Mark Gresham | 23 FEB 2025
Baritone Michael Mayes is no stranger to playing complex, often menacing characters. From the tormented barber Sweeney Todd to the chilling Joseph De Rocher in Dead Man Walking, his repertoire is filled with figures whose moral trajectories are at the heart of the operas they inhabit. But in Verdi’s Macbeth, opening March 1 with The Atlanta Opera, Mayes faces a new kind of challenge: portraying a character who has already reached the peak of his ruthlessness.
In this conversation with EarRelevant publisher Mark Gresham, Mayes delves into his approach to Verdi’s version of the Scottish king, reflecting on how the role compares to his past performances and the unique storytelling power of opera. He also discusses his experiences with recent productions that challenge traditional interpretations, such as a futuristic reimagining of Nixon in China and his role in the world premiere of The Righteous. Through it all, Mayes offers insight into what it means to embody larger-than-life characters who, for better or worse, leave an indelible mark on their worlds.
Mark Gresham: Is this your first Macbeth?
Michael Mayes: Yeah, it’s my first time with the ultimate psychopath.
Gresham: Tell us about the role and your approach to it.
Mayes: Well, many of the characters I tend to get cast as follow what I call a “monstrous trajectory.” When you’re doing Scarpia, or Joseph De Rocher in Dead Man Walking, or other traditional antagonists, there’s usually a clear arc: either you’re a man who becomes a monster over the course of the show, or a monster who becomes human. With Joseph, for example, the first thing the audience sees is the horror of his crimes. Then, throughout the opera, the question is answered: How does someone become this way? What happens to make them like this?
Michael Mayes as Joseph De Rocher in The Atlanta Opera’s 2019 production of “Dead Man Walking,” which became one of his signature roles, with Jamie Barton as Sister Helen Prejean. (credit: Jeff Roffman)
With Macbeth, we start with the psychopath already at the end of his monstrous journey. It’s like the last chapter. There’s no redemption, no real explanation for why he is the way he is. His actions alone define him, leaving the audience to interpret his character through what he does.
It’s been a fascinating role to explore. He’s a tragically flawed, despotic ruler, and watching how his actions unfold in the lives of those around him is truly horrific.
Gresham: This ties into other antagonist roles you’ve been cast in. I noticed that in 2024, you performed Sweeney Todd again—a role in which you made your Atlanta Opera debut in 2018.
Mayes: That was with Utah Opera. And Megan [Mareno]—my wife—played the Beggar Woman. That dynamic was really cool to explore because, if you know the plot, you know what happens between Sweeney and his wife. He unknowingly murders her at the end. That added a whole new layer to our performances, and the emotional intensity between us and the audience was incredibly powerful.
Gresham: I want to touch on some of your other roles from 2024. One is Nixon in John Adams’ Nixon in China with Stuttgart Opera, and some of the peculiarities of that production.
Mayes: Nixon in China was one of the coolest projects I’ve ever done. Coming up in the American opera system, you hear a lot of the older generation refer to European theater—especially German Regietheater—as “Eurotrash” because it moves away from traditional, period-perfect productions. I jokingly call those “Renaissance Fair Opera,” where everything is a faithful historical reenactment.
What made Nixon in China so interesting was how it broke away from that approach: Instead of a literal depiction of Nixon’s visit to China—the so-called “CNN opera” version with an airplane, Nixon lookalike, and stereotypical depictions of Mao and company—the production reimagined the story in a futuristic setting. It took place on the moon at an international summit where China was the new superpower, representing a diverse, globalized culture, while America was the old guard.
Visually, it was striking. I looked more like Gary Cooper with a handlebar mustache than Richard Nixon. Pat Nixon wore an antebellum Civil War-era gown. Because we shifted the setting, we didn’t have to grapple with the racial and cultural stereotypes that often come with historically-grounded productions. Instead of being bound by those constraints, we were free to fully explore the themes of the piece.
l-r: Shigeo Ishino (Kissinger) and Michael Mayes (Nixon) in the Staatsoper Stuttgart production of “Nixon in China.” (credit: Mattias Baus)
For instance, Chairman Mao was played by Mathias Klink, a German singer with a pronounced accent. In this futuristic setting, that casting made perfect sense. The production wasn’t about reenacting a historical event but telling a deeper, more universal truth. Opera and theater are at their best when they tell a story that resonates beyond the literal facts of history.
Gresham: And in the same American vein, you had another premiere lead role in The Righteous with Santa Fe Opera. Can you relate just a little bit about that?
Mayes: It was a project that, in our time now, you could see sparking a lot. It’s about a preacher who starts with a small congregation, becomes very popular, and then rises to be one of the most prominent televangelists of his time. He ends up marrying into a powerful oil family, and through that connection—through those political connections—he goes from being a preacher to the governor of a state much like Texas, though it’s never explicitly stated in the story.
Unlike Macbeth, this man clothes his ambition and thirst for power in the vestments of religion. He masks his ambition, whereas Macbeth does not. Macbeth’s ambition is naked—there’s no pretense, no claim that he’s acting in the name of the Lord or for the good of the people. It’s purely about power for him and his wife—just a raw, unfiltered power grab. It’s a bloody, brutal story. The characters of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are utterly bereft of empathy or kindness.
We’ve seen people like this throughout history. Usually, they try to hide their intentions behind a higher cause, but Macbeth doesn’t even make the attempt. There’s no moral struggle for him—he’s not tormented by ethical dilemmas. The only thing he worries about is getting caught. He’s essentially a coward. And when you have a coward leading a nation, things can get very dark for the people under their rule.
Gresham: Given that Macbeth is a Shakespearean tragedy from centuries ago, adapted into a 19th-century opera, do you see it as a cautionary tale for our times? Or something else?
Mayes: These are the oldest stories. They’ve happened time and time again. I try to avoid drawing direct comparisons to today’s world because that can become simplistic and self-serving. Of course, Shakespeare was aware of what was happening in his time, but I think we make a mistake when we filter every story through the lens of current events.
It’s easy to say, “Oh, look, this is just like today.” But when every story is driven through that prism, it becomes more about our own political or sociological opinions rather than the story itself. That’s not my job. My job is to tell the story and let the audience take from it what they will.
You could say, “Oh, Macbeth is just like this leader from the 60s, or the 50s, or the late 19th century.” Sure. But that’s because there are no new stories. Fast forward 100 years into the future, and someone could say, “Macbeth is just like our alien overlords, the Zebra-Flats.” You can always extrapolate meaning from a story, but at the end of the day, it’s a story.
End of the line: Michael Mayes as Kaiser Overall in The Atlanta Opera’ s 2020 production of “The Kaiser of Atlantis.” (credit: Ken Howard)
And it doesn’t have to be about a government. Despotic, unempathetic people with naked ambition exist at every level of life—in families, communities, churches, and professional organizations. Power is seductive, and people often think of seduction in a sexual sense. But in Macbeth, there’s no real love between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth—just ambition. It’s a marriage of convenience. There’s passion, sure, but not love—not the kind of love I have for my wife and the people I truly care about.
Gresham: On the one hand, there is Shakespeare’s dense, poetic five-act tragedy, and then here we have Verdi’s opera based on it, but with music and condensed into a tighter, more linear structure to fit operatic conventions and give it a faster pace. There are merits to each, of course.
Mayes: One may think, “Why would I go see an opera based on Shakespeare? I can just go see the Shakespeare play.” The good thing about music is that it communicates the unspoken, right? Genius actors can do that with spoken lines, but opera helps us along. It gives us a musical landscape in which to place this story. The thoughts and feelings of the characters, along with references to previous moments, help us subconsciously understand the narrative in a different way.
That’s the benefit of coming to an opera as opposed to a straight play. I’m not saying one is better than the other, but it’s just a different experience. Watching a movie without a soundtrack is a whole lot less interesting. Anytime you watch a film with a great soundtrack—like one of my favorites, There Will Be Blood—it has an incredible emotional impact. There’s not a single word spoken for the first 15 or 30 minutes, just this incredible piece by Arvo Pärt woven into the narrative. It completely changes how you experience the film.
Music does that. And if there’s anyone with the biggest emotional baseball bat, it’s Giuseppe Verdi. His music is pure emotion. You’re going to feel every single moment these characters go through emotionally and hear what that sounds like—interpreted by a fantastic orchestra like the Atlanta Opera Orchestra. And the chorus—oh my goodness.
I’ve been coming here for years, and as an artistic advisor, I’ve watched the Atlanta Opera grow. It’s the only company in the country that’s expanding rather than contracting. That’s no accident. They tend to do things right here. Watching everyone grow in their roles—especially what Rolando has done with the chorus and the sounds he’s getting from them—it’s really fantastic.
Gresham: After Macbeth is one, you’re going to Houston to sing the role of the Councilman in Missy Mazzoli’s Breaking the Waves with Houston Grand Opera in April, but that’s not a lead role, I take it.
Mayes: I’ve been going solid for three years now with very few breaks, and every time, I’m either the antagonist or the protagonist. It’s fulfilling and artistically rewarding but also exhausting. Most of what I’ve done has been new. I did the title role in [Olivier Messiaen’s] Saint François d’Assise with Stuttgart Opera [in 2023], which was eight hours long—that was exhausting.
The role of the Councilman isn’t insignificant, but his impact is very focused in different parts of the show. I’m looking forward to being able to sing, then have some days off between rehearsals—to sit back, relax, and actually process what I did the day before instead of moving through every single day in a white-hot panic.
Gresham: This particular role of Macbeth, however, must be exhausting, requiring an elevated kind of raw emotion.
Mayes: Yeah, I mean, it is exhausting, but it’s a little less so because he’s not as complex in some ways. We talk about the finality of evil—when you meet someone who is purely evil, like he is, or craven, it’s different. I don’t have to go through the same kind of emotional torment that I would if I were playing, say, an eight-hour role like Saint François. That’s a long journey, my man. Or a character like David in The Righteous, where I’m dealing not just with the character’s complexity but also with personal resonance from my own life. I grew up in a missionary Baptist family, with a preacher as my grandfather—who was the polar opposite of David—but still, all those personal connections come into play.
Michael Mayes (David) and Greer Grimsley (Paul) in the world premiere of “The Righteous” at Santa Fe Opera, 2024. (credit: Curtis Brown)
So, playing a character that doesn’t have that personal resonance for me is different. I don’t think I’m a psychopath, and I’m definitely not consumed with naked ambition for power—I’m just a singer. In between everything else, my wife and I run the Creede Musical Arts Collective, a summer music festival in Creede, Colorado, where we now live. We also have our bluegrass band, the Midnight Cricket Club, which we play with here in the States. When I’m in Germany, I perform with an R&B band and a blues band. My pop music language has expanded a lot, and I find it very restorative. A lot of musicians might have hobbies like boat building or origami—mine is just playing a different kind of music.
I also love going back to Houston. I grew up in Cut’n’Shoot, Texas, so I have a lot of friends who come to my shows. My sister is probably one of the best box-office draws for the Houston Grand Opera—whenever she comes, she brings about 60 people with her. I love playing music with my old country friends, like Granny Lindley and Amber Digby. Getting back to my roots in Houston is always something I look forward to.
Gresham: In the meantime, we in Atlanta look forward to seeing your performance as Macbeth with the Atlanta Opera, starting this weekend.
Mayes: I’ll be the one covered with blood. ■
EXTERNAL LINKS:
- Michael Mayes: michaelmayesbaritone.com
- The Atlanta Opera: atlantaopera.org
- Cut and Shoot, Texas: cutandshoot.org
Editor’s note: the city’s formal name is Cut and Shoot, while the colloquial form is Cut’n’Shoot, as it appears on Mayes’ website and in the conversation above. Both forms appear on Google Maps at different zoom levels.
Read more by Mark Gresham.
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