My Journey…so far…

…Well, it was last updated 7 years ago

“Follow me and I’ll take you to where you can warm up.” I had no idea, as I walked through that door, that there would be a football field’s worth of space. It was summer so the sets were struck, the curtains were flown up, and the famous chandelier rested gently, yet majestically, in the audience, awaiting her annual bath. There was no fancy concert grand piano, just an old rehearsal upright placed just stage left of center only a few feet from where I was told the sweet spot lay. “It’s a big space, so find the sweet spot”, my dear friend had advised. I found the spot and glued myself to it. After about 20 minutes of being in awe of my surroundings, as I warmed up taking great care not to disturb the historic resonance of the space, but finding my own path within it, the other players in the game began to arrive. First that wonderful adviser and friend, who, understanding the gravity of the situation and my awareness of such, calmly remarked, “they know you can sing, or you wouldn’t be here; they just want to make sure you can handle the pressure.” I saw those as fighting words – and battled every naysayer that had reared its vicious head. Then entering the arena, my agents who warned me that I might not hear myself due to the acoustics, so just sing, and finally the artistic gatekeepers of Olympus joined the games, filing into the orchestra seating at the left hand of her majesty, the chandelier, still awaiting her bath. She commanded such presence sitting there, glowing with the love and passion of decades of operatic tones. It was time…I began with my loud-fast-and-high. Done. They chatted amongst themselves. “For the next piece, please move back…a little further…keep going…ok that’s good…”. But the sweet spot! -now at least 30 feet away (might as well have been miles). And my next piece was supposed to be my languid virtuosic-ly soft selection. Dare I attempt such a feat, worlds away from that sweet spot…Game on! As the intro began, I felt myself fall away and the distraught Caesar emerge from the Nile banks, feeling the winds of change comfort him as they blow across his face. After Caesar had his moment, Alan began to awake; “Thank you” said a gatekeeper. My job was done for now, I wait. The next morning, I answered my agent’s call. “The Met wants you.”

Now living in Manhattan and working on the international life stage, my story began as a shy latchkey kid in a small town in Texas. My mother knew she had to do something to help me come out of my shell so she enrolled me in the after-school choir at the age of 7. Choir was a staple activity throughout my pre-college years. Even the afterschool shows kept me interested, like when I starred as Wilber in Charlotte’s Web. Genius in pink-died long underwear! It wasn’t until my gregarious and talented nephew (who’s 2 months older than I) came to live with us at the age of 16 and we attended high school together, that this shy young man began to come out of his shell. The breaking point was Jay’s induction into the high school thespian society. At the awards banquet and induction ceremony I leaned over to my mother and said, “I’ll be up there next year,” to which she gave a puzzled are-you-sure look. Once I set my mind to something, I sure as hell see it through. I was inducted the following year with honors. The best Snout the Tinker/Wall you’ve ever seen! To this day, Shakespeare has a Texan accent. The once incredibly shy boy began to do everything he could to be noticed, without a care in the world. The new rebel wore mismatched socks and rolled up his trousers so everybody could see. Rebel! When it came time to apply to colleges, my course of study was to be zoology or microbiology. I was such a fan! I chose a nice private school that was very selective and actually got accepted. Unfortunately, once my parents and I realized that the school was simply too expensive for me to go, it was too late to follow that path to another school. At that point, I called my voice teacher and life coach at the time Catherine Wafford. That amazing and fiery woman really taught me so much. She made a call and got me an audition with Sam Houston State University for the Department of Music and said study there for a year until you figure out where you want to go. As a freshman at Sam, I auditioned for the Opera Workshop. I was thrilled to be cast as Papageno in the Magic Flute. Opening night came, my mother was in the audience, and the crowed went crazy. I was hooked.

I knew that performing was my “new” path. It had been with me all along, I just never realized how much a part of my being it was. It is also at that point that I remember speaking with my voice teacher at the college, Barbara Corbin, another amazing woman, and telling her that I needed to do a lot of performing so that I could teach it some day and know what I was talking about. I was 19 at the time. My melded paths of performing and teaching were born. Upon graduating I knew that Germany and its opera houses were to be my next frontier. It was time to save money and get over. I worked in the chorus of Houston Grand Opera, was the hired tenor soloist at the Cathedral (yes I had switched to tenor in college shortly after Papgeno), was the classical manager at Borders Books and Music and taught at 4 high schools (48 half hour voice lessons a week). After a year and a half of working this schedule, it was time for my 2-week trip to audition for German agents and opera houses. I used the high school district’s spring break as my time frame. Little did I know at the time that I wouldn’t return for 11 months and that was just for 1 week to collect my things. I was singing in Europe y’all!! I had some freelance stuff in Austria then headed to the Brandenburg State Theater where I was under double contract as tenor soloist and chorister. An amazing and life changing experience; performing was not just a dream, it was my JOB! I knew that Cottbus wasn’t where I was meant to end up so I began to look around. At one point during the season I was given the task of preparing the roles of the Sailor and the Spirit in Dido and Aeneas. What I didn’t realize at the time of learning the notes was that the Spirit was up the octave. Ha! That first rehearsal was fun. I loved singing up there. When it came to the performances, all I heard about was how amazing my countertenor was, the tenor was lost in the ether. Was there a new path emerging? I enlisted the help of my dear friend Andrea Huber, who only recently had performed with the demigod of countertenor, Michael Chance, whom I’d admired for years. All the questions I had for Andrea were clearly not meant for mortal ears. She set up a phone date with Olympus and I phoned Michael on a Saturday morning at 9am. After a few minutes on the phone, he bade me sing. I didn’t know any countertenor repertoire, I said. “Just sing some scales he retorted.” Ok. “Go higher…higher…higher…” (my poor neighbors). “I need to hear that in person, can you meet me in Berlin next Sunday” he summoned. Of course! I called in sick to the opera house for that day’s performance and began a journey that changed my life yet again. The following year was a surreal conglomeration of me singing tenor on the stage, and running down in between scenes to a basement rehearsal hall with the early music conductor and our resident chorus master to learn repertoire and get familiar with this vocal beast. I traveled 3 hours to Dresden every other week to work with a voice teacher who worked with our resident countertenor at the opera house. After being awarded the amazing honor of the Horst and Gretl Will Foundation grant, I was able to decline my contract renewal in Cottbus and pursue a degree in Dresden. A few months before I was to begin my studies I decided to audition for one of the premier vocal ensembles in Dresden as I knew they used countertenors in the ensemble on occasion. I thought this would give me a good place to work on my vocalization and style while I was studying. Alas, to my audition, the conductor responded, “There’s no way I can use you in my ensemble…but I could use you as a soloist”. I’m sure the enormous grin was concealed by the dumbfounded and bewildered contortion of my face. Not only did he engage me for an upcoming concert, I received 3 calls the very next day from other quite well-known groups wanting to engage me similarly. My career was off and running and I hadn’t even begun my studies. The next five years were a whirlwind of travels throughout Europe often taking me on a redeye after one performance to get to the next, all the while jaunting back to Dresden and the College of Music to the concentrated gems of enlightenment passed on to me by the amazing faculty. I was learning about early music from masters in the classroom and on the stage. My colleagues were my teachers and my teachers became my colleagues. I eventually performed with each and every one of them. Almost every performance consisted of completely new repertoire. It was often difficult to stop and take a look around, but when I did, I would realize that, yes, I was walking into a castle, a palace, a centuries-old church or opera house, often singing the music that was originally premiered centuries ago in that very same space. The music, the paintings and the architecture seamlessly melded into an historic atmosphere that brought to life an era that had long passed – a brief moment of reincarnation.

…story will continue…