Darius World

Fighting Talk with Darius

Sunday Express 23 May 2010

KNEES touching chin, all 6ft 4in of Darius Campbell, formally known as Danesh, sits folded in the corner of the sofa like a hinged and expensively suited slide rule. We have interrupted the recording of his latest album to talk about his appearance at 2.30pm this afternoon at the O2 Arena as toreador escamillo in the ever-popular opera, Carmen.

Campbell sang composer Bizet’s song Of The Toreador when winning the recent Popstar To Operastar television reality show. One of the world’s most familiar pieces of music, the tune is crashed out at sporting events from the Formula 1 Grand Prix circuit to boxing and football World Cups.

Hoping to start the conversation on a light-hearted ironic note, I wondered if any thoughts of mortality were surfacing as his 30th birthday, known universally as a dangerous age, looms in August.

Perhaps deliberately, he missed the naughty, philandering implications that provoke a nudge and a wink down the pub. “Thoughts of mortality are not alien to me,” he says, fixing me with a solemn but piercing gaze, “but certainly not precipitated by a birthday.”

In particular his father, Booth, 67, was recently diagnosed with cancer. “His battle and nearly losing him before Christmas, also my grandad, Colin Campbell [78], singing the Green Oak Tree to me in hospital when he got emotional, that just did something to me.” What it did was persuade Darius to change his name to Campbell, reportedly causing a rift between him and his parents.

“Also,” he goes on, “I’ve been the male protective figure in the lives of two young boys.” They are the sons of species film star natasha Henstridge, with whom he set up home in LA. He asked her to marry him, then broke it off.

He denies a current relationship but sees his future as a husband and father.

“I think a man’s life is incomplete unless you are willing to give to a fellow human being. All the great love stories, the stories we fall in love with, involve a father, son, lover, it’s important for a man to be all those things.” He refuses to discuss Canadian-born Natasha.

Neither has Campbell, the son of Glasgow doctors, have anything to say about his dismissal from the turn-of-the- century Pop Idol show following a highly idiosyncratic rendition of Britney spears’s Baby, One More Time.

The Pop Idol judges, including Nigel Lythgoe, labelled him a cocky upstart after he advised them, “I have a great gift and it would be a shame not to share it with the world.” Following his departure he said, “I was painted as this overconfident guy with an unshatterable ego but nothing could be further from the truth.”

Somehow, partly by eating humble pie in public through a number of interviews, he appealed to the traditional British urge to champion an underdog and his career has ticked over for a decade. Campbell has popped up twice in the stage show Chicago. There was also a West end appearance in award-winning Guys And Dolls as well as the ill-fated Ł4million Gone With the Wind, which closed after 10 weeks.

He had a no1 single in 2002, as well as a platinum album. He appeared on television last year and has written sink Or swim: My story, a random scatter of achievements that perhaps indicates an opportunistic approach in a notoriously unstable career, grabbing at whatever comes along instead of building on a basic inspiration.

There was a long pause and my heart sank with a gloomy premonition. It was worse than I expected. Much worse. “I’m actually offended by that thought,” he said, with a slight flush on the cheekbones.

“It seems to me you are ignorant of what it means to be a performer, of the necessity to move between the disciplines.” I kept my mouth shut.

“I taught myself the guitar and wrote my first song when I was 12,” he rushes on.

“What you said has got me fired up inside, my artistic core is deeply offended.” Oh, please. “The thought that you think I’m drifting.”

At that point we were both speechless. As a paid-up member of the anything-for-a-quiet-life club I am mortified if I offend a spider and I open my mouth in conciliation, too late.

“I enjoy challenge, I’m a man who loves extreme sports, I’ve done the world’s longest abseil down Table Mountain, I sky dive, bungee jump, swim with sharks.

“I love starting something not knowing where I’m going. What about taking on the role of escamillo in a team of highly respected opera stars?”

Carmen is top director David Freeman’s fabulous production; Cristina nassif and Louise Poole alternate as Carmen, John Hudson and Philip O’Brien share Don José.

“I’ve turned down a lot of enormously financially rewarding work, 10 times the fee I’m getting for Carmen. There are few in the pop world and none in the rock world who would rehearse six weeks for one performance but if that’s what it takes, I will do it, and do it happily. Is that the attitude of a drifter?”

I THOuGHT I’d build bridges and mention my dancing career. “Imagine,” he pounced back, “within the full tapestry of dance you were only ever allowed to dance the tango?” he asked, shifting excitedly in his corner. Touché.

“Today we tend to pigeonhole artists, not so long ago it wasn’t unusual for an actor to burst into song.

“I believe doing just one thing in life is totally boring,” he insists. “I’ve always forged my own way. I turned down simon Cowell’s multi-million-pound recording offer for a difficult path but it proved more satisfying. I said no to every reality TV offer over the past five years to pursue an acting career and only accepted Popstar To Operastar because the best people were involved. My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer.

“My basic ambition as a man is to live without regret,” he finally says, “follow my sense of purpose, live responsibly and within my means and be fulfilled as an actor, writer and songwriter. I know I’m lucky to do what I love. Once in a while they all come together which is the best, like escamillo in Carmen.” so Campbell and I had experienced our crossed wire moments but I reacted like the British public a decade ago. You just cannot help liking the man.