The line of people extended down the stairs from the Met Gift shop, through the smaller corridor leading out into the big hallway, all the way down to the art gallery.
“This is going to take forever, but I don’t care,” declared a tall, blond baritone, clutching a copy of Renée Fleming’s debut book The Inner Voice. I looked up and down the line. A general thrill of anticipation crackled among the excited, book-carrying fans; there were singers in front of me, singers behind me, and next to me, an engineer.
“I heard her in Rodelinda. Wow!” he exclaimed. “I just had to buy this book and meet her in person.” Suddenly, silence descended over the crowd, as a crystal clear voice chimed out from the entrance at the end of the hall leading to the Met gift shop. “We’ll try to make this fast, so please be patient. Thank you for being here!” Renée Fleming stood smiling and waving at the crowd. The awed silence was swiftly replaced by appreciative applause. After Ms. Fleming’s appearance, the minutes seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was standing in the Met gift shop, book open, facing the radiant, smiling artist and author, her pen ready to sign my copy.
Words cannot describe the indelible impact Ms. Fleming has had and continues to have on the opera world. She has done more than bring the standard of the American diva to new heights—she has redefined the word “diva” to include “humanity,” “kindness,” “generosity,” and “warmth.” The absolute American star of today, Ms. Fleming continues to surprise and delight her public, revealing more and more facets of her persona. From the international operatic stage to a remarkable writing debut, from being a source of inspiration for composers, fashion designers, horticulturists, writers and master chefs to recording movie soundtracks, from garnering prestigious honors to delivering rousing commencement addresses, Ms. Fleming’s talents, energy and dedication have taken the opera world by storm and will undoubtedly continue to enchant and bring joy to numerous lives for many years to come.
In the spring of 2003, you received an honorary doctorate at Juilliard and delivered an inspiring commencement address in which you encouraged the graduating students to continue being “students” as they go out into the world. Is the idea of being a constant “student” a driving force in your life?
Absolutely. I think the most important characteristic of a student is openness: being open to criticism, to learning, to growing, to other people’s ideas. A student of singing is also a student of life, in a sense. We are always learning and evolving, particularly in music. We make our living re-interpreting the creativity of others, especially in classical music. We may often repeat works, but if our interpretations don’t evolve, it wouldn’t be very interesting for the public. It has definitely been a crucial aspect for me, because without these qualities of being a student, I would have never come this far. I didn’t have a natural voice as a singer.
So you believe there are natural singers?
Yes. I think more great singers than not are born with their voice. Their gifts are tremendous—and not just the vocal gifts and the facility, but their interpretative gifts as well. Bryn Terfel and Cecilia Bartoli are two singers from my own generation who represent that. Already, in their early 20s, they were very mature, well-rounded artists. The rest of us have to really struggle to gain technical facility or range, or to develop interpretation. For me, only a few things came naturally. I think my breath control was natural. But I needed to be able to develop all those other qualities.
On the other hand, someone who has worked as hard as you have knows their own voice inside out, whereas sometimes a natural singer may find it difficult to fix problems, if they appear.
Right. That’s why it’s so important to really know every aspect of your singing. There are many singers who’ve told me they don’t have a clue how they do what they do. The really fortunate ones do it for 30 or 40 years, and they never have to question too much, because they never get into trouble. For them, singing is very intuitive, not an intellectual process.
But when you are trying to understand your mechanism, especially if you are not a “natural,” the process tends to become cerebral. How do you balance that with the instinct?
That’s why instinct is so important, because there’s a part of you that will say: “This is getting too intellectual, and it’s tying me up in knots! I need to find someone who works in a more intuitive way.” So that’s where the individual has to know which direction to go. It’s not easy, because there is another voice in your head: “Well, if I just stick with this long enough, and try to understand it, it will make sense.”
In a sense, that can be the motivator for every singer, that can lead them to find their own path—which is why in my book, I tried to say specifically: “This is not a general ‘how-to‘ for singers. It is only the illustration of my own path.”
If one sentence or one concept makes sense to a young singer and can help them, that’s wonderful. But the book’s intended production is to illustrate my path, and, in a sense, to help singers understand that a career does not happen overnight and it’s not necessarily easy.
Another trap for some singers: They take a teacher’s method as the definitive method, trying to adopt it completely, erasing their own individuality.
For that reason it’s very important not to give up responsibility in singing. It’s not about going into a practice room and trying to relive every sentence and idea from the lesson. Bring your own creativity and imagination to the process, and explore, really explore! Use the mirror, the piano, the floor; use whatever tools you need. Be creative about it, because singing is in a sense so ephemeral.
I always say it’s a miracle that humans learn how to sing. It is not a good idea to abandon yourself entirely into the hands of someone else. If you do that, you are giving that teacher a little too much responsibility. It’s not fair to them, because they are not inside your body and they don’t know exactly how it feels for you. They are guessing, and trying to feed ideas to you to help you.
The connection between teacher and student is very personal, which is why I always recommend that you consult with a number of people until you find the right one. Also, be cautious following the “buzz” about the best teacher of the moment. Sometimes that can work against you, because the best teachers are not necessarily going to have the time and energy to invest, particularly in someone with a lot of problems. You need to find [the teacher] who speaks to you best.
It was obvious from your book that you actually love to practice.
The process has always been fascinating to me, which is why I wanted to write this book and enjoyed writing it. If I had been asked for an autobiography, I would have said ”no,” because my story isn’t particularly interesting, and I wouldn’t enjoy that. But when I was told: “We want a book about your process,” I said: “Ah! That is interesting.” I really liked trying to articulate ideas about music and singing. It wasn’t always easy to find the right words, but it was a fascinating pursuit.
Do you teach or do master classes?
I love teaching and I used to teach a lot. I grew up in a family of teachers, so it is certainly in my genes. Now I don’t teach, because my career is too demanding and I have two young children. I enjoy doing master classes, so if they fit between engagements and I am already away from home, then I am happy to do them—but I wouldn’t stay an extra day for that. I just won’t take time away from my children.
How old are your children?
Nine and 12.
Do they sing?
They have a variety of pursuits. I think that’s appropriate at their ages. They should just be exploring everything.
How do you find the state of music education in America today?
I think that orchestras and opera companies are better about developing their different outreach programs; they’re very focused on it. I also think that children should be exposed to classical music at an early age, when they have no preconceived ideas and are completely open. The conservatories and universities are producing great musicians. The problem, however, is that while we’re producing musicians at a very high rate, we are not producing audience members. The goal to get everyone to appreciate music and be exposed to it is important and worthy to pursue, but we’re not doing enough.
I believe one of the most unfortunate things to happen is that classical music has been slowly disappearing from the media. The beginning of the Met telecasts, with La bohème, had started a real interest in bringing quality art to television. Recently, that has been waning dramatically. Vast amounts of the public who don’t have access to a company or orchestra, or who might be too intimidated to go if they did have access, are now being deprived of the television exposure, too. That saddens me.
How have today’s technological developments and fast pace—the Internet, for example—affected you as an artist?
The Internet might be very useful to us in the future because of its potential for streaming live performances—so we can find an audience that way. As for other technology, I am an avid iTunes and iPod user now. I mean, to be able to go to iTunes and plug in a song makes my research quicker and easier. Of course, not nearly enough music is offered on the service yet, but eventually it will be. To have 10 versions of a song come up is a fantastic tool for me!
The unfortunate part of everything being fast-paced is that our attention spans have been shrinking and shrinking, and there is so much competition for attention. We’re being bombarded by information in very short sound bites. It wasn’t that long ago that people would go to an opera, and in the afternoon, they’d actually take the time to read the libretto. Who would do that now? Nobody has the time!
Ironically, the life span has gotten longer, but people seem to have less time.
Yeah! But I do think that as we live longer, that extra time will be special. I almost look forward to retiring, because I’m hoping I’ll then have another 20 years to go back to things I want to learn about: art history, literature. I imagine myself auditing classes at the local university. That’s when I’ll pick up my education again and pursue other things. It has also been proven that we stay healthier the more we use our minds that way, so that’s also an incentive!
As a singer however, you need time to develop.
Absolutely. It was at least 10 years for me, 10 years before I could just get through a performance. I had so many technical obstacles to overcome.
What was the biggest obstacle for you?
The most important element was that I was a soprano with no top. I had a very unreliable top. When I sang anything above the staff, I’d break out in hives and get very nervous. That was the crucial obstacle! Everything else was icing on the cake.
An amazing strength that shines through in your book is that you face whatever you fear.
That, and resilience, are very important to develop—and I am still using them everyday! The obstacles are still there. No level of achievement protects anyone from the day-to-day disappointments and ups and downs that we all face; it just happens at a different level. My life is no different than anyone else’s in that respect.
It’s tempting to imagine that when you are at the top, life must be easier.
Not true! Whatever challenges you face personally, they stay the same, but they’re just on a different level.
I used to think that, too. I used to imagine that when I “made it,” everything would be easy. I remember the first time I said that to someone, and they told me: “Oh, dear! You are in for a surprise!”
You really have to love this profession.
Yes. It can take a long time. However, if over a period of years, people are still saying “no,” then maybe it’s time to regroup, rethink the goal, and do something else. I know some actors are told that the only mistake they can ever make is to quit. I think that’s actually not correct.
I am not one to suggest that someone should never give up. Maybe someone’s talents are better used serving music in a different way, whether it’s in administration or education. This is why I love that the conservatories are getting more creative about training musicians and telling them: “OK, we’re not all going to be stars, so just in case, start thinking now about what else you’d like to do. Here are the different levels of training in the opera: administration, marketing, publicity.” It’s getting the students to at least think about other options.
On the other hand, for some people, it’s music or die! They really just have to be performing. That’s their raison d’être. It was never that way for me. For me, it was more about the process of growing and achieving. I could have continued loving music at an amateur level. It wasn’t about performing. In fact, I never really enjoyed performing. I had to learn how to do that, because I am not a natural performer. So it’s always been easy for me to imagine doing something else—but I would want to be successful at it.
We all have to discover within us what the driving forces really are. Is it music? Is it singing? Is it performing? Or is it more a need to be loved? Is it a need to be validated publicly? Could any of those things be achieved some other way?
How do you keep in shape?
I’ve become a Pilates fanatic. Pilates is especially beneficial for performers, because it’s strength and flexibility training. I enjoy it. That was my gift to myself when I moved back to New York. I decided to do something for my body. I also like to ski and I walk, but I’ve never been very athletic.
In terms of food, I lead a low-carb lifestyle—that’s been crucial in maintaining a reasonable weight. Those two things together have really done a lot for my health.
What is your philosophy of life?
Well, I can say that what I’m trying to do now is find balance in my life, which is not easy, because I’ve always been somewhat of a workaholic, and I finally recently acknowledged it. I just enjoy work. I am fortunate because I am very passionate about my work. However, it should never be everything.
I try to always imagine that it could all be over tomorrow. The voice can fall apart for many different reasons. I try to keep in touch with the fact that that could occur and I would still be OK. So, if I have a philosophy, it’s in a sense staying connected to that idea. It’s keeping my feet on the ground.
What is the experience like for you to learn a piece of music especially written for you, such as Brad Mehldau’s songs, which you will premiere at Carnegie Hall?
I enjoy it. I love new music. I love the idea that I am potentially making a contribution to the real creative work—which is the music itself, because we are re-creative artists. Brad’s songs are so beautiful; I’ve always been a huge fan of his and his jazz playing. He’s managed to maintain and keep this unique voice I like so much, while, in a sense, allowing it to morph into a more classical genre. The lines are very fine, and one can sense them a bit more as classical music rather than jazz.
Does the composer give you a lot of artistic freedom in collaborating?
He has actually never done this before. He’s been very serious about it, and has taken a year and a half to write these pieces—a 40-minute song cycle; it’s a substantial piece. He came to me early on with the first examples, and I was able to guide him a little bit, so I did have some input. In the end, he’s managed to put on paper, very specifically, exactly what he wants. I have a big job ahead of me to learn them, because the rhythms are very complex. He means every little rhythm and every little syncopation. I am proud to be part of this.
Any parting words of advice for singers?
I would say that young singers tend to get so caught up in the minutia of what it is that they’re trying to do vocally, artistically, musically, interpretatively, and in terms of their image. I would just connect them to the big picture. The big picture when they go into an audition is presenting, in a sense, their personality. That’s so much a part of the presentation. It’s so important that they feel confident about who they are, and if they’re not confident, that they at least pretend to feel confident from the moment they walk in the door.
They also have to put themselves in the place of the judges, who want everyone to do well but have heard 200 singers already, or maybe more. How are you going to stand out? It’s not by singing the most difficult, longest piece, and making the jury suffer through a whole scene. It’s by doing what you do best and being as artistic as you can be in that moment.
The goal should be to make the judges forget that they are in a small room, so treat it more like a performance. Sing what suits you best!
[For a full biography and information about Renée Fleming, please visit her website: www.renee-fleming.com.]
[Special thanks to Marty Sohl for providing various photos of Ms. Fleming for this article. You may visit her website at
www.martysohlphoto.com.]
