This photo captures me in the midst of rehearsal with the Racine Symphony Orchestra, in preparation for tomorrow night’s Lakeside Pops concert, for which I am baritone soloist. Boy, it feels good to type those words. I have not done any official solo singing with the RSO for almost three years, by far the longest such “dry spell” I’ve had in over twenty years of association with them. (The only singing I’ve done recently is to lead a couple of audience sing-alongs, which is fun but not at all the same thing.) The hiatus has happened mostly because the new director of the pops, Richard Carsey, is from Milwaukee’s Skylight Opera and has all kinds of fine singers with whom he loves to work- and who love to work with him – and with only three concerts per summer, sheer mathematics meant that I was not going to be in the spotlight quite as often as I’d been accustomed. I wasn’t mad about it – there was no reason to be – but I was certainly sad about it and growing impatient for the day when I would have a chance to once again sing with this orchestra that means so much to me. And when I realized that I would be out of town for two of this summer’s three concerts (because of the NATS convention in Nashville and then the Drummer wedding in Baraboo) I figured that it was highly unlikely that this would be the summer for me to be asked back into the spotlight. But lo and behold the invitation came for me to join soprano Rebecca Spice on the third and final concert of the summer- the only one for which I was available – – – and I said an enthusiastic YES before the last syllable of the invitation had died away! And what makes it even more of a delight is that I was able to contribute ideas on what I should sing – and by the time the dust had settled, I was slated to sing a couple of pieces you may have heard of called “Old Man River” and “Some Enchanted Evening.” And in between those two barn burners, both of which I have sung before with the RSO, I will get to perform for the very first time “Singin’ in the Rain,” which is every bit the masterpiece that the other two are. And with Becky Speice I will have the great pleasure of singing “Anything You Can Do,” “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off,” and “Till there was You.” Honestly, I find myself feeling like I should be writing a check to the RSO for this concert rather than getting a check from them. And if I didn’t have to rent a white tux for the concert, I might actually follow through on the impulse. That’s how much fun this has been thus far.
The only sad shadow really is that just as tonight’s dress rehearsal was beginning, concertmaster Paul Lundeen stood up to announce to the orchestra that his wife has just been offered a dream job in Detroit and that he is soon moving away – and sadly has to step down as the RSO’s concertmaster after eight distinguished years in that first chair. Paul is that rare concertmaster- a truly superb musician who is also an easy-going, friendly guy. . . and he has been one of the central reasons why the RSO has achieved the musical success that it has in recent years. And when I look back at over two decades of Lakeside Pops, I have no more cherished memory than of the night when Paul played the main theme from the film “Schindler’s List.” I wish it had been known sooner that this was going to be his final concert with the RSO, because it would have been SO neat to include an encore performance of that poignant piece in this program. (The theme of tomorrow night’s concert is Music from Stage and Screen, so it would have fit perfectly.) Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
Still, even with that regrettable farewell stirred into the mix, I am so thrilled to be part of this concert and so happy to be soloing again. It’s not that I don’t have plenty of opportunity to sing before audiences . . . I’ve had way more than my fair share of applause over the years. . . but there is a very special pleasure in singing with a symphony orchestra, and because it’s a rare pleasure as well, it means the world to me to be doing this.
And I am appreciating this opportunity for an entirely unrelated reason. At today’s music faculty meeting, my colleagues and I were really stunned and saddened when one of us announced at the end of the meeting that they are suffering from a strange and debilitating throat ailment that makes it impossible for them to sing. (Since the middle of July.) They’ve been to a throat specialist and this is most definitely some sort of nerve injury – not just laryngitis – and the prognosis for recoveryt is quite uncertain. I was chilled to the bone as I heard those words, trying to imagine what it would feel like to suffer that kind of loss as well as the uncertainty of whether or not one would ever be able to sing again. I know someone else – a Carthage alum who is a highly regarded music teacher in Kenosha – who is in a similar situation due to a complication after throat surgery. Nothing galvanizes one’s appreciation for the gift of singing than hearing that someone else’s voice has been silenced. I wish both of these friends well in their recovery – – – and in my heart I will be singing tomorrow night for THREE instead of one.