Wolfram propounds the ideal of pure love, Tannhäuser eulogises lust. Why do we have to choose?
Opera presents us with clearly defined outlines and categories. When we’re in the audience, we’re reflecting on our existence. Once we’ve left the theatre, we resume our daily round as if nothing had happened. Practical, don’t you think?

Who gets any benefit out of abstaining from sex?
You’re asking the wrong person. Wolfram is rejected by Elisabeth, so he starts preaching a life of abstinence. Imagine if Elisabeth had accepted his advances: would he still be going on about abstinence? I don’t think so. Opera is like shadow puppetry. You have a straightforward protagonist with very stark contours dealing with another clearly outlined protagonist. Wolfram von Eschenbach is very simply drawn to put him in stark contrast to Tannhäuser.

Doesn’t any great love story always need high obstacles to overcome?
No loving relationship is a downhill ride. You have to work at it, just as you have to maintain and clean a building. When I was younger, I had relationships that failed because I didn’t work at keeping them alive.

What is stronger: love or art?
Is that a serious question? Love, of course. When my second child was born, I was terrified I didn’t have enough love to go around. But love is bottomless. Art is nothing in comparison.

Do you have a personal angle on Wolfram?
Wolfram fulfils a special function for me, because I need roles in my repertoire that don’t kill me. Otherwise I’d be nudging at my limits every day and that’s just not healthy. I’ve sung Wolfram very often but it’s been years since I last did the role. I’m looking forward to him. He doesn’t leave me drained. Singing a gentler character is good for my voice. Not that I’m not interested in the character, on the contrary! Wolfram may not be the most riveting role to sing, but it’s amazing being part of this opera. In Wagner’s works and with my voice, it’s either Wolfram or nothing.

Cross your heart: are you more a Wolfram or a Tannhäuser?
Do you know anyone who’s really like Wolfram? I don’t. And certainly not a single singer who’s like him. Anyone who gets up on stage is running the risk of failure. Wolfram’s character runs counter to joy, to passion, to the risk inherent in daring to do that impossible thing we call singing. Not that I’d want to be like Tannhäuser. He’s like someone who’s climbing a massive mountain without a safety rope. I don’t understand him and I don’t even understand how you can sing the role. Singing Tannhäuser is like climbing an eight-thousander.