
Czech Forbes: We Must Start Thinking About Culture Differently, Says Singer Bella Adamova
Alexandra Střelcová - original article in Czech here
translated by ChatGPT
She originally wanted to be a jazz singer. But when she heard recordings of opera legend Maria Callas at the age of sixteen, the decision was made. Mezzo-soprano Bella Adamova studied classical singing in London, Cologne, and Hanover, and improvisation at the Basel Academy of Music. A few years ago, she returned to Prague, where she had grown up as a child. And in the traditionally rigid environment of classical music, she immediately caused a small stir.
Her cosmopolitan approach to life and repertoire is impossible to overlook. She moves across genres with an ease that is rare in classical music. She naturally switches between several world languages, enjoys working with artists outside her field, and sees music as a means to tell her own story—always through a coherent concept.
She was born in Grozny, the capital of Chechnya, shortly before the wars began. Her family first moved to Moscow, but due to increasing oppression of the Chechen community in Russia, they relocated to Prague. She was three years old at the time.
She describes herself as a "third culture kid"—a term used in English for people who grow up outside their original community and blend different cultural influences. She is proud of her roots, but she also admits that she has already received too many intrusive questions about her background during her time in Prague.
She has managed to turn life’s challenges into her greatest asset—inner strength and an openness to crossing boundaries. While others might struggle with a sense of rootlessness or the inability of music critics to categorize them, Bella fully enjoys the overlaps between genres and cultures and deliberately breaks all traditional expectations of an opera singer.
With her signature grace, she sings songs by Gustav Mahler, Handel’s arias, works by contemporary composers, and adds a pinch of jazz and improvisation.
The theme of home and belonging is also reflected on her most recent album, There is Home (2023). She recorded it together with German pianist Michael Gees, and it features songs by Mahler, Mussorgsky, and Britten, as well as improvisations on the poetry of Anna Akhmatova, Pablo Neruda, and her own poems.
The unconventional collage on the album cover, created by award-winning photographer Michaela Karásek-Čejková, caused a wave of criticism and surprise in the conservative world of classical music. But it only encouraged Bella to push boundaries further.
The name Bella Adamova suddenly appeared on the Czech music scene. Why is that?
Bella Adamova appeared because she’s incredibly stubborn and can’t help herself. And she knows exactly what she wants.
So what is it that you want?
I know that in the Czech Republic it’s not very popular to say this out loud, that people are supposed to keep it to themselves. But everything is thought out. I didn’t just think about it from an artistic point of view, I also studied the careers of other artists who are two or three steps ahead of me.
I watched what they did, which competitions they went to, and what happened to them afterward. Or who their agent was. Simply put, I tried to find out why they were where they were. And then I tried to take all the steps necessary to get where they were.
That’s how I, for example, applied to the song academy at the Heidelberger Frühling festival. It didn’t work out—I tried three times and wasn’t accepted. But in the end, I still sang at their festival.
Or the Franz Schubert song competition in Graz. I went there knowing I wanted to win. That’s why I approached the song professor and pianist Jan Philip Schulze in Hanover—he’s a specialist in contemporary music, and many of his students have won competitions.
When I came to him with the repertoire I wanted to present at the competition, he said no to everything. I discreetly shed a tear because I realized I would have to learn a million new things, which would be more difficult than what I originally wanted to present. But in the end, this experience pushed me forward and shaped my current artistic profile.
That was in the summer of 2022, but preparations began long before. I thought about that competition for about five years before I even went. The fact that I’m more visible now is the result of ten years of systematic thinking about what I want, what I’m capable of, and what I’m good at.
Blending different genres and cultures is characteristic of your work. How do you explain that?
It started at school in London, where I studied at Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance. We had, for example, an improvisation competition. But my love for variety has always been in me. I don’t know why—it’s drawn me in from the beginning.
But after school, you returned to Prague. At one point you were also working in your family’s café in the city center.
Things weren’t going well for a long time. During COVID, for instance, no concerts were canceled for me—because I didn’t have any to begin with! It wasn’t a step back for me, more like business as usual. I didn’t lose much, I just saw how these things work. I continued preparing for competitions and worked on myself.
And the café job? Even during lockdowns, we kept the takeaway window open. I was glad to have somewhere to go.
But then everything suddenly changed. When was that?
It was the Schumann competition in Zwickau in June 2021, where I won the main prize. Shortly after that, I went to Innsbruck for a baroque music competition. I didn’t win anything, but I found out I could at least make it to the finals. And that was a pleasant realization.
I always had a gut feeling that things would work out, but I didn’t know how. But when the world starts to hint that it might see things the same way you do, you start gaining courage.
Watching livestreams of competitions also helped me a lot. Suddenly there was proof of how imperfect even the winners are. I don’t mean that in a bad way—it’s a nice feeling to know that you don’t have to be flawless to succeed. You just have to have something extra.
What do you think that “extra” is—at least in your case?
Authenticity and an honest approach to oneself. Point of view. Having an opinion. There are lots of good singers and musicians, and each has something unique. I like sharing my own stories through music and improvisation. This kind of interpretation is called radical vulnerability in English. Thanks to improvisation, I can get into the present moment much faster. It’s a form of meditation for me.
Your steep rise culminated last year, at least for now, with a performance at the BBC Proms in London. Together with the Czech Philharmonic under Jakub Hrůša and other soloists, you performed Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass. Was such a stylish return to London a form of vindication for you?
Totally! I left London in 2014—with a degree in my pocket but no job. I wasn’t the most successful in my class, I didn’t get into the master's program. At that time, I had health problems and missed auditions. So the return to the BBC Proms was absolute vindication for me. London is like Mount Everest in our field.
Your new agency, IMG Artists, which has represented you since last December, is also based in London. On the Czech scene, you’re represented by the Makropulos agency. How does working with agents even function?
This is something I talked about with Martina Výrková (director of the Makropulos agency) from the start—that our collaboration would primarily focus on the Czech Republic and Slovakia. It makes sense because a smaller agency, no matter how great, simply can’t cover the whole world. I’m incredibly happy to be part of Makropulos, but that’s the reality.
So we said right at the beginning that if something came from abroad, she’d be happy for me. She’s an honest person whom I respect, and in the Czech Republic I couldn’t imagine a better partner to go into this with. I have someone I can trust—and that’s a gift I definitely don’t take for granted. She supported me in this from the start.
Being represented by an international agency is often a big milestone in an artistic career. What do you expect from it?
What impressed me about my current agent, Thomas Walton, was that he represents singers with a distinctive and specific profile. They often work with conceptual dramaturgy, perform contemporary music, and seek new pathways. He also represents conductors—which for me is the perfect combination.
I approached him because I’m not mainstream. I’m not going to audition at the Metropolitan Opera singing Verdi arias. Maybe that will change in the future, but that’s not who I am right now. And I knew I couldn’t be with just any agent who wants to be part of the standard opera circuit.
Everything happened the way it was supposed to. When I first heard about him, I had a feeling he would be my agent. And then I didn’t write to him for half a year—I waited for my moment. That moment came at the BBC Proms. My eight bars got a lot of positive reviews. I heard that Thomas was there, so I reached out to him.
How do you choose your repertoire?
For example, I’m now singing things I started learning when I was eighteen. But back then I didn’t yet have the vocal capacity for them. From the beginning, I knew I wanted to sing all of Mahler’s songs. The only one I still have to learn is Das Lied von der Erde. That’s the one Mahler I must sing before I die. Everything else, with a bit of exaggeration, I don’t care about.
There’s excellent repertoire for my vocal type, but it’s rarely performed in the Czech Republic. My dream roles include Charlotte from Werther, Lucretia from Britten’s The Rape of Lucretia, and Carmen. The biggest wish with the new agency is to reach those artistic dreams—and also the right major opera roles.
Do you want to move more toward opera stages?
Definitely, I love acting. I talk a lot about concert work because I enjoy programming—I’ve always been drawn to creating concepts. But in opera, as a singer, you’re part of a big machine. When it works, it’s a dream; when it doesn’t, it’s just a job.
Along with your well-thought-out repertoire, it seems you also have a well-thought-out image. How much does the concept of branding play a role in your artistic world?
I’ve always liked how transparent Lady Gaga is when she talks about herself as an artist. She views her work more like a brand—it’s her, but at the same time, it’s not. I think modesty doesn’t belong to an artist’s persona; it belongs to our private lives. Many people are ashamed to have ambitions and to think about how they appear to others. I think about that too—but not in terms of myself, rather in terms of my art.
I see my art as a Gesamtkunstwerk. For me, a concert is above all an aesthetic experience. In an ideal world, I would want to create projects where it’s not just about programming and repertoire, but also about what I’ll wear, the lighting, video projections—and even the scent or flowers in the space. If there were no budget limits, I’d even consider what the audience should wear and what cocktails they should drink. In an ideal world, I would be the curator of everything. I follow my instinct and try to feel what seems right.
Is there someone outside the music field you enjoy collaborating with?
Collaborating with photographer Michaela Karásek-Čejková, who created the cover for There is Home, was a big deal for me. I really love what she does. When I was preparing to approach her, I was sure she’d never say yes. But we ended up becoming friends. I also really enjoy the work of Nikol Bóková. Both of them think globally, not just within their own fields. I also like the aesthetic sensitivity of designer Martin Kohout.
There’s often no budget for these collaborations. I financed the album photos from my own resources. I found a stylist and a makeup artist and went into the whole project with the mindset that this was my investment—because this is how I want it.
It makes me sad when I don’t have time for these things. When I had less work, I had much more energy to refine all of this. I’d really like to work with a stylist long-term so we can have everything ready in advance.
CDs are a kind of concept these days too, aren’t they?
CDs today are terribly expensive business cards. They’re a piece of art—I don’t see them as commercial products, or at least not until I have a bigger name. I’m building something that will remain after me, shaping how people will perceive me. That’s what’s left after our artistic activity. What remains of Maria Callas? Her recordings.
This way of conceptual thinking I’ve taken more from pop and mainstream music. Björk. Kendrick Lamar. Radiohead. But also, for example, the soprano Anna Prohaska. Or pianist Michael Gees, with whom I recorded my last two CDs.
So I’m definitely not reinventing the wheel. This is already happening abroad—I’m not a pioneer.
So how do you think about your next steps? What are your near-future plans?
I have plans for both chamber recordings and recordings with orchestra. It will definitely be 20th-century music. Together with Pavel Černoch and Jan Bartoš, we’re preparing, among other things, Leoš Janáček’s song cycle The Diary of One Who Disappeared, which will also be released as a recording for Supraphon.
In Prague, we’ll be performing the song cycles of Alma and Gustav Mahler on April 9. In Denmark and France, we’re planning a staged concert version of Kurt Weill’s ballet The Seven Deadly Sins. And with conductor Tomáš Netopil, we’re preparing a baroque program.
What would you wish for the Czech scene in the future?
That classical music wouldn’t be pushed aside, separated from other arts. I’d like other artistic fields to welcome us among them. They still look at us like we’re oddballs who don’t belong—but we are part of culture too. On the other hand, we’re partly to blame for that ourselves. I’d like us to stop dividing culture by genre and start thinking about it differently.
When I think about repertoire, I think about themes. We talk about love, about feeling like an outcast, about racism, about gender inequality—and how we can come together to discuss these themes through art. I have several future projects in mind that go beyond the boundaries of classical music, and I’d like us to be talked about in the mainstream again. In general, I don’t like division. For me, the goal is to unify.