There is a poignant song by Stephen Sondheim from his Follies which includes these words:
You take one road – you try one door –
there isn’t time for any more.
One’s life consists of either / or.
One has regrets – which one forgets –
And as the years go on, the road you didn’t take
hardly comes to mind. Does it?
The door you didn’t try, where could it have led?
The books I’ll never read couldn’t change a thing.
Could they?
The lives I’ll never lead couldn’t make me sing.
Could they?
You take your road – The decades fly –
The yearnings fade – the longings die –
You learn to bid them all goodbye.
For as thankful as I am for the life I’ve blessed to live, there are these brief moments from time to time when I think about the roads I didn’t choose, beginning with my decision to go to forego Simpson College (despite a full ride music scholarship) in favor of Luther College. The former would have offered me a spectacular training ground as an opera singer, but the latter offered what I knew would be a more well-rounded education, and given the uncertainty I had about my future, the latter seemed to make much more sense. I ended up having a spectacular time at Luther with scarcely any regrets at all, but I sometimes wonder how far or in what direction Simpson might have propelled me. As it is, I graduated from Luther having never sung in an opera and hungry to explore that world further – but ruled out huge opera schools in favor of a smaller yet excellent program at the University of Nebraska, where I knew I would get good training and also get on the stage in major roles much more quickly than I would have at a gigantic school like Indiana University. It was a wise, well-reasoned choice, but every so often I wonder what might have happened had I been brave enough to try for one of those Big Ponds where I would have been a small fish, at least at the start. Amazingly, life still afforded me a splendid opportunity to be part of the Lyric Opera center for American Artists, but when that finished up rather unceremoniously for me and a public radio job in Kenosha, WI opened up, I did not hesitate to leave Chicago along with any serious aspirations of pursuing opera any further. Every so often I wonder what might have happened if I had stayed in Chicago and tried to grind out some sort of life as a professional singer. I can scarcely imagine that scenario because that would presumably mean the surrendering of everything wonderful that has happened to me in the last quarter century, and I wouldn’t want to give up any of it. Not Kathy, not Carthage, not WGTD, not Holy Communion, not the Racine Theater Guild, not the Kenosha Pops Band and local symphonies, and on and on.
And yet, Sondheim’s marvelous lyrics raise intriguing and ultimately unanswerable questions about the untaken roads in our lives, and every so often I wonder what might have happened if I stayed on the Opera Road a bit longer. Would it have led to success and even fame? Or frustration and ultimate surrender? I can’t possibly know.
Or do I?
Yesterday I played for the auditions of four outstanding young opera singers, who were singing for William Florescu, the head of the Milwaukee Florentine Opera. My connection to them was through their agent, the sister of a good friend of mine from Holy Communion. Evidently, the auditions needed to happen someplace other than the Florentine, and they needed to secure someone to be the pianist. That someone turned out to be me. We met at the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music yesterday morning at 9, and we had an hour to do some practicing before the auditions themselves began at 10. And with each of the singers coming in with at least 5 arias ready to sing, there wasn’t time to rehearse anything thoroughly and some things we never even started or set tempi. And as luck would have it, I ended up playing three arias in the auditions which we hadn’t discussed or touched upon. But all went well. These were very fine musicians and Mr. Florescu did a nice job of making it as comfortable and positive a situation as possible. And away we went, making beautiful music together.
And although 99% of my mind was fully occupied with playing these challenging accompaniments as well as possible, of following these singers as carefully as I could, and just generally doing my part to help make these auditions as successful as they could possibly be, the other 1% sliver of my mind was feeling envy and wishing that there would be a way to take the last 30 seconds of the hour and cut loose with the thundering final measures of “Avant de quitter ces lieux” – although offering up my relatively dilapidated voice after these four squarely in the vocal prime of their lives would have been pretty foolish. But still, I felt envious of the possibilities stretching before these four singers.
It was not until later that the reality of these young singers’ lives began to sink in. In a nutshell, there are too many wonderful singers and not enough places for them to sing. The Florentine is a fine company but a small company which typically presents only three full-length operas each season. Mr. Florescu will hear hundreds of aspiring singers hoping to earn a place in one of those casts, and I’m sure one of the worst parts of his job is having to bypass all kinds of fully deserving young singers. So young aspiring singers like these four have to work incredibly hard at considerable expense to prepare themselves for a life that may not ever come to pass. And even if they find their way into one operatic arena, they have to hope they will be asked back even as they seek out other opportunities in other arenas in order to build a workable, sustainable career. . . and maybe, just maybe, score that exciting breakthrough into the big time that all young singers dream about.
The more I thought about these four young singers, the more I realized that they are on a road that I would not want to travel on for anything. Their lives essentially consist of knocking on doors, one after another, time and time again, and essentially saying “Let me sing for you! Let me be in one of your next operas!” Needing to be wanted, in a sense. Desperate to be wanted, in fact. And all the while, they know that on those same relatively few doors are hundreds or even thousands of other young singers also knocking just as fervently. Or picture a roomful of students, only one of whom can lead the pledge of allegiance. A sea of hands go up amidst a chorus of “Pick Me! Pick Me!” And you do it gladly when you want something SO much.
No thank you. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am not and never was wired for that and could never have persevered through the frustration that marks every aspiring singer’s journey. I am so thankful that I am already Wanted – maybe not by the Met, or by any other opera company for that matter, but wanted all the same… busier than I need to be …. challenged and stimulated and fulfilled ….. and knowing that I am making good use of the gifts I have been given and am incredibly happy as I do so. That’s where the road I chose has taken me and I honestly don’t want to be anywhere else. And yesterday’s auditions, for as fun as they were, gave me the most emphatic confirmation of it that I’ve ever received.
I love my road…. the road I’ve taken.
It’s a beautiful road and I love where It’s taken me.
Pictured above: This is the beautiful recital hall at the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music where the auditions took place. It’s a gorgeous space for music, and the grand piano is probably the most beautiful piano I’ve ever played in my life. And if you squint, you can see general manager William Florescu sitting across the aisle from the agent of these fine singers.