NEW YORK – Alberto Vilar, a 60-year-old Cuban-American who is one of the world's most successful technology investors, is famous for being one of its most generous philanthropists as well. He built his fortune through smart investments, buying into companies such as Microsoft, Oracle, Cisco, Yahoo! and America Online.

He has made several major gifts to New York's Metropolitan Opera House, where the Grand Tier now bears his name and where he serves as managing director and co-chairman of the endowment campaign.

Similarly, after his generous donation to London's Royal Opera House, the main foyer was named after him. New York's Carnegie Hall, Austria's Salzburg Festival, the Baden-Baden Festspielhaus, St. Petersburg's Mariinsky Opera and Ballet and Vienna's Musikvereinare are all deeply indebted to his generous support.

You make huge donations to the arts without receiving any profit. Why do you do it?

I made my fortune investing in innovative and cutting-edge technologies. When I had earned enough, I decided to give part of my money away; in other words, I became a philanthropist. In America, a philanthropist is not someone who simply gives money away at random, but someone who tries to help other people. Philanthropy is not care in itself; it means helping people.

I want to help people in, so to speak, a humanitarian way. What does that mean? I help the arts because they are, in essence, an international phenomenon. I adore Russian ballet and Russian opera and, therefore, I help with the staging of Russian productions in the States. I also help the health-care system – I want people to live longer and to be healthy. I also give money to education, because it is an indirect way of helping people.

That is the purpose of my investments. Usually people invest money in order to make money. But when I'm asked why I'm investing money in Russia and what I want to earn there for myself, I reply: "I'm not investing my money in Russia and I’m not expecting any percentage or income. If my help brings joy and prosperity to people, then I just want to be happy and cheerful."

Yes, I'm aware that my money will help someone in Russia to have work, someone else to travel. I personally don’t derive pleasure from that. Instead I get it from Russian music, art and ballet. Last year in Baden-Baden, the great conductor Valery Gergiyev and I received awards from the European Fund for Culture, he for artistic merit and I for supporting the arts.

You are said to be America's No. 1 expert in Russian opera and ballet. What particularly attracts you to Russian art?

Many things happen in our life accidentally. I first heard Tchaikovsky's music when I was seven. By the age of 18 I was already fairly knowledgeable in Russian music, plus the fact that I had developed a passion for opera. Yes, the language is not easy, but I particularly liked operas performed in Russian.

Then I wound up for a short time in the United States, having arrived there from Cuba, and almost immediately after that I moved to England. You might think it funny, but in London I got to know somebody from your company, Intourist, and he helped me with ticket arrangements, so I was able to visit the Soviet Union several times, and very cheaply.

I went on visiting Russia for 25 years. Then I got married and my wife and I lived together for five years and my father-in-law, by the way, was Russian. He was born and raised in Leningrad. He didn’t speak a word of English, but he and I had the same interest – music. He often said: "Alberto, this is not Leningrad, this is St. Petersburg, a city of great culture." And he turned out to be right – the city's historical name was restored not long before he died.

Then I fell in love with Russian ballet, which I consider to be the best in the world to this day. If somebody says he loves ballet, then it means one thing – he must love Russian ballet.

To what extent do you think modern art depends on the whims of rich people? If a millionaire wants to help a theater but then the millionaire turns out to be too stingy, the actors won’t have enough to live on, much less be able to put on new productions.

The question is not as simple as it may seem. The thing is, the arts have always been very expensive. If you take opera: you won’t recoup production costs, not even with a box-office success. Even New York’s Metropolitan Opera doesn’t manage that, although they have the biggest budget in the world (they spend $200 million per year on operas alone). Their ticket sales only cover 50 percent of their outlay.

Where can they find the remaining 50 percent? How can they earn the money? In Western Europe or in Russia, the government subsidizes the arts. But in Mozart’s time, and later during that of the Russian tsars’, these expenses were borne by aristocratic and rich citizens. Later, their numbers decreased when many had their properties confiscated or nationalized (as was the case in Russia), and of course Europe suffered badly from two devastating wars in the 20th century. Therefore, if we now look at the financing of the arts in the world, then we can see, as it were, two different models.

One: European. The other: American. In America, if you remember, some of the new settlers included the Puritans, and they called for generosity, kindness and a desire to share with friends and relatives. In America, there was never a culture of financing the arts as the Europeans understand it, so that in this sphere, there was no government. In today’s situation, it looks absurd.

What changes would you like to see in funding of the arts?

I would like the U.S. government, which does not finance the arts at all, to return part of my money, which has been spent in taxes; at least as much as I invest in opera. But they’re not doing that. Therefore, in the States, I don’t think there is any real prospect of the system changing.

But in Europe, changes are possible. You know that from the beginning of the new year, many countries in Europe will have a single currency, which will require strict fiscal discipline from everyone. This also means that everywhere government spending on the arts will be cut. Cuts of 4 percent a year are already beginning. Looking for money from private sponsors then becomes all the more necessary. Austria, Germany, Britain and Italy have already "awakened" from the lethargy that came from living off government subsidies, and they are now thinking about how to find and attract private funding.

But even that will take a lot of time. As far as Russia is concerned, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of progress in this direction at all. In Russia’s case, one shouldn’t confuse the "corporate sponsor" with the "private donor." The Mariinsky Theater, for example, receives financial support from the Baltika Brewery, and as a sponsor, it’s definitely doing a great thing.

But they all receive substantial tax reductions on their donations to charity from the government. But I, as an individual, don’t get any privileges, although my investments in the arts are no less than theirs. Therefore, to resolve the problem in Russia, it’s necessary as a start for both the major corporations and rich individuals to sit down at a table together and work out some sort of mutually beneficial strategy.

I had a meeting with President Vladimir Putin to discuss a huge project in Petersburg. I offered to personally sponsor it and we hope that we will succeed in getting other individuals to finance the project.

(The second part of interview will appear in next week’s LifeStyle.)