybody gets about 10 arias each. "I hadn't had a great deal of experience doing Handel, apart from six million oratorios, when I came to do Orlando. It was great experience working with William Christie. He's a great man for taking risks, in terms of style. He goes out beyond the boundaries of what's considered Handelian style, which was great. It really suited me and my voice type."
The first day of rehearsal, says Bardon, is something she counts as being among the most challenging occasions in a singer's life, "going in and meeting a bunch of singers you may have never met before, and a conductor, and a director and an assistant-this and an assistant-that, a whole string of people. You open up the score and away you go. You may be knackered or just off colour. Everybody's actually nervous in those situations, I've learned. Even the conductors and directors. It's such a difficult time, everybody coming together. Basically, you have to have a relationship with these people. I found that very difficult, because I was actually always quite shy. That still is tough."
She describes herself as "passionate about Lieder and French song" (singing in English, she says, is something she'd almost like to avoid). But, when you come down to it, it's the operatic performing experiences that she treasures the most. "To date, the opera I've done that I've enjoyed the most in terms of gratification, both musically and from the character point of view, would be Carmen. I was in dread of doing it, because I just couldn't identify with the character, at all. Prior to actually working on the role, I thought, she's just a tart. I was totally unsympathetic. I was sympathetic to Don Jose, which was a bad start. But I discovered she was multi-layered, a woman who knew her mind. Working on the role opened up new avenues. It was my own naivety. I suppose any time I'd gone to see the opera she was depicted with hands on the hips. You know, give me a break."
Her absence from operatic and concert life in Ireland, Bardon explains, is due simply to the fact that she hasn't been asked to perform. It's something she regrets very much. Outside of Galway, tomorrow night, she'll be heard next August in Mahler's Second Symphony in Limerick, Dublin, and Belfast, with the National Youth Orchestra under Sebastian Weigle. Apart from that, you'll have to look her up in places like Brussels, Athens, Florence, Innsbruck, Drottningholm, or San Francisco.
Patricia Bardon, accompanied by Ingrid Surgenor, sings Rossini, Brahms, Bizet, Thomas, Saint- Saens, Falla, and Joan Trimble at the Aula Maxima of NUI Galway in a concert sponsored by Nortel. For tickets and full details, ring 091 798140.
