Angela M. Brown’s spectacular Metropolitan Opera debut as Aida on Oct. 29, 2004 was the stuff of singers’ dreams. The New York Times called it a “major event,” and “Times” critic Anne Midgette exclaimed, “At last an Aida!” Ms. Brown’s star has continued to rise since then—but her rise to fame has not been typical, or easy.
Raised on gospel music in her Baptist church, Ms. Brown imagined herself continuing with religious music or possibly musical theatre. Her studies at a small college in Alabama, however, led her to Virginia Zeani and Indiana University, where her classical studies began. After three previous attempts, she won the national Metropolitan Opera Auditions at the age of 33—it was her fourth attempt, and her last year of eligibility.
The 2003-2004 season was particularly exciting for this new star, with glowing reviews in the New York Times, Opera Now, and Opera News, as well as appearances at Carnegie Hall, the Opera Company of Philadelphia, and the Metropolitan Opera.
Classical Singer’sMaria Nockin recently spoke with Ms. Brown by telephone from the soprano’s New York apartment.
Did you grow up in a musical atmosphere?
It was not a musical home in the traditional sense that would involve piano playing, but there was a great deal of music in our home. My grandfather was a Baptist preacher, and my mother often sang in his church. Some people thought she might become the next Marion Anderson. My mother was a soprano, but Anderson was the only singer of color we had to compare her with.
I did not start taking formal voice lessons until I was 21 years old. I knew that I wanted to study singing, but I had no idea that I would have to study classical music in order to do it seriously. Although I had sung gospel music all my life, I thought I would like to go into musical theatre.
I did my undergraduate work at Oakwood College in Huntsville, Ala., which I chose because it teaches the Seventh Day Adventist faith. My teacher there, Ginger Beazley, had studied with Virginia Zeani, and every year she would take her whole studio up to Indiana University for a weekend of master classes with the great Romanian singer. I started off as a mezzo, but when Zeani heard me, she said: “Dahlink, you are not a mezzo-soprano, you are a Verdian soprano, a dramatic soprano. Verdi’s blood courses through your veins.”
After graduating from Oakwood, I continued my studies at Indiana University, and in 1991, I started to do competitions. At first, I tried to pick out the contests that I had the best chance of winning. At that time, I needed to do the ones that did not have big prizes, where the other singers were not too far ahead of me. I cut my teeth on local competitions and then worked up to the bigger ones.
One thing I can truly say is that I’ve heard “no” a lot. It takes a while before you can hear “no” and not let it affect you adversely. You have to think that “no” this year does not mean “no” for next year. I’ve done many contests more than once. Sometimes it paid off and sometimes it didn’t—but when I didn’t win, I just had to shake the dust from my feet and keep on going. Sometimes a competition is not for you.
How do you judge a teacher or a coach?
Zeani is still my teacher, but now she has retired to Florida, so I go there to work with her. As far as coaches go, I don’t always want them to tell me my interpretation is perfect, but I do want to feel that they have my best interest at heart. If a coach wants to change everything that has worked for me and has gotten me this far, I’ll try it for a while. If I’m not comfortable with the results, I’ll go elsewhere.
How did you get your manager?
Back in 1995, when I was at Indiana University, I had a sponsor who gave me the money to make a CD. I needed a producer to work on it with me, and that turned out to be Janet Jarriel, my current manager. She was at the same school getting her master’s in arts management. Earlier, she had produced organist Diane Bish’s TV shows and had dealt with her recordings. I found her very professional and noticed that she had a talent for dealing with people and contracts.
When I needed someone to help me manage my career, I asked Janet to do it. She sent out résumés and headshots, even though it was not very lucrative for her. Later, she said she thought I might want to go to a large firm, but I suggested we work together to see what would happen. We grew up together professionally and we have made a great team. Now, what is good for me is good for her, too. To the people who say I need a New York agent, I say, “If it’s not broke, why fix it?” Our business relationship has been a blessing for both of us.
Have you sung in Europe?
Yes, my European debut was in 1998 as Amelia in Un ballo in mascheraat La Fenice—but it was not in the new building. I sang in the tent. In 2000, I went back there and sang a string of Verdi Requiems.
How do you choose roles?
Honestly, I’m just beginning to delve deeply into opera. I’m sticking closely to Verdi right now, because I think it’s best for my voice. I want to sing that while my voice is young and pliable. I think my voice has enough force, thrust and drama in it to cut through the Verdi orchestra.
How do you deal with the stress of performing?
Until lately, what I’ve been doing at the Met was mostly covering, but then I got a call saying that I was to sing. I had a bit of a hysterical moment. [She illustrates by exclaiming “O my God!” on pitches well above the staff.] For some reason, I did not think anyone at the Met would get sick. After all, it is the MET! But we’re all human, and in truth, anyone can become ill.
How do you deal with singing before a large audience?
I don’t think of the audience. I just concentrate on going out and singing—but I do look into the size of the hall and its acoustics. I really don’t have a problem with nerves. You need healthy adrenaline to get out on stage.
Before every performance, I pray that someone will be touched by my singing in a way that they have never been touched before. Then I go out there and try to give the best performance I can possibly give. I know that you should always sing on the interest, not the principal, but I do try to use up all the interest.
How do you keep in shape?
Although I’m overweight, I exercise regularly. I’ve got big bones and many people in my family are chunky. I’m a vegetarian, and I try not to eat dairy. For the most part, I’d like to do a vegan diet, but that’s hard when you’re on the road. I try to think of eating “clean” food, meaning things that are full of water, like salads and fruit. I like simple food and I drink a great deal of water. Unfortunately, there are times, particularly around holidays, when people serve dishes like macaroni and cheese.
How do you decide what to wear when you sing?
A singer needs to wear things that make her look good, not just things that she likes. When someone tells you that a certain outfit looks great on you, make a note of that. Above all, a singer needs to keep her clothes simple, so that they do not distract from her performance. You need a little color on your eyes, cheeks and lips, too. It’s also important to keep your hair off your face so that the audience can see your expressions.
Tell me about your program, “Opera from a Sistah’s Point of View.”
I formulated it in 1996 as a vehicle to help create audiences for opera. It started as a one-woman show, but as it grew, my colleague Kishna Davis joined me. It’s not just aimed at African-Americans; it’s really for any group of people who would not normally go to the opera. We tell the audience about supertitles and that they don’t have to understand the foreign language. We let them know that opera is affordable, too, and that they can just sit back and enjoy the beautiful music—after a little bit of homework, like reading the plot in the program or listening to a pre-performance lecture.
If we young singers want people to come and see us, we have to get out and shake the bushes, to let people know that they will enjoy our performances. Kishna and I talk about how we see the characters we sing, and we make it fun, in a tongue-in-cheek manner. Our programs consist of opera arias, art songs by black composers, and familiar spirituals. After a few years of doing these shows, I notice that many of the people we introduced to opera come to performances at the opera house.
Which operas do you think are the best for neophytes?
Of course, Porgy and Bess is a natural for any audience, and Carmen has one hit tune after another. La bohème is another popular piece. Opera is the music of life. You hear it all the time in commercials. You hear hip-hop and jazz, too, but it’s opera that you most often hear on television and on the sound track from your favorite movie.
Do you have a private life?
I try to make time for one. I’m not married and I don’t have any children, but I do make time to be with friends and family … and to go shopping. Like any girl, I love to shop! Most of my socialization in New York has to do with my church, but when I go home to Indiana, I spend time with my family.
What advice do you have for young singers?
Create your own success. Be encouraged by the success of others, but create your own destiny. Don’t wait for someone to give you a job, make one. That’s where “Opera from a Sistah’s Point of View” came in for me. I had a slow period and I needed some cash. There were churches that I knew wanted concerts, so I put an appropriate program together.
I think the best thing young singers can do is to construct theme-based concerts. If you can come up with a theme that interests the audience, you have a viable project.
Above all, don’t give up. Make your own success. Go for it!
What are the most important performances you have coming up?
Besides covering at the Met, I will be singing in the Dayton Opera concert, “Opera goes to the Movies,” on May 21 and 22, and beginning July 14, I will portray Cilla in Richard Danielpour’s new work, Margaret Garner, at Cincinnati Opera.
Do you have any recordings out?
In October of 2004, Albany Records released “Mosaic,” on which I sing African-American spirituals, with piano and guitar accompaniment by Tyron Cooper and Joseph Joubert.
