The Tempelhofer Feld is where I feel a deep contentment. It represents my sense of being en route to somewhere, of being in permanent transit between engagements and countries and cities. I’m constantly on the road, meeting new people, discovering new music. Being on the move has become my comfort zone; it’s how I feel most at ease.

I’ve wanted to see the world ever since I was a boy, but I’d never have thought I’d end up going to Europe as an opera singer and living in Berlin. I grew up in Georgetown, a small town in Illinois. My family had a smallholding that we worked. For a small town boy like me movies and TV series were my window on the world. I used to watch a lot with my grandmother.

I spent a lot of time at her house outside of town. It was kind of the happy place of my childhood. You got there via a narrow footpath made of flagstones, similar to the runway of an airport, my first springboard into life, if you will. I get throwbacks to that path whenever I’m on the Tempelhofer Feld, which is one of my absolute favourite places. It’s a great place for a first date – or for just chilling on my own.

Walking on the former runway always conjures up memories for me. It’s like a gateway back into my childhood, reminding me of all those trips I made to my gran’s house along that stone path. Her dog used to run to meet me and fling himself on the ground to have his belly rubbed. There was this mean cat that used to lay in wait and pounce on me. There were cooked noodles on the stove and I used to do piano practice after we’d eaten. I played for our local church, which was a big thing for my gran. She was from Poland and was very religious.

I had no contact with opera until I started studying, and going to college was by no means a natural progression. I and my sister and cousins were the first of our family not to stay put in the local area. My plan was to do a degree in piano at Southern Illinois University, but I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t have the classical grounding. The teacher suggested I join the choir, because I had a nice voice. And that was my start as a singer.

I arrived at the Deutsche Oper Berlin in 2013 as a stipendiary. I was a permanent member of the ensemble until the end of the 2023/2024 season and have been freelance since then. Berlin has been hugely formative for me! I gave my Wagner debut here in 2017, singing the steersman in Christian Spuck’s production of THE FLYING DUTCHMAN. It’s a small role but there’s a lovely aria at the start.

Cracked asphalt, dry grass, big sky and the open range: the Tempelhofer Feld reminds the tenor of his grandmother’s garden, where he spent part of his childhood © Nancy Jesse

Back then I thought I’d got the measure of Wagner. Wrong. As time went on I picked up on important details, for instance how volume is not the be all and end all. Ok, powerful vocals are important in Wagner, yet he composed with such delicacy. The orchestra is not so loud that it forces the singers to yell over it.

As an artist I like to get into a role by looking at things I have in common with the character. With Siegmund in Wagner’s THE VALKYRIE I’m still looking for commonalities. The guy is heroic, bursting with masculine energy, which is not really me. Then again, Siegmund is kind of betwixt and between, both on the run and on a quest. He’s searching for love and understanding but is initially forced to escape from his pursuers. He takes refuge in Hunding’s home. Maybe that’ll turn out to be my take-off runway.

My grandmother’s home is gone now, destroyed in a fire shortly after her death. It’s been 20 years now since that happened, but the footpath is still there. Everything else on the plot of land is overgrown but the flagstones of the path are still bare of vegetation. Whenever I’m back in Georgetown, I go there and have a moment for myself, tearing up and reminiscing about the old times, but in a positive, cleansing way, getting back in touch with my roots – before I head out again.