It’s roughly the halfway point for the national convention of NATS- the National Association of Teachers of Singing, a grand gathering of voice teachers and students to celebrate what we do and to learn how to do it still better. These conventions occur every other summer, and I have had the pleasure of attending all of them since 2004 …. in New Orleans, Minneapolis, Orlando, Nashville, Salt Lake City, and Boston. Most of these conventions have taken me to splendid and fascinating cities for the very first time (New Orleans, Nashville, Salt lake City) or allowed me to return to places I hadn’t seen in awhile (like Boston.) In every instance, it has been a lovely excuse to get away …. something I tend not to do if left to my own devices …. and find some much-needed refreshment. But this year the convention is in nearby Chicago, a spectacular city in every way but a place of well-worn familiarity for me, a less than sizzling choice (again, for me) when it comes to adventure (although it was certainly sizzling on the first day in terms of temperature and humidity.) And because it’s so close, I just couldn’t justify the expense of staying over in the hotel where the convention is taking place- the Magnificent Mile Marriott – so I have been taking the train back and forth each day. So I have been sleeping in my own bed and still letting out the dog each morning- so this has not been the same sort of getaway as other NATS conventions have been. I’ve remain quiet anchored to home throughout.
And yet …. I love it! I love being in place I know so well, where I don’t need to hover over a map with furrowed brow, trying to figure out where the heck to go or what the best options are for eating out. I love that our host for the convention, Northwestern University’s Karen Brunssen, is someone I know well as a fellow Luther College grad (we both studied with David Greedy and sang under Weston Noble) with whom I’ve had lovely interactions over the years. The first time she stepped to the podium to welcome this amazing throng to Chicago, I felt like that word of welcome was coming from a friend.
And ironically, I love how I don’t feel for one moment like I’m on vacation – but instead like this is very much about the business at hand. Which is not to say that this hasn’t been tremendously fun … but the fun is just a byproduct of what has brought 1300 of us here to Chicago.
As I reflect on what has transpired thus far, I am especially mindful of the importance of connection when it comes to singing – whether as a student, a teacher, or a grateful audience member. And what is so exciting about an experience like this is that most of us in attendance are all of the above. Most of us are voice teachers …. but we’re hear to learn …. and along the way we get to take in some beautiful and inspiring performances. And although the vast majority of us are complete strangers to one another, our mutual love of singing and song somehow makes us friends – and is in and of itself a powerful reminder of how singing draws people together, often in powerful and all-but-permanent fashion.
I was thrilled beyond belief to reconnect here at NATS with someone I had not spoken to nor laid eyes upon in thirty years. Richard Boldrey was one of pianist-coaches for the Lyric Opera Center for American Artists, of which I was a proud member back in 1985-86. Part of what that rich experience entailed was working one-on-one with Lyric Opera’s first-class coaches …. and although I learned plenty from Donna Brunsman, Phil Morehead, and Anthony Pappano (who is now the principal conductor of the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden! I coached the big aria from Britten’s Billy Budd with him!) the coach with whom I forged the most powerful emotional connection was Richard. You have to understand that I walked into the Opera Center as an incredibly green 25-year-old, the youngest singer in the Center and by far the most inexperienced. And although my fellow singers were nice (some nicer than others) I felt from the first like I was there on some kind of clerical error; it was hard to fathom that I belonged in the company of these talented and assured young professionals, selected only after an arduous gauntlet of auditions involving several hundred singers from across the country. I didn’t felt like I belonged there- and in some ways I probably didn’t…. especially when I compared myself to the other men in the Center – Mark Doss, Paul Kreider, Paul Hartfield, Donald Kaasch, and Stefan Skafarowsky. (The last two went on to sing at the Met.) Next to these guys, I felt like a bumbling amateur. But Richard Boldrey, more than anyone else associated with the Lyric. seemed to understand who I was and saw potential beneath my somewhat hesitant, awkward persona. He really liked my voice- but beyond that, he seemed like he really liked and appreciated me. Of course, I appreciated him at the time – but I think only now do I realize what a gigantic role he played in bolstering my confidence in that intensely challenging scenario. And as I met him after all these years and thanked him, it underscored how important it is for me to see the hidden potential in my more awkward students and do whatever I can to nurture their gifts and help them see what they have to give to the world.
It was also delightful to re-connect early on with one the finest composers of vocal music in the world ….. Lori Laitman. I know her because I have reviewed a number of different recordings of her music for my Listener’s Gallery column in The Journal of Singing. It was shortly after the first of those reviews was published that she reached out both to thank me and to compliment me on the quality of my criticism. That really warmed my heart, and the more I have learned about Lori Laitman, the more I have come to appreciate who she is both as a composer and human being – such a valuable citizen in our musical community. I hasten to add that I am not a particularly devoted nor astute listener to modern music, but Lori Laitman’s music never fails to speak to me….. and the most recent songs I heard literally moved me to tears. (I happened to be riding on an Amtrak train at the time.) What a potent reminder this was of music’s unsurpassed capacity to touch us in the deepest recesses of our souls.
It was on the first day of the convention that I was able to meet in person two celebrities I was able to interview for my Morning Show radio program – over the phone. Bill Hayes and Susan Seaforth Hayes are very well known for their work on the soap opera “Days of our Lives” – but was brought them to this NATS convention is that Bill Hayes was also a tremendously capable and successful professional singer. His resume included a long and glorious stint on Sid Caesar’s “Your Show of Shows,” the leading role in the original Broadway cast of Rogers and Hammerstein’s Me and Juliet, and a #1 song on the Billboard charts, “Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier.” To honor Bill Hayes and his tremendous accomplishments as a singer, a fund has been created by the NATS Foundation to assist outstanding young singers in musical theater- and he and his wife came to the convention for the official “unveiling” of the fund. They proved to be as nice in person as they had been over the phone- and a video montage that played over the screens featured examples of Bill Hayes’s singing was a powerful reminder of just how splendid a singer he was. (And although he is in his early 90’s, Bill Hayes is still singing!)
As fun as it has been to encounter luminaries … and to re-connect with old friends …. I am just as grateful for the chance to meet new friends at these kind of gatherings. At the opening ceremony, I said hello to the man sitting closest to me, and he turned out to be a retired choral director who now lives and teaches in Paris, France! This was his very first visit to a NATS convention, so I was so happy to connect with him and fill him in on what he could look forward to. I’ve also been delighted to meet a couple of different people with ties to the Chicago Lyric Opera. One was a baritone who was a member of the Opera Center in the early 90’s …. and the other is a long-time bass with the Lyric Opera Chorus. Every time something like that happens, it reminds me of the paramount importance of turning to the stranger next to you, extending your hand, and saying “My name is . . . ” That’s all it takes to turn a stranger into a friend.
<to be continued>