In conversation with Olivia Boen: "For me, singing is like sunlight shining through stained glass."

Olivia Boen’s journey into opera feels almost destined; born into a family where music was woven into the very fabric of daily life. With both parents deeply involved in the Lyric Opera of Chicago and grandparents who were music educators, Olivia’s childhood was immersed in a world of sound, artistry, and discipline. Yet, despite this privileged beginning, she learned early that greatness demands more than legacy. It requires vulnerability, hard work, and a willingness to discover one’s own unique voice amid the echoes of tradition.

 

For Olivia, singing is more than technique or performance. It is an intimate, transformative experience, which she often describes as sunlight shining through stained glass: a metaphor for how music can reveal something infinite and deeply emotional within us. This idea shapes her approach to every role she takes on, striving to channel not just notes, but the fragile, radiant humanity behind them. Her artistry is marked by this delicate balance of emotional truth and technical mastery, a blend that invites audiences into profound moments of connection and reflection.

 

As Olivia’s career unfolds on stages across the world, she carries with her the wisdom of her upbringing and the courage forged through challenge. Her voice becomes a bridge—linking the past to the present, the individual to the universal. Through every aria, she offers more than sound; she offers a glimpse of shared humanity, reminding us why opera still holds the power to move, inspire, and transform.

 

Operaversum: Let me start with the classic question: How did you decide to pursue a career in opera singing? 

 

Olivia Boen: I suppose I’m a bit unusual in that both of my parents worked at the Lyric Opera of Chicago—my father just retired after 47 seasons—and they’re both musicians. So, I’ve really never known a world outside of opera. I was quite literally kicking along to the beat in my mother’s womb—I’ve been part of it from the very beginning.

Plus three of my four grandparents were music educators, so music has always been our family’s language; our shared religion, in a way. It’s simply what we do.

 

Of course, I have friends, other children of opera musicians, who didn’t become singers. And it does make you wonder: why does one person follow that path, and another does not?

 

For me, it was the feeling that something was being reflected back at me when I sat in the audience. I recognized it in the characters on stage, but also in the performers themselves; the people who had chosen this life. I didn’t quite know what it was, but I felt drawn to it and wanted to discover it for myself. That’s more or less how I found my way into opera.

 

Operaversum: Considering you were privileged from the very beginning to grow into that world smoothly, would you say you had an easy path into opera?

 

Olivia Boen: I think I was definitely privileged because I had so much access to the opera business. My education in opera began essentially the moment I was born, so I had a head start that most people don’t. And because my parents knew the field so well, they were able to find the best teachers for me. I remember that I played violin and piano, took voice lessons, sang in choirs, played in orchestras, did competitions. I simply had access to everything.

 

From an early age, I was meeting renowned singers backstage after performances. They would share advice and their own reflections, so I was absorbing insider knowledge that most people have to learn through trial and error.

 

Of course, experience is something you can only gain by doing, but in some ways, I almost knew too much, hearing the thoughts of performers who’d been in the business for 40 years, some of whom had become a little jaded. So at twelve, I was already incredibly impressionable.

 

But it was also a double-edged sword. I was never in an environment where people didn’t know what they were talking about. Everyone in my family knew what made a good singer, what made a good musician. Of course, I’m grateful for that upbringing, but it also came with pressure. Not necessarily bad pressure, but still—most kids can sing at home, and their parents might not know if it’s good or not.

 

That for sure wasn’t the case for me. My parents knew exactly whether my singing was good or not. There was pressure, for sure. But it wasn’t a bad thing, and I don’t want to imply they did anything wrong. It was just inherent to the environment. When you’re surrounded by people who really know what they’re listening to, that kind of scrutiny is simply part of growing up.

 

Operaversum: I recently saw and heard you in one of Mozart´s early opera works "Mitridate Re di Ponto" and I was really impressed how you were whirling around and hitting all those coloraturas perfectly. I imagine that’s a very demanding role to perform and sing.

How do you prepare for something like that? How do you tackle such a challenging role?

 

Olivia Boen: It’s interesting—when you get offered a role, especially something new like Mitridate, you tend to approach it piece by piece. You look at each aria and think, “Okay, I think I can probably do that.” But performing the whole thing in one go is a completely different story.

 

I found it more challenging than I expected. I knew it would be the heaviest lift of my season, but it turned out even more demanding. Honestly, with this role, I never felt fully comfortable or confident.

 

And that’s not necessarily something I want to experience too often. But sometimes roles are harder than you imagine, and when that happens, you just have to face it—even if it’s tough.

 

There’s a quote from the Maria Callas film with Angelina Jolie that really stuck with me: “It’s a blessing for an artist to be given a project they’re not sure they can conquer.” At first, I didn’t agree—while rehearsing Mitridate, I just wished I’d figured it all out already. But that experience taught me a lot. It forced me to look at myself closely—to see what I needed to strengthen, what held me back, and what mental habits I had to let go of so I could step aside and simply do the work.

 

So yes, you work hard, and then you find a balance between effort and letting go.

 

Operaversum: That makes sense. I imagine challenging yourself like that, especially with a role you haven’t done before, can be daunting.

 

Olivia Boen: Exactly. That’s when you grow and stretch yourself, moving one step further.

 

Operaversum: Totally reasonable.

 

Olivia Boen: Moreover that experience gave me real perspective on the other roles I’ve sung and the ones to come. They now feel much more manageable because my range, technically and mentally, has expanded. Even though I wouldn’t want to live constantly in that place of uncertainty, wondering if I’m truly capable, it showed me I can handle more than I thought—and that’s empowering.

 

Of course, that clarity only developes during the process, as you work so hard just to reach the level needed, with no guarantee you’ll get there. It’s demanding and requires perseverance. But once you’ve made it, there’s joy and pride. You realize you’re capable of more and ready for the next challenge.

 

And I think it’s important not to stay too long in your comfort zone and embrace the challenges ahead. In the end the core of creativity is innovation; the ability to think in new ways, to strech beyond what we know such that we can develop new skills and perspectives. But to innovate we must allow ourselves to grow. And growth can be uncomfortable. But the more we face it, the more it becomes an essential and even welcome part of the creative process.

 

Creativity can’t thrive in stillness or complacency. The moment you say, “This is comfortable, I’ll stay here,” growth stops and with it, the creative impulse fades.

 

And I mean as you grow older, you get wiser eventually, you get life experience and all these things may also come into the roles you are singing and so you're evolving all the time which makes you as an artist very interesting.

 

Operaversum: That’s really impressive! But I’ve also noticed you perform a wide range of roles—from Mozart to Puccini, Donizetti, Verdi, and even Poulenc.

So how do you prepare your voice for such varied genres? Do you use the same vocal approach, or do you have to adjust your voice depending on the style? 

Olivia Boen: Being in an opera studio or in any kind of "Festanstellung" means that you often take on the repertoire you're assigned to. Some of those composers you mentioned were roles that were simply part of what I was asked to perform. Of course, if something truly didn’t feel right for my voice, I had the ability to say so, but most of the time, I agreed to roles. And in the process, you learn what suits you and in which direction the voice tends to go, which leads me to the point that there is also a significant difference between what your voice is telling you and what your ego is telling you to do.

 

And learning to separate the two is crucial. Eventually we have to quiet the ego enough to really listen to the voice because if we don’t, those ignored signals can manifest as problems, whether technically or vocally.

 

For example when preparing for a variety of roles, even those that appear quite different on the surface, like moving between Donizetti, Verdi, Poulenc, and Mozart, it really comes down to understanding whether the voice can handle all of that. If you're in a place where your technique is healthy and versatile, then it becomes more a matter of stylistic interpretation rather than fundamental vocal change.

 

And I don’t believe in altering the core technical foundation of the voice to fit a particular style. It is rather about bringing intelligence, awareness, and sensitivity to the differences between composers. Singing Poulenc is not the same as singing Verdi. It all requires thoughtfulness, precision and a deep understanding of each composer’s musical and linguistic world. That doesn’t mean everyone needs to sing everything, but personally, I find great joy and stimulation in exploring a variety of repertoire.

 

Ultimately, I try to operate from the belief that my voice is my voice. I’ve built a relationship with it, and ideally, it will tell me whether a piece is appropriate for me or not. My goal is that more and more repertoire is appropriate, which I take as a sign that I’ve built a foundation that is both flexible and secure. From that place, I do the work to be as stylistically accurate as possible, while remaining truthful to who I am as a singer.

 

Operaversum: When you say “putting your ego aside,” what exactly do you mean? I didn’t quite catch that part. Could you explain that idea a bit more in detail?

 

Olivia Boen: For sure! What I mean by the ego is that inner voice that says: "You should do this role." Even if it feels a bit too soon, or slightly too big, the ego insists, to still take on that role because it’s famous, because everyone wants to sing it, because someone said you could do it. The ego is drawn to what feels exciting, glamorous, or validating—what’s juicy, so to speak.

 

Now, that kind of excitement isn’t inherently wrong; those feelings can absolutely be present when your voice is also telling you: "Yes, this role is right for me." But the danger comes when your voice is saying: "No, not yet" and the ego pushes forward anyway. That’s when you need to pause and really listen—because if you don’t, those choices tend to catch up with you later, as in physical consequences, like straining or damaging your voice if you take on something prematurely.

 

But even before that, it can manifest in more subtle ways—like technical compensations that may not be harmful immediately but can lead to deeper issues over time.

 

But in the end it’s not just about vocal health, though. Taking on repertoire that doesn’t suit you yet can create emotional or psychological pressure that isn’t constructive. I really believe that the more we try to stay in alignment with who we are and where we are vocally and artistically, the more we support not only the health of our voices but the longevity of our careers.

 

Operaversum: Well, I get it. But this approach seems to be difficult these days, isn't it?

Olivia Boen: Yes, absolutely—it’s difficult, especially in today’s "operatic climate", where there’s so much pressure on everyone in the industry and significantly less work to go around. Sometimes it feels like you have to say yes, simply because you need to pay your bills. So I truly don’t judge anyone for accepting a role that may not suit them perfectly.

 

There have definitely been times when I have also been questioning having agreed to a role. So any perspective I have on this controversial topic doesn’t come from a place of judgment—it comes from experience and reflection. These are things you learn the hard way, and I’m still learning myself.

 

Even when a major opportunity arises, and deep down you know you're not quite ready, saying "No" can feel impossible. It might seem like the chance, and turning it down could feel like you're risking everything. That’s an incredibly difficult position to be in, and I completely understand the complexity of it.

 

For my part, I haven’t yet been faced with a situation where I had to turn down something truly massive—and I’m grateful for that. But I know those moments may come, and navigating them will be tricky. It’s always a delicate balance between staying true to your long-term path and responding to the realities of the industry. There's no perfect formula—but I think honesty with oneself is key.

 

Operaversum: I remember a quote of yours which deeply stuck with me: “Singing is like sunlight shining through stained glass.” That’s such a beautiful image you paint there. And it got me thinking, what exactly do you mean by that?

Is it about how your inner emotions come through when you sing? And how much emotion can you actually give in a performance? Do you ever have to be careful not to give too much away, as in finding some kind of balance between opening up and holding back?

Olivia Boen: Yes, absolutely. In this metaphor, I see the stained glass as the individual voice which is unique in its colors and patterns. It's already beautiful in its own right, even without illumination. But when sunlight passes through it, the glass is transformed. It becomes something new, something radiant, and that beauty extends outward, filling the space around it.

 

To me, that’s very much what the singing voice is like. The light, perhaps the soul, the emotion, the inner life, passes through the structure of the voice, shaped by its particular color and form, and becomes something greater than the sum of its parts.

 

That quality, the one we can’t quite define, is the emotional resonance. But where does that emotion come from? Is it the soul of the singer? Is it the soul of the music, mingling with the singer’s own essence? I don’t think we can fully answer that. Joy from one person can feel entirely different than joy from another. And perhaps that's because it's being filtered through a different piece of stained glass.

 

Of course, you can give too much - physically, vocally, emotionally. We know what it looks like when an artist overextends themselves and ends up depleted. So, yes, there's a balance that has to be maintained. But I’m also fascinated by the idea that the light itself, the emotional source, could come from something more infinite.

 

That perhaps, rather than being drained by giving, we could learn to connect with a wellspring that doesn’t run dry. That’s something I’m always exploring: how to give deeply and authentically without emptying yourself in the process.

 

Operaversum: Could you explain a bit more by what you mean when you say the light itself could come from something more infinite? I’m really curious about that idea.

 

Olivia Boen: What I mean is that I’m curious about the idea of the light being a regenerative energy source—something that doesn’t diminish through giving, but rather replenishes itself. In that sense, the act of sharing it isn’t depleting; it becomes reciprocal. By giving it, I receive something in return. I imagine the light as something that passes both ways - outward, toward the audience, but also inward, nourishing the self. That exchange, that flow, is what fascinates me.

Operaversum: So you mean an exchange as in resonance between the audience and the singer?

Olivia Boen: Yes, maybe. I’m not entirely sure. But I think it’s not just between the singer and the audience. It might also be between the singer and the composer, or among all the different elements that make up a performance. Somehow, I imagine that this energy, this light, can move in both directions.

 

Just as you can give something through the stained glass, maybe you can also receive something through it. That’s really what I think. And I hope that’s what allows you not to burn out. That the act of giving doesn’t empty you, because there’s something flowing back toward you as well.

 

Operaversum: I believe I understand what you mean, as I really feel it when a singer pours their emotion into an aria or a song. It’s like an energy exchange. Something is being offered through the human voice, and I receive it immediately—it affects me deeply. And perhaps, in some way, that energy comes back to the singer as well.

 

Olivia Boen: Yes, absolutely—you can feel it. But I think that can be tricky at times. To be completely honest, I sometimes find it much easier to be vulnerable in the act of giving than in receiving. For me, it’s often harder to accept appreciation or praise from the outside than it is to offer something of myself. I love giving—sending something out into the space—but receiving can feel more difficult.

 

That said, you can absolutely sense the atmosphere in the room while you're on stage. Not every individual emotion, of course, but there’s a general energy that you can pick up on—something in the air that tells you the audience is with you.

 

Operaversum: So, perhaps opera needs high-profile ambassadors—like Rolex has ambassadors—to help bring opera into the spotlight for those who aren’t already opera enthusiasts. That leads me to wonder: what more could opera do? Social media is one channel, a marketing tool among many, but is opera really leveraging these opportunities effectively? Or is there more to be done?

 

Olivia Boen: Good questions! Some institutions do leverage these opportunities, while others do not. It’s important to remember that, much like in science, you start with a hypothesis and then conduct experiments. Sometimes those experiments succeed, sometimes they don’t, and results can vary between cities due to differing circumstances.

 

Opera exists as a unique ecosystem within the broader arts community, and there’s much we can learn by observing how other arts institutions thrive in various cities. One critical step is for opera to integrate more deeply into local communities. Some places are excelling at this—for example, offering live-streamed performances where people can bring their own chairs and enjoy the show in public spaces. Zurich, New York, and Milan have embraced such initiatives, and these efforts can be incredibly impactful.

 

Beyond this, outreach programs are essential—opera companies must make themselves accessible through lessons, workshops, and community engagement, not just by inviting audiences to attend performances, but by actively going out into the community. Do the city’s residents feel that opera contributes meaningfully to their lives? This connection is vital, especially as securing funding increasingly depends on demonstrating measurable community impact.

 

It’s often challenging to quantify the benefits of activities like singing lessons or youth programs, since outcomes like increased happiness or cultural enrichment aren’t easily measured in numbers. That’s why serving the community authentically is so important—it builds a genuine relationship that encourages audiences to engage with opera because they feel they’re gaining something valuable.

 

Sometimes I feel the approach is reversed—we try too hard to convince people to come to us, rather than asking how we can be of service to them. Screening performances to reach broader communities is one effective way to foster that connection and make opera more accessible.

 

Operaversum: Good point made on how to be of service. And yet what  always strikes me the most is that hardly anyone really knows what goes on inside an opera house. It feels like a mystery to most people!

 

Olivia Boen: Absolutely, I agree. That’s exactly what I mean when I say we have to meet people where they are. We need to make them feel genuinely welcome and show them that attending opera is valuable—that there’s a meaningful reason for them to come.

 

Operaversum: But isn’t this largely a matter of good marketing as well?

 

Olivia Boen: Marketing is certainly one part of it, but it’s more complex. Outreach and accessibility are crucial, as is conversion; the process of encouraging people to move from curiosity to actually attending performances. Yet, beyond all of that, it comes down to creating art that audiences genuinely want to experience. This means prioritizing quality over quantity and maintaining a clear, authentic artistic vision.

 

Operaversum: I totally agree with that point! Dear Olivia, what are your future aspirations as in new projects, opera house debuts, which you can already share with me? 

 

Olivia Boen: Next season, I’m really excited to be returning to Paris in a new production of Satyagraha by Philip Glass at the Garnier. It’s a Philip Glass opera about Gandhi and it is going to be quite an innovative and unexpected production. We’ll see how it turns out! I love being in Paris, so having an excuse to be there for a couple of months is definitely not a hardship.

Operaversum:  A couple of months then?

Olivia Boen: Yes, of course for rehearsals and everything. I made my debut there last autumn, so I’m really looking forward to going back, especially in the spring to experience a different season, which is lovely.

 

Then, in the autumn, I’ll be making my debut as Mimi at Opera North in Northern England. That’s really exciting because Mimi is one of those dream roles for sopranos. It’s such a beautiful part as you listen to it when you’re little and think, “Maybe one day that’ll be me.” Finally I get to have my moment, and luckily, there are quite a few performances, so I can really sink my teeth into the role and explore her more deeply, as it is not just four performances, but more like eight, which is great.

 

And then I’m heading back to the UK next season, but I can’t say much more. There’s a house and role debut involved, so it’s pretty exciting!

 

Operaversum: That sounds amazing. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. But I totally understand you not being able to tell me more right now.

 

But then you can certainly reveal to me what for you makes the magic of opera work?

 

Olivia Boen: Well, watching opera for me is a bit like watching an Olympic sport. So many elements have to come together seamlessly for it to be truly exceptional. If you’re someone who loves figuring out the craft and seeing how all the pieces intertwine, it’s fascinating and worth experiencing. But what I think people really discover when they come to opera is a deeper sense of humanity—a profound feeling of connection with other people that maybe you don’t feel in everyday life.

 

Operaversum: Dear Olivia, thank you so much for all these in-depth insights about your career in opera. Wising you all the best and toi, toi, toi for the next season on stage!