Twenty-Three Seasons
With the arrival of fall, I am thinking of New York City Opera, where I sang for twenty-three seasons.
We’d be deep into performances right now; walking to the theatre in the dusk; passing theatre-goers dressed to the nines; putting on makeup at half-hour; laughing and carrying on in the dressing room.
It started with an audition in 1988 at the suggestion of a friend from Westminster Choir College. She was working for the opera’s guild, had heard the company was having auditions, and told me to call them. So I did.
The office said, sure, we’re having auditions.
Today is the last day.
I was in NJ and threw on a suit, grabbed my Nozze di Figaro score, drove to the train, got to the City, warmed up in a bathroom and sang for Joe Colaneri, Donald Hazzard—and a few days later, Beverly Sills.
Bam, Bam, Bam.
I was lucky.
All that stuff about having five to eight arias prepared?
I had two and only sang one.