Gun Kronzell-Moulton
*06.07.1930 †06.04.2011
was born in Kalmar, Sweden on July 6th 1930. Early on, my mother showed in
passionate interest in music. She played the main part in the school play about
“The Smallest Little Santa” and
danced ballet to the sounds of “The Blue Danube Waltz”.
The family vacations in San Remo, Nice and Monte Carlo were memorable, but the
visits to Stockholm, though, were the start
of her love affair with opera. Here, she could share her love of music with her
father. It was at this point that she really started to adore what happened on
the opera stage. She and her family would travel to Stockholm in order to see the
greatest stars sing. She and her very witty father Knut would be riveted, while
her brother and mother found it witty that the singers died at the end and then
went to thank for the applause. Soon enough, Gun Margareta Kronzell knew what
she wanted to achieve: becoming a singer.
She now had solos in
local concerts. This lead to singing studies for Ernst Reichert in Salzburg as well as the
legendary Russian singer Madame Skilonsz in Stockholm after her debut as a
singer in 1949 in the Cathedral of Kalmar. Ragnar Hultén tried to force upon
her a vibrant volume of the voice; nevertheless Skilonsz truly perfected her
technique. Sebastian Peschko worked meticulously on every single consonant and
vowel. She became an expert.
Her first capital
dwelling was in the French Dominican Abbey for Nuns in Stockholm. It was there she
discovered her love for Gregorian Music. She then moved to a tiny apartment in Stockholm’s old city to study day
and night at the Royal Music Academy, where she spent her
formative years and worked with many a later famous singer. She sang in the
opera with people like Jussi Björling, toured Europe with Eric Ericsson’s
famous choir and sang the solo alto and soprano parts in oratories. Lasse
Lönndahl was the operetta tenor turned famous pop star at this time and he was
her colleague in Stockholm.
She sang Elisabeth in Tannhäuser as well as the Countess in The Marriage of Figaro during the
Academy years, something that would prepare her for the countless opera roles
she would conquer in her lifetime.
In
1952, my mother spent three months studying in Salzburg and lived in the centre
of town. She here met Bishop Bonifaz Madersbacher at the side entrance of the City
Dome and this companionship would become the most important of her life. They
would correspond and write letters to each other every time she felt dire about
anything. Even when he moved to Bolivia and founded a Christian
congregation there, he would answer her questions truthfully and eloquently.
Bishop Bonifaz remained her most valued friend her entire life.
As
soon as she was awarded Norway’s Rudd Foundation
Scholarship by Kirsten Flagstad, she moved to Wiesbaden and studied for the
legendary pedagogue Paul Lohmann. He had lost an arm in the war, but his skills
as a singer gave him the greatest flexibility. He would work with her
meticulously on every note and every single letter of the alphabet.
Gun
Kronzell worked at the opera of Wiesbaden and launched a great
career. From here on, she moved to Bielefeld and still speaks of
this place as her greatest career experience. She here got to sing the greatest
roles: Dorabella, Asucena, Abigail, Eboli and Santuzza. She in actuality got
into her own as a prominent character-actress and brilliant mezzo-soprano. The
media discovered her talents and she began attaining truly first-class
critiques. She also had a great deal of success singing oratories and concert
music, among other in London Festival Hall and in the Vienna Stephan’s
Cathedral. Working simultaneously at a home for mentally ill children was a
wonderful change. The children gave her the reality check she needed.
After
that came engagements, among others in Augsburg, Paris, London, Recklinghausen, Köln, Essen, Lübeck, Berlin and Regensburg. Her great reviews
became well-known and people spoke of Gun Kronzell as one of the fresh
principal mezzos of Germany. The amazing thing was
her range: she sang in all registers. The famous opera singer James King, when
hearing her voice, burst out: “Jesus Christ, what a voice!”
Hannover was a bright
professional position for her. From here she guested all over the country. By
now she had sung and would sing most of the great roles: Erda in Rheingold, Kundry in Parsifal, Ortrud in Lohingrin, Brünhilde in The
Ring, Adriano in Rienzi,
Brangaene in Tristan und Isolde,
Emilia in Othello, Eboli in Don Carlos, Dame Quickly in Falstaff, Abigaille in Nabucco, Czipra in Zigeunerbaron, The Innkeeper in Boris
Gudonov, Chiwria in The Fair at
Sorotchinzk, Santuzza in Cavalleria
Rusticana, Asucena in Trovatore,
the mother in Hänsel and Gretel,
Orpheo in Orpheo ed Euridice, the
leading part in Antigone, Ludmilla in
The Bartered Bride, The Countess and
Madelon in Andrea Chenier, The Old
Woman in Die Doppelgängerin, Begonia
in Der Junge Lord and Ulrica in A Masked Ball.
To
this was added a wide range of recitals and church concerts and a huge
repertoire of almost any composer imaginable. She became a vast
Bach-specialist. All of the Bach oratories were sung in most of the continental
cathedrals. Furthermore, Gun Kronzell’s knowledge of Brahms, Copland and
Gershwin was astounding. Her fantastic interpretation of songs like “Did they shut me out of heaven, did I sing
too loud?” or “My Man’s Gone Now” was
a feast for the ears.
1966
was a pivotal year. She studied for a teacher named Köhler and here met a young
baritone named Herbert Eyre Moulton, who recently had moved to Germany from Dublin. She found it
fascinating that he always took off his shoes when he sang. They met by chance
at the post office and my mother asked him if he would talk English with her.
My father’s joke was that he, after that, never shut up. That was typical for
my father’s sense of humour.
They
married in Bad Godersberg in 1966. Exceedingly fast, they began singing
together and forming a successful team. My father taught my mother everything
he knew about musical comedy. Together, they performed in the Hannover Opera
House in operas such as Der Rosenkavalier
and Zar und Zimmermann. Their
long collaboration as The Singing Couple
brought them not only European tours, but also concerts in the United States.
In Ireland, my parents performed
on Irish television in a talk show between a Russian spy and a prize winning
cow. I was conceived during this tour. I must’ve heard a great deal of music
during my mother’s pregnancy. My parents moved to Graz, where my dad worked as
an actor and a teacher. My mom worked at the opera and had to take mother’s
leave simultaneously with another colleague. This other colleague had a child
simultaneously with my mother. I ended up working with him 32 years later in
Bad Hersfeld.
I have always been prone
to eccentricity. I was born close to brewery in Graz and opposite gay couple
with chickens in their yard. She was on constantly on stage. She sang for the
Swedish King in 1970, but also came late for a concert because of a royal
entourage of Her Majesty the Queen of England. She was royal in her artistry.
I do recall the next
stop, Mödling, and my babysitter Tante Wolff with her apple strudel. I recall
her German Shepherd at whom she would always shout “Schnaps!”
My
mother sang at the Volksoper in Vienna, among others a world
premiere of Salmhofer’s “Dreikönig”, where she received rave reviews.
In Sweden, she started working as
a Gothenburg Music Academy singing teacher in
1974. Her work at the opera also included Ulrica in Verdi’s A Masked Ball in Swedish, which she had
already sung in Italian in Hannover.
Their
performance in Osage, Iowa in 1976 was my first
family concert experience. For the encore, I wandered up on stage and sang with
in “Wien, Wien, Nur Du Allein”.
From 1979 on, she
freelanced. In retrospect, it was admirable how my parents would keep us
financially above water. My mother’s inventiveness was astounding. She wrote,
directed and starred in a play called “Long Live the Trolls”. This was my first
acting experience. She even toured with famous comedians in Swedish schools. I
was her colleague at that time during my second production. She taught
organists how to sing in Oskarshamn and held church music seminars. She taught
private and official speech and vocal classes in a variety of schools and even
taught Chinese immigrants Swedish and Stena
Line Disc Jockeys how to articulate well into a microphone. She played the
Goddess Justitia in a communist play
about the fall of capitalism. My father and I, being true monarchists like my
mother was, were a bit bothered. Prime Minister Olof Palme, who was murdered a
few years later, came to watch and we were the only one not standing up when
the audience sang the socialist songs. We knew the truth, though: my mother,
like all actors, did it for the experience
Her
extensive concert experience brought her good reviews and her work for the Gothenburg Ballet Academy gave her
wide-ranging attention from the press. She started to come into her own as a
singing teacher. Her broad knowledge from various teachers now gave her
expertise how to teach every imaginable style. Sebastian Peschko had taught her
how to enunciate the alphabet. Paul Lohmann gave her a smooth legato. Köhler
widened her range. Now she could use speech exercises such as Myavabranya, Pradgaflaspya and Yakaganga to perfect her student’s
consonants.
It was exactly this
experience that brought her the offering of three professorships at once. Tucson, Arizona and Graz, Austria had wanted her, but the
lure of the engagement in Vienna was too strong. The
teaching try-out here was also the best of all of her auditions. By 1984, she
had already auditioned in two Austrian cities for a professorship and applied
in three American cities. Vienna won the personal award
and so the family moved there. This was the start of a 26 year stay in the city
where she sang over 300 concerts and taught students that eventually would work
with the likes of Pavarotti. Her students would eventually end up singing at
the Vienna State Opera, in Bern, Zurich, Cairo, St. Petersburg, Malmö, London, New York, Örebro, Växjö, Copenhagen, Hamburg, Gelsenkirchen and Stockholm.
Her student Judith was
Luciano Pavarotti’s personal assistant for eight years. This gave us all
intimate contact with the master and free tickets for many of his galas. Many
opera stars like June Andersson, Nicolai Gedda, Claudio Abbado, Ricardo Muti,
Per Grundén and Ingvar Wixell became acquaintances of ours through Luciano, if
they hadn’t been so before. Gedda was an old friend of my parents from when my
dad had worked in Ireland. When we met him again
in Vienna in the 1980’s he told my father: “We are older
today, but we are still gorgeous.” Gedda was kind enough to train a tenor
student of my mother’s for free before he left Vienna as a service of
gratitude to my mother.
My
mother’s wide experience made her arrange numerous appearances for her students
in such diverse places as Bamberg, Germany, Langentzersdorf, Austria and Kalmar, Sweden. Three Croatians became
the charity centre of media attention in Sweden and so my mother became
what she had been for a long time: a charity organization.
In
1998, she retired from the academy, but kept on performing actively until and
after she moved to Gelsenkirchen in 2010 closer to her
son and his lovely family (!). She had taken care of my father so well until he
died in 2005. Now, I could take care of her. She had seen us so often from a
distance, so now it was time to live close to us herself. What a better way to
crown a glorious career than to follow her son’s career up close and personal
in his own theatre? Every day provided a new gathering. She saw me in my
biggest Gelsenkirchen role yet: Sam in Bernstein’s Trouble in Tahiti and marvel at how fast I ran down the stairs and
at the clearness of my lyrics.
She also planned on
auditioning her Brünhilde for our
theatre superintendent.
My
mother had a glorious career and her personality was wide open and full of
love.
She
passed away on April 6th 2011.
Her
soul is free.