The emperor's new groove.

Fresh from his star-making turn as pan-sexual emperor Nero, countertenor David Walker comes out--and prepares for his hottest season

Singer David Walker is a master when it comes to scoring a grand operatic entrance. In his November London debut as a sexy emperor Nero in Monteverdi's The Coronation of Poppea with the English National Opera, lie emerged froth the orchestra pit and strode onto the stage ... completely naked. When the tittering audience quieted down and listened to Walker's seductive countertenor, they not only saw a gym-toned physique but also heard a vocal instrument that prompted The Times of London to note that Walker "joins the very top flight of countertenors ... and his film star looks will doubtless ensure him just as great a following."

In this era, which has seen essentially a countertenor revolution, Walker says the fascination of a voice like his lies in its unique quality: "Because of the range--being able to project certain colors or perspectives--it offers a sensuality that a tenor can't do. It's sort of man-woman mixed together." For those not familiar with a countertenor sound, it occupies the territory normally associated with a falsetto or the archaic, surgically altered castrato, often reaching the high A's of a soprano but with lustrous, high volume vibrancy and a healthy vibrato.

By coming out as a gay man in the pages of The Advocate, Walker has also chosen to make his sexuality a downstage-center affair, although his friends and family have known Walker was gay since his mid 20s--when, he says, "it became clear that making love with a man filled out all my DNA."

Coming out to his family was a drama worthy of gritty Italian verismo, Walker recalls. His father, a career marine, responded, "As far as I am concerned, you no longer exist and you cannot call me your father." (Walker's insistence on mutual communication has since softened his father's stance.)

Coming out as a countertenor took some doing too. As a young vocalist, Walker wanted to be a lyric tenor in a high range, singing "big, passionate pieces of music with orchestra." A respected voice teacher in his native Florida instead persuaded him that his tone was that of an exceptional countertenor. "At the time," says Walker, "I was disappointed. I thought I would be limited to a certain type of repertoire, like early Renaissance art songs. But after we worked for two months I started to realize the repertory was much more expansive than I thought. As the voice started to ring true, I thought, I'll embrace this."

The Metropolitan Opera also embraced him, awarding him a coveted Metropolitan Opera National Council award in 1998. Walker has since sung roles in Handel's Rinaldo in Munich, Monteverdi's Il Ritorno d'Ulisse in Patria with New York City Opera, and the drag role of the Sorceress in Purcell's Dido and Aeneas.

But it was The Coronation of Poppea that placed Walker in the operatic major leagues. In a climactic love duet between Nero and the conniving Poppea, the music weaves the countertenor's voice with that of the mezzo-soprano in what is really an act of vocal lovemaking. And Walker's Nero also enjoys an orgy with eight hunky men. "I went down on the floor and got them all intertwined in my legs and around my head," says Walker. "And I was licking them, and they were licking me, and I had an orgasm"--a musical one, that is, rendered by Monteverdi's demanding vocal runs.

This season will be momentous for the young star: He makes his Carnegie Hall debut on January 26 in a solo concert, singing a versatile repertoire including the fiery 7 Spanish Songs by de Falla; on January 17 he sings a benefit recital for Classical Action to benefit Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS; and in February he makes his debut with the Los Angeles Opera as Nireno in Handel's Giulio Cesare.

Walker is eager to sing the title roles of Rinaldo, Giulio Cesare, and Orlando as well as Rossini's Tancredi, all gutsy, heroic characters who share something with one of Walker's gay role models, the late Freddie Mercury. "Not only was he completely comfortable working at it, he was balls-to-the-wall kicking ass," says Walker in admiration. "He had an amazing amount of musical variety. And there was no wussiness about him."

Carman also writes for The New York Times.