The most performed operatic composer around the world was born 200 years ago this year. He was universal, and yet he was one of the most Italian of artists; he was one of the most criticised of musicians, but also one of the most beloved.

If you are an opera lover, Verdi is probably one of your favourites. If you know nothing about opera, beginning your experience with one of his great works will most definitely get you hooked forever on this wonderful, living and breathing artform, which he represents better than almost anyone else.

In no other composer's works is the fusion of emotion, dramatic rhythm and technical challenge as complete. Yet for me the most important reason why he remains modern and popular is because he wanted to reach his audience. He did not want to impress his listeners; he did not try to gain the acceptance and praise of musicologists or critics. His goal was always to serve the drama, to give music to the feelings of his characters and above all, to move us.

In these aims he was not afraid to use popular tunes, straightforward or even easy rhythms and spectacular effects. But he combined them with genius orchestration, gorgeous melodies, and rich and innovative harmonic constructions.

Other composers, especially later during the late 19th- and early 20th-century verismo period, gave emotions a rather one-dimensional musical direction. Verdi's characters, however, are always multifaceted and often ambiguous. He was constantly looking to create a depth of personality . To one librettist who was failing to grasp this complexity, he wrote: "In the subjects proposed by you … I do not find all the variety that my crazy brain desires." Verdi did not want to portray black-and-white characters. And so we can despise Rigoletto in the first act and cry for him at the end of the opera. How many listeners empathise with King Philip II in Don Carlo until he sings his big monologue "Ella giammai m'amo" and we finally see into the soul of this terrible, conflicted father? We are enchanted by Alfredo's love for Violetta in the first act of La Traviata and just as repulsed by his selfish actions in the third act.



Rolando Villazón and Anna Netrebko in La Traviata ... click here to view

In his compositions, Verdi goes from one intense emotional moment to the next and his genius is such that our brains and hearts automatically connect the dots to tell the story with him. Although we see the exterior narratives develop over the course of an opera, what he tells us through his music is really the inner journey of his characters.

Before Verdi, composers often wrote for the sole purpose of allowing a performer to showcase their talent: spectacular coloraturas, impressive high notes etc. In Verdi, every such resource of bel canto singing has a definite dramatic purpose. Everything the orchestra plays, and the singers sing, is an expression of either the souls of the characters, or of the forces of nature that surround them.

He also refused to follow any school or dogma and by doing so created his own style: "When I write something irregular, if it is because the strict rule does not give me what I want, it is because I do not even believe to be good all the rules that we have until now." This does not mean Verdi did not learn anything from his predecessors. "Go back to the old ones – that will be progress!", he wrote to his friend, the violinist Giovanni Ricordi.

Verdi often spoke about inspiration ("l'inspirazione") as the driving force behind his compositions and their interpretations, which I believe we should translate as "instinct". He asked singers, for example, that they study the music intensely, that they exercise their throats in order to achieve a strong and flexible instrument; he demanded perfect diction and that they forget their teachers and trust instead in inspiration/instinct in order to achieve the levels of individuality required for the characters in the drama. He then demanded that his instructions be followed unconditionally: "I want only one creator, and I demand that what is written is followed."

As he wrote to his friend Count Opprandino Arrivabene: "There will be one day when we will stop talking about melody and harmony and schools and [music of the] past and [of the] future ... Then maybe will begin the reign of Art."

In his letters, Verdi speaks a lot about "Art": "I want Art in any of its manifestations, not the amusement, the artifice, the system that you prefer."

The question remains: what is the place of art in today's uncertain and critical times? It seems to me that for Verdi it meant a complete discipline whose purpose was to reach others through exquisite and true means. I believe that ultimately, he knew he had achieved what he set out to do with his music, and he was teaching others a way of reaching that goal, too, if they dared to go beyond themselves.

In his letters, Verdi speaks a lot about Art: "I want Art in any of its manifestations, not the amusement, the artifice, the system that you prefer." In another he wrote: "... about everything else, be quiet, caro Arrivabene, Art will not die." That, caro Maestro Verdi, is true about your Art: it is more alive and more needed than ever.

• Rolando Villazón sings Verdi arias at the Royal Festival Hall, 15 May 7.30pm. Tickets 020-7960 4200. The Genius Of Verdi, presented by Villazón, is on BBC4 on 10 May