Tales Of A Tenacious Tenor by Robert P. Mitchell

Author:Robert P. Mitchell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ASJ Publishing
Published: 2014-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

A Trip to Germany

Fall, 1971

As persistently as I tried to develop my breath power, it always came up short for singing. While still a student at Mannes, Joan and I saw the great tenor, Franco Corelli, at the Met in Act 1 of Puccini’s Turandot, sing her name, “Tur-an-DO-O-O-O-” on a high-A. After hitting the note, while still holding it, he struck the upstage gong three times with a large mallet, set it down, then walked downstage the twenty or so feet to the prompter’s box, put his foot up on it, and held the note a bit longer. It was thrilling and unbelievable if you’d told me about it. But I heard it—witnessed it—myself.

After the thrill wore off, that feat—or stunt—really discouraged me. I couldn’t hold a note for a tenth that long. How could I come close to that?

First of all, I could follow Marlena’s advice and find a good teacher, one who could do something about my tight-chest breath. Marlena had recommended Madama Olga Ryss, the teacher of Jennie Tourel, a fabled international mezzo-soprano whom Mme Ryss had met years ago in South Africa. After they both came to New York sometime in the fifties, Mme Ryss took Tourel under her wing and helped her vocally to revitalize her waning career. Surely Mme Ryss could help us.

She took us under her tutelage in her small apartment which doubled as her studio on West Seventy-Eighth Street just behind the American Museum of Natural History. Her rates were surprisingly reasonable, so we decided to work with her, rather than other teachers we were considering.

After hearing me sing, she declared, “You’re not ready! It takes years to build a voice…” and told us all about how long it took her students to be ready to sing in German opera houses, and of course, we had to hear about her baritone who was singing at the Met.

So I hunkered down for the long haul. What could I do? I was reduced to vocal scales and exercises at age thirty-two. When I asked her about possible roles I should prepare, she flew into a rage.

“Roles you vant? Go buy bread!”

Her sarcasm had a certain unpleasant charm, but I decided to suck it up. Even after several years with her, when I told her Tony Amato offered me Alfredo in La Traviata and that I had already sung the role at Mannes, she shouted, “Tuu dra-MAH-tik for you!” a refrain that dogged me throughout my career. “You push your voice too much. You vill ruin it singing roles like dat. You must learn to float zee sound.”

All right—back to the dock when most singers my age were halfway around the world.

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