Social media often receives its fair share of criticism, but sometimes it delivers something truly special.
Just a week ago, I came across a post from Lisette Oropesa announcing that she would be giving a recital in Crans-Montana. I could hardly believe it. Without hesitation, I reached out to Swiss Made Culture to request a ticket. They responded quickly and generously with a positive answer, and I would like to thank them once again for their kindness and efficiency. For a recital of this caliber, such responsiveness was both impressive and deeply appreciated.
The evening lasted approximately one hour and forty minutes, with a brief intermission of about fifteen minutes. The program was beautifully balanced between bel canto and French repertoire, offering a rich and varied musical journey.
We heard Rossini, Bellini, Meyerbeer, Donizetti, and Mercadante — and to conclude, the best of the best: Giuseppe Verdi. Oropesa performed an aria followed by its cabaletta from I Masnadieri, a role she had very recently sung in concert version in Madrid. The music felt fresh, alive, still warm in her voice and in her memory. There was an immediacy to her interpretation that made the performance particularly thrilling.
Vocally, Lisette Oropesa remains one of the greatest sopranos of our time. Her technique is formidable — crystal-clear coloratura, effortless high notes, immaculate breath control — but what elevates her artistry is the musical intelligence behind every phrase. Each ornament feels intentional, every pianissimo meaningful. In a recital format, without staging or orchestra, there is nowhere to hide — and she needed none. It was pure artistry.
The chapel where the recital took place was completely sold out — absolutely packed. I suspect even the village priest might have been envious of the attendance compared to a Sunday morning mass. But beyond the humor, there was something truly remarkable about seeing an artist of Oropesa’s stature in such an intimate setting. The proximity between singer and audience created a rare, almost sacred atmosphere. Moments like this remind us why live music matters.
We were also treated to two encores. One of them, an Ave Maria dedicated to the victims of Crans-Montana in my country, was profoundly moving. You could see that she herself was deeply affected. The emotion in the room was palpable — a shared silence, a collective breath. It was not just a performance; it was a moment of communion.
A very special mention must go to Alessandro Praticò, the Calabrian pianist who frequently accompanies the American soprano in her recitals. Once again, he was splendid — attentive, refined, and musically generous. His concert paraphrase on Rigoletto, which I know by heart, was breathtaking. I genuinely believe I have never heard it performed so beautifully live.
To experience one of today’s greatest sopranos in a place as intimate as Crans-Montana was something truly special. An evening of virtuosity, elegance, emotion — and a reminder that sometimes, a simple Instagram post can lead to unforgettable memories.
