One week ago tonight,  I was sitting in Artemus W. Ham Concert Hall on the campus of the University of Las Vegas, nearly jumping out of my skin in eager anticipation of the joint recital by soprano Christine Brewer, mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe, two of the world’s greatest singers,  and the incomparable Craig Terry at the piano.

When I first heard two years ago that the 2018 NATS conference was going to be in Las Vegas,  I pretty much decided that I would skip it. I’ve always thought of Las Vegas as one big orgy of excess and I couldn’t imagine feeling comfortable there, let alone enjoy my time there.   It would be the first NATS national conference I would miss since I began attending them back in 2004, but my mind was pretty much made up.

But sometime later, I saw that the special guests-of-honor were going to be Christine Brewer and Stephanie Blythe, two of my very favorite singers – and I knew that I had to be there.   It didn’t matter where the conference would be …  Kabul, Afghanistan … Nome, Alaska …. Las Vegas, Nevada.  There was no way I was going to miss out on the opportunity to encounter these superb singers at our conference not only in recital, but also in a master class and a public Q & A. As it turns out,  there were also pinch-me moments such as Saturday morning when I realized that I was eating breakfast fifteen feet away from Stephanie Blythe – or Saturday afternoon when I bumped into Christine Brewer in the hotel hallway and managed to stammer out a few words about how much I love her singing.  Each of these encounters only underscored how warm-hearted and authentic these two amazing women are … and it made me even more excited for the recital yet to come.

For the sake of anyone not acquainted with these two singers:  Christine Brewer is a soprano with the kind of heroic voice that can conquer the music of Wagner and Strauss.  One of the most astute critics I know, who writes for The Journal of Singing, said: “The voice of Christine Brewer is a force of nature that defies easy characterization or comparison. In many respects, she is reminiscent of Kirsten Flagstad, Helen Traubel and Eileen Farrell, but the beauty of her sound is uniquely her own. But there is more to her greatness than gorgeous sounds. Brewer is a powerful communicator and an elegant musician, and this is what gives her singing its real meaning.”  I have most of her recordings (all of which I love) and have also been blessed to see her at the Lyric Opera of Chicago as the Dyer’s Wife in Strauss’s Die Frau ohne Schatten – and as the Mother Superior in The Sound of Music.  It’s also worth noting that she was a latecomer to the concert and opera stage because she taught school for many years and devoted herself to her family.  Maybe that’s why her voice is so remarkably fresh at the age of 62.  

Stephanie Blythe’s career may have unfolded in more conventional fashion, but there is nothing conventional about what she has accomplished.  Her bottomless, opulent sound is utterly unique among singers.  From a review in The Journal of Singing by that same astute critic*: “No other singer before the public today can boast of a more sterling critical reputation than Stephanie Blythe. She is judged beyond reproach in every facet of what she does: beauty and distinctiveness of sound, solidity of technique, flawlessness of musicality and vividness of expression. She is perhaps the most versatile singer of her generation, excelling in everything from opera seria to Wagner to the intricate complexities of modern scores.”  I’ve seen her at the Lyric, but have most enjoyed her in a succession of HD simulcasts from the Met as Fricka in Wagner’s Ring Cycle, the title role in Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice, Dame Quickly in Verdi’s Falstaff, and most memorably in the three mezzo roles from Puccini’s Il Trittico.   And I hope you caught her on PBS in the Carnegie Hall Carousel – and in her Lincoln Center tribute to Kate Smith.  This amazing singer can do it all.  She even plays the ukulele – but that’s another story!

*By the way, that astute critic is me.

It was also a tremendous pleasure to have several different encounters during the conference with their pianist, Craig Terry, who has played for a plethora of famous singers and worked for both the Metropolitan Opera and Lyric Opera of Chicago.   He did two different master classes of his own that were quite memorable and impressive,  but what I will truly never forget is the thrill of actually making music with him.   It happened Friday night in something called NATS Late Night – which is basically an open mic opportunity.  In this case, it took place in the famous Havana Room of the Tropicana, and anybody at the conference was welcome to show up and sing something from the Great American Songbook with Craig Terry himself at the piano!  Imagine that!

 

I was both thrilled and terrified at the prospect of doing this, so I watched for almost an hour while an impressive array of singers took the stage.  There was a bass-baritone with one of the biggest voices I have ever heard in my life who sang a thundering performance of “I got plenty of nuttin'” – and a lovely soprano who sang “Summertime” in honor of her voice teacher, Todd Duncan … who was the original Porgy!  (Talk about an incredible brush with history.)  At the other end of the age spectrum was a soon-to-be-sophomore at Northwestern University named Nicholas (a former student of my Carthage colleague Peg Cleveland- and currently studying with fellow Luther alum Karen Brunssen) who sang a beautiful and touching performance of “If ever I would leave you.”   And in one of my favorite moments of the night, the executive director of NATS,  Allen Henderson,  even got into the act with a wonderful performance of “You gotta accentuate the positive.”

 

Almost everyone who sang during those two hours was quite accomplished,  singing songs that they obviously knew extremely well – but there were also a couple of singers who struggled in one way or another.  It was in those moments that Craig Terry’s patience and kindness was most amply demonstrated- and he had this magical way of making even these somewhat rough performances into something special and memorable.  By the way,  I did eventually screw up the courage to get up there to croak out “Some Enchanted Evening” and “S’Wonderful” and I’m really glad I did.  What a rare treat to make music with such a world renowned artist.

But when it comes to rare treats, nothing could compare with Sunday night’s recital.  I knew it was going to be amazing,  but I also worried that it might be a concert of nothing but “Bosom Buddies” and the like.   (That would have great,  but I would have been sad not to be able to hear these ladies uncork the full splendor of their voices.)  But then I took the printed program in hand and saw Wagner’s “Dich teure Halle” right at the top, followed by Bizet, Mendelssohn, and Gilbert & Sullivan.   This was going to be a program with plenty of substance as well as plenty of fun.

And these women delivered the goods!  Christine Brewer is in her early 60’s and I’m pretty sure her days of singing full Wagnerian roles are a thing of the past, but her powerhouse performance of the Tannhäuser aria was nothing short of magnificent.  (I’m not sure there’s another soprano in the world who can sing this aria as impressively as she did that night.)  Stephanie Blythe followed with a sultry, impassioned Habañera from Bizet’s Carmen that bypassed tired shtick in favor of first-rate singing and impeccable French.  From there, they offered up two arias from Mendelssohn’s Elijah (thrillingly sung) that were followed by the evening’s first duet,  the dusty old sacred favorite “Whispering Hope.”  This piece is hardly ever sung these days, and it’s easy to dismiss it as nothing but sentimental schmaltz – but I’m not sure I have ever heard two voices sound so gorgeous together.  Rounding out the first half was some terrific fun with Gilbert & Sullivan (including a duet where Stephanie Blythe sang tenor- and quite impressively, too!) and a marvelous sequence from Handel’s Semele that clearly demonstrated that even immense voices, if properly trained, can sing the music of Handel with beauty and grace.

The second half was considerably lighter but it included the most touching and exquisite moments of the night.  For Christine Brewer, it was the touching song “Mira” from the musical Carnival in which the character of Lili, a young girl who has run away in search of fame and fortune,  recalls the tiny town of Mira where she was born and raised, where everybody knows your name.  The soprano told us that she came from a similar sort of place,  and maybe that’s why she was able to sing this song with such breathtaking simplicity and sincerity;  I cried buckets and so did a lot of other people all around me.   Stephanie Blythe achieved similar magic in “The White Cliffs of Dover” – especially she drew down her huge voice into a tiny silken thread of sound that nevertheless penetrated perfectly to the back of the hall.  What incredible technique!  And what marvelous heart!    And sharing the stage and making all of this possible was Craig Terry at the piano – an indispensable partner in the evening’s excitement, playing everything from Wagner to Harold Arlen/Johnny Mercer with everything you could want in a pianist: dazzling virtuosity, perfect sensitivity, and an unerring sense of style.  One of the most glorious highlights of the night was when the singers turned the spotlight over to him for a performance of Zez Confrey’s “Dizzy Fingers” that left the audience completely thunderstruck.

You get the idea.  This was one of those rare recitals where every moment was magnificent. But there was more to this performance than its sheer perfection.  (I’ve been to a small handful of other recitals of comparable excellence- including a couple of recitals at past NATS conferences.)  What set this apart from any other recital I have ever attended was the sense of heart at the center of it. First and foremost was the unmistakable love between these three musicians and the sort of rare rapport that makes magical things possible.  There was also a sense of relaxed fun and even moments of hilarity that enhanced our enjoyment while never getting in the way of the excellence.   And maybe most of all,  these three musicians performed as though there was no other place on earth they would rather be.  And I am certain that all of us in the audience felt the same way- as though we were the luckiest people on earth to be in that hall, experiencing this kind of once-in-a-lifetime performance.

One last thought: I couldn’t help but think about the city where this recital took place, where entertainment is almost always about glitz and glamor.  This recital involved two singers and one pianist – with no set, no props, no lighting effects.  All we had was the music and three marvelous musicians at the height of their powers, singing for a deeply appreciative audience.  That’s all we needed.  That’s all we wanted.  It doesn’t get better than that.