Considering that Joyce DiDonato is one of the world’s most glamorous opera stars, I initially feel short‑changed by the petite figure who sits opposite me in an overly bright meeting room in the bowels of the Royal Opera House. It’s a crisp, cold day and she is hugging herself tightly in a white woollen polo neck, sharp-featured but unassuming. And then she opens her mouth, not to sing, alas, but to hold forth about the state of the world, her famous Kansas drawl only slightly softened by years of travelling.

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