THE NIGHTINGALE HAS AWAKENED: The Art of Ukraine’s Most Famous Tenor
Anatoliy Solovyanenko on the cover of the magazine Soviet Life, October 1984 / wikipedia.org
Anatoliy Solovyanenko (September 25, 1932 – July 29, 1999) was a world-renowned lyric-dramatic tenor. In his youth, he sang complex opera arias without knowing musical notation. Throughout his life, he performed seventeen opera roles and recorded eighteen albums. He sang in Ukrainian, Italian, Spanish, and French. His mastery rivaled opera legends such as Plácido Domingo and Luciano Pavarotti. In 2022, he was included in the list of «The 100 Greatest Ukrainians».
HOW TO SING «LA TRAVIATA» WITHOUT SHEET MUSIC?
Anatoliy Solovyanenko was born in Stalino (now Donetsk), on the outskirts, in the working-class Proletarka district. They lived in a small house, worked in the mines, and sang so clearly that passersby would smile and say, «Look, the nightingales have awakened». Then came the war and evacuation, bringing with it a new set of challenges.
Little Tolya’s memories were etched with the frail railway tracks, the blood-red sun, and the cries of infants. His mother, guided by her intuition, tried to save her loved ones, but perhaps fate had other plans. That winter, the thermometer stuck at minus forty, and Anatoliy’s brother succumbed to the cold. The pain was unbearable, but it didn’t break him.
After the war, life had to be rebuilt. School, hard labor, and coal dust became his reality. The boy dreamed of becoming a singer, but his father had a different perspective, believing that the life of an artist was too uncertain. One never knows how the voice will behave — it might disappear. It was better, his father thought, to acquire a reliable profession and then sing as much as you like.
Anatoliy listened to his father and enrolled in the Donetsk Polytechnic Institute, majoring in mining electromechanics. He excelled at defending papers on the history of the Communist Party, but his heart was set on the big stage. He dreamed of playing Andriy in Zaporozhets Beyond the Danube, Alfredo in the famous La Traviata, and Rodolfo in the majestic La Bohème. Wherever he went, melodies followed him. Here, a broad breath was required; there, a transition to recitative was needed. After lectures, he rushed to rehearsals, singing accompanied by an instrumental ensemble.
In the summer, Anatoliy set out with a friend to Leningrad and decided to take a risk. Despite not knowing musical notation or the basics of academic singing, he submitted documents to the conservatory. He performed the aria quite well, but when it came to sight-reading, he faltered. The notes had multiple stems and were scattered like fleas. He immediately heard the harsh verdict: «This isn’t your path. Studying at the Polytechnic? Then keep studying!» As he was leaving, one of the teachers caught up with him: «I have a good friend in Stalino, a vocal teacher named Oleksandr Korobeichenko. Go see him…»
From that day on, Anatoliy took two lessons a week. Simultaneously, he learned Italian so he wouldn’t just memorize his roles but genuinely understand them. There were times when he grew tired and disheartened, but then it was back to legato «I-A-U» and staccato «G-g-g-g-g.» Various lip trills. He was singing both the upper and lower registers. Soon, he graduated from the institute and got a job as a descriptive geometry lecturer, but he never gave up his vocal lessons. In the sixth year of training, his teacher allowed him to start working on opera roles, and in the tenth year, he declared: «You’ve grown wings, Tolya. It’s time to fly!»
He met his future wife at the Polytechnic. Svitlana worked as a lab assistant in the department and carefully concealed her feelings (the teacher was eleven years older). They lived in the same district, where a single tram ran. They rode together, talked, and laughed. One day, on March 8, Anatoliy caught up with the student carrying a bouquet and invited her to see The Amphibian Man. Mutual love blossomed.
FROM GEOMETRY TO LA SCALA
Anatoliy’s life changed when he turned thirty. He arrived at the October Palace to perform at a concert, where he brilliantly sang several romances, earning thunderous applause. The audience clapped so vigorously that it seemed the ceiling might collapse at any moment. The next day, he received an invitation to the Kyiv Opera Theater and made his debut in Giuseppe Verdi’s Rigoletto. A year later, he won a competition to study at the «School for Advanced Opera Singers» at Milan’s La Scala and set off for Italy.
Before heading to the land of olives, vineyards, and authentic wood-fired pizza, he returned to Donetsk. The audience showered the stage with flowers, and the soloist bowed deeply, bringing his teacher out onto the stage. The hall went wild. Oleksandr Korobeichenko was nearly in tears: «You are a part of my life, Tolya. You are its continuation!»
Three years flew by like a moment. Anatoliy studied under Gennaro Barra and took second place in the televised song competition Naples Against Everyone. He photographed the flowers given to him by the audience for his beloved and promised to bring even more beautiful bouquets back home. Upon his return, he married, and the couple had their first child, Andriy. Back at the National Opera, he took on leading roles and performed in packed houses.
BETWEEN THE STAGE AND FAMILY
In the Solovyanenko household, singing was not expected. Anatoliy never sang at family gatherings because singing was not entertainment for him — it was his profession. Svitlana, while busy in the kitchen, would sometimes hum a popular tune, but little Andriy would always say, «Mom, better not; Dad might hear…»
Anatoliy was reserved and calm. No lectures, just leading by example. He was unaffected by fame, even when he met his idol Ivan Kozlovsky in Moscow, who called him a «golden nugget». After performances, he never lingered in the theater’s buffet; he went straight home to his family. His best conversation partner remained his beloved wife. Together, they would sit in the kitchen and go over the entire opera again. He was never a member of the Communist Party and didn’t attend political meetings. When asked why, he would reply, «I do my studies at home».
In 1977, Solovyanenko became the first Ukrainian artist to be invited to New York’s Metropolitan Opera. He performed leading roles in twelve operas over two seasons. He received a contract for a third season, but everything was cut short by the Soviet Union’s invasion of Afghanistan. At the farewell, the theater’s director hugged him with tears in his eyes, saying, «Such a strong and beautiful voice has never graced our stage. Your high notes are unmatched; you fill the entire hall with your presence».
After that, he toured the world, performing in Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, Argentina, the United States, Canada, Japan, Germany, Belgium, and Bulgaria. He frequently visited Italy, where he was adored for his talent and perfect command of the Italian language. They offered him opportunities to move there with exorbitant fees, but he remained steadfast. The Bolshoi Theater in Moscow frequently invited him as well, but his heart was always with Ukraine. He preferred living in Kyiv, admiring the slopes of the Dnipro River and the golden-domed churches, the clusters of lilac blossoms, the chestnut candles, and the winding old streets. Singing Chornii bovi…
That year, Anatoliy was nominated for the Lenin Prize but was quickly removed from the list because he didn’t sing Soviet songs and had spent too much time abroad. At that moment, he was hospitalized with a suspected case of lung cancer, and Svitlana was expecting their second child — there was no shortage of worry. Soon, his nomination was reinstated, and he received the prize. Anatoliy decided to donate the entire sum (10,000 karbovants) to the Peace Fund, as he believed nothing was more important than peace and safety on earth.
THE VOICE AND ITS WHIMS
Throughout his life, Anatoliy followed a strict regimen and was a slave to his voice. He avoided indulgences and unhealthy food, abstained from alcohol, and brought along lard and black bread on his tours. He maintained excellent physical condition and expected the same from his family. If Svitlana gained a little weight, he would immediately ask, «Who’s this little dumpling in our house?» Before a performance, they would turn off the phone at home to avoid any interruptions. He would walk to the theater. While abroad, he rarely left the hotel to avoid the harmful effects of the climate. Until the very end, he received letters from people sharing their impressions of his songs and often confessing their personal stories. He always replied to these letters personally. He became a father for the second time at the age of forty-eight and deeply regretted that they hadn’t had a third child — a daughter.
In the 1990s, misunderstandings arose with the opera house’s management, and Anatoliy Solovyanenko was left with no clear future. He found himself sidelined with a pension of forty-nine karbovants and began considering emigration. He obtained a work permit, was accepted into the Italian Artists’ Union, and even scouted for a place to live. But then came a revelation: «I love Italy, but I will hate it if I stay. I want to go home…» And so they returned.
THE LAST JULY
It was the height of berry season. That morning, Anatoliy woke up in good spirits and planned to go to his country house. He wanted to tidy up before the Italian ambassador’s visit, so he was planning to grill some shashlik and chat. His wife offered to drive him, but he chose the bus. Upon arriving in Kozyn, he went to the river, water-skied, lay down to rest, and never got up again. The calendar froze on July 29, 1999. Doctors performed an autopsy and counted seven scars on his heart. It turned out he had endured seven micro-heart attacks while still on his feet.
Calls came in from all corners of the world — from the USA, Argentina, Canada, Israel, Italy, England… Kyiv authorities offered a burial place at Baikove Cemetery, but he was laid to rest under a tall pine tree in Kozyn. The farewell took place at the Philharmonic Hall, and when his coffin was carried out, the crowd greeted it with thunderous applause. It was the only way people could express their endless love for the singer. Along the way, a Ukrainian song was sung.
Since then, he has visited in dreams. Once, it seemed as if he came home and announced that he had a performance soon. His wife burst into tears, knowing that once he stepped onto the stage, he would realize he was no longer among the living. Another time, they were traveling together as a family for a vacation. All around was emerald greenery, exotic flowers, and the «tweet-tweet» of birds. By the wrought-iron gates, they parted once more. Svitlana stayed behind while Anatoliy headed toward his musical paradise.
