In 2007, Giuseppe Filianoti feared his opera career might be over. The Italian-born singer, whom critics were calling one of the leading tenors of his generation, underwent surgery to remove a cancerous thyroid gland, and in the aftermath one of his vocal chords became completely paralyzed. But Giuseppe, a native of Reggio Calabria in the far south of Italy, comes from hearty stock, and he decided he was going to get his voice back. “I have never allowed myself to be discouraged in the face of difficulties,” he says, “and I have always fought on, thinking that everything can be resolved.” After painstaking therapy, he regained the full use of his pipes – and he’s now riding again at the top of the opera world.

Giuseppe, who makes his United States recital debut on the Harriman-Jewell Series on April 21^st, has been praised for a “rich and poignant voice” (The New York Times). He has sung in all the world’s major opera houses, and he continues to expand his repertoire and his scope. Harriman executive director Clark Morris said he and the Series’ late founder, Richard Harriman, had known about Giuseppe for some time, and they were excited about presenting his debut here – as they had for Pavarotti and many others. “It’s become one of the hallmarks of the Series,” Clark says. “One of our core values is the idea of discovery … and we like to be able to play the role of helping Kansas City discover the world through artists that we think are going to be important.” The Series was also drawn to him because of the way he “overcame such adversity and is now playing to all the great houses to great success.” We recently caught up with the tenor in Hamburg, where he was in the middle of a run of La Bohème. Giuseppe, who says he gets home as often as possible to see his wife and 7-year-old son, graciously fielded some questions.

Paul: Why sing recitals? What benefit do you gain from them that you do not get on the opera stage? 

Giuseppe: In a recital you have the opportunity and the difficulty of having to recite the text and whisper the melody at the same time. Everything is very intimate and the contact with the public much more direct. The singer is naked in front of the listeners in a recital. No barrier exists between the artist and the listener, so it is one of the most challenging and difficult tasks for a singer who usually sings opera. This is a new challenge for me but one which gives me the chance to sing some of the most beautiful melodies ever written of the end of the 19^th and beginning of the 20^th centuries.

You have often mentioned that Alfredo Kraus has been a great model and teacher for you. Can you tell us what you learned from him, and describe the things about his vocal artistry that have impressed you? 

Kraus was and remains the model of elegance and nobility. Listening to his singing across a span of time, you understand what it means to really sing with a clean sound, high in the “mask” and with authentic phrasing and phenomenal interpretation. Further, Kraus was a man with a great heart, a true gentleman, things which are very rare in our environment.

Which of the major roles that you sing do you feel is the most similar to you – the character whose personality and temperament you can most relate to? 

Usually, I most enjoy interpreting those roles that have a character and personality which are very different than mine. Because on the stage, it is exciting to be able to put on a mask and to be that which in real life you are not, or wouldn’t want to be. So, this being so, I love to interpret characters who are sick or tormented, like Werther, Federico in L’Arlesiana, Hoffmann, Don Carlo, Peter Grimes … or just to have fun with Nemorino (The Elixir of Love).

At what point was it clear that you were a lyric tenor? Are there regrets that you might not be singing the big dramatic roles? 

Right from the beginning of my studies at the age of 17, I knew I was a lyric tenor. I have always been happy of that fact because the repertoire that I have always loved most has been the French repertoire and in order to sing it, you need a voice which is neither too light nor too heavy. I’ve always accepted my voice for what it is, and I have never claimed to be Caruso.

What’s the craziest production you’ve ever been a part of, in terms of wacky contemporary stagecraft? 

The craziest and most fun was L’Elisir d’amore in Munich. Exhilarating! The ugliest and stupidest was Don Giovanni, also in Munich. The most unpredictable was Manon in Paris. The most brilliant and enigmatic was Hoffmann, also in Paris. Unforgettable!

What was it like growing up in Reggio Calabria? Was it a family-centered experience, and how important is family for you still today? 

I am a son of southern Italy, and am proud and happy to be so. I had a happy upbringing with the love and support of my parents. I lived and studied in Calabria until the age of 22. I still call my mother on the phone every day and I’m not ashamed to say so.

You had a difficult crisis after your cancer surgery. If things had gone in a different direction, can you imagine what you might have done instead of singing?

My grandmother used to say “Solo alla morte non c’è riparo,” the only thing inevitable, in the end, is death. I never make a tragedy out of my misfortunes, but I try to learn and to take a positive approach. Life goes on and you can’t stop. (Domingo is right when he says, ‘If I rest I rust.’)

Has cancer changed you? I don’t just mean the vocal aspect, but you as a person.

I have always been the typical hard-headed Calabrian but with the awareness that we humans are so fragile and alone and mortal that it is a shame to ruin oneself or to ruin the lives of other people. It is enough to wake up every day and to be thankful for another day, instead of thinking of each day as being a weight that we have to carry in our lives.