Tenor
Niels Jørgen Riis
Tenor
Born in Rønne in 1969. He lives in Copenhagen but still owns his farm on Bornholm, where he was born and raised. He made his debut at the Royal Danish Theatre in 1996 as Lehrbube in Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg.
From 1989 to 1994, Niels Jørgen Riis studied agronomy at the Royal Veterinary and Agricultural University in Copenhagen. However, a strong interest in music and a long-standing fascination with the human voice led him to apply to the Opera Academy in 1994, where he was accepted. He became a permanent member of the soloist ensemble at the Royal Danish Theatre in 1998.
At the Royal Danish Theatre, Niels Jørgen Riis has performed roles such as Gabriele in Simon Boccanegra, Edgardo in Lucia di Lammermoor, Lensky in Eugene Onegin, the title role in Idomeneo, Ismaele in Nabucco, Romeo in Romeo and Juliet, the Sailor in Tristan und Isolde, the Steersman in The Flying Dutchman, Fenton in Falstaff, Alfredo in La traviata, Nemorino in L’elisir d’amore, Chekalinsky in The Queen of Spades, Leander in Maskarade, Belfiore in Il viaggio a Reims, Narraboth in Salome, the title role in Werther, the Duke in Rigoletto, Rodolfo in La bohème, Macduff in Macbeth, and Alfred in Die Fledermaus.
As a concert singer, he has performed in oratorios such as Handel’s Messiah, Mozart’s Requiem, Gounod’s St Cecilia Mass, Nielsen’s Springtime on Funen, Rossini’s Petite Messe Solennelle, Puccini’s Messa di Gloria, and Bach’s Christmas Oratorio.
He has received several awards and scholarships, including the Edith Allers Memorial Grant, the Royal Chamber Singer Holger Bruunsgaard Memorial Grant, and the Aksel Schiøtz Prize.
What can opera do?
Opera gives us the opportunity to explore the great, life-changing emotions. In some ways, like film—and yet not at all. In opera, we can dwell on the brief moments in life that change everything. If a film spent so much real time on an emotional turning point, it would feel strange. In film, you have to explain what has happened or will happen. In opera, we can linger. This is often used against opera (“I am dying, I am dyyyiiing!”), but if you accept opera’s premise, it offers a unique opportunity to experience these great moments in slow motion.
Most extraordinary experience on stage?
In the previous season, I sang Alfredo in La traviata for the sixth time. Anne Margrethe Dahl sang Violetta. Anne is MY Violetta. We have performed La traviata together 50–60 times. We know each other inside out—the characters and the music. It became the greatest evening of my life on stage. It felt as though we were floating 10 cm above the stage, and the roof lifted. We WERE Violetta and Alfredo. It was magical. The orchestra followed us through thick and thin, and we could feel the audience breathing with us. Anne sang her best Violetta. These are the moments that make you love this profession.
In which direction should opera develop between tradition and renewal?
I take a great interest in antiques. I collect and restore them myself, always with respect for their identity. I respect their original expression, yet they still give me profound experiences in my own time. They embody expertise and passion. I study them and learn their history. I cultivate their story. If I paint over them with a modern color or reshape them, they lose their true expression.
For me, operas written in the past are historical works. We can recreate them as faithfully as possible so that they continue to live.
The emotions opera portrays are timeless. The contexts may be outdated (servants, religious devotion, language), but we still understand them, because our emotions today are not so different from those of the people depicted in these operas.
Three important roles in your operatic life?
Rodolfo in La bohème – Every tenor’s dream role. It is wonderful to be carried by Puccini’s rich and emotional harmonies. I have sung it many times, and each time it moves me deeply and brings me closer to myself.
Alfredo in La traviata – He is so honest. He experiences every stage of true love—and of losing it again. I love La traviata. Beneath the surface lies the grandeur of mature Verdi, but we remain in the raw world of youthful emotions. My favorite moment, where I often stand in the wings and cry while waiting to enter, is in Act 4, when Violetta realizes her life is ending in the aria “Addio del passato.” Here, Verdi shows everything in the music—the life fading from her body and death waiting outside.
Leander in Maskarade – I love the depiction of Holberg’s Copenhagen and the chance to sing in my own language in Nielsen’s unmistakably Danish music. The intrigues and the relationship between Henrik and Leander—master and servant, yet more like a joyful and wild friendship.
I even got to sing Leander in the old sets from the 1930s at the Old Stage in the late 1990s. Before that, when I had just started at the Opera Academy, we first-year students were invited to appear as extras in Maskarade during Ib Hansen’s farewell performance. I will never forget it. He had to sing “Fordum var der fred” twice—the applause would not stop, and Ib stood there in tears. What an entrance into my future theatre family.
Your favourite singer?
Luciano Pavarotti. I would go so far as to say that he is the reason I became a singer. Of all those I listened to and learned from in my youth, it was Pavarotti’s voice, technique, and natural sound that impressed me most. You can say what you want about him, but his technique and voice—especially around the age of 50—were unmatched. It touches me deeply.
The best opera?
There are so many… I cannot choose just one… Puccini. Verdi. Wagner… Impossible.