Diary of a sopranist physician (1/3)

Philipp Mathmann: when the voice falls silent

→He performs on the world’s great opera and concert stages, while at the same time pursuing another career just as demanding: that of a physician. Here, the sopranist and countertenor Philipp Mathmann offers a deeply personal account of his daily life.

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Philipp Mathmann: when the voice falls silent

A singer’s life is anything but a smooth ride: learning scores, rehearsing, travelling, rehearsing again, giving concerts, recording… all while trying, if possible, to stay healthy and take care of the voice. But the celebrated sopranist and countertenor Philipp Mathmann goes even further: alongside his singing career, he works as a senior physician in phoniatrics and paediatric audiology at Münster University Hospital. He teaches, is politically and socially engaged, and is raising a young family. In this diary, he shares how he takes on all these lives, on stage as in reality—how they align or collide, what they demand of him, and how it also enriches him.

September 15–21 – Sea, tranquillity…and the first crack in the plan

Yet everything had seemed perfect. In September, Spain’s Costa Blanca was showing itself at its very best: gentle air, a morning light that settled over the coast like a blanket, a calm sea whose mere presence seemed to soothe the breath. I may not like paella, but choosing this region was idyllic. I had decided to use these days not only as a holiday, but also as a period of conscious preparation. The stay had long been planned around a family celebration, and we were gathered there as an extended family.

The plan was simple: sun, sleep, good food, time with the family—and no appointments. But I was also committed to my daily vocal practice sessions, while the others were already lounging on the beach. The voice is an instrument that requires constant care, and each morning, in our sunlit finca, I devoted myself to it: waking up the musculature, opening the resonant spaces, exploring the new repertoire, while outside sandals slapped against the warm stone. An hour later, I felt both grounded and ready for what lay ahead.

And then, on the last day, that slight tingling in the throat. Subtle at first, then more insistent. Overnight, it turned into a burning sensation. During the return flight, it developed into a full-blown cold, with involvement of the larynx. Neither as a singer nor as a doctor do you get to choose such moments: it happens to everyone, once or twice a year. That’s how it is. We remain human.

Angel

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