The opera world lost a great friend recently. Actually, the world lost a great guy.
I met Charles J. Riecker, better known as Charlie, about eight years ago on my first trip to New York City. He was giving a masterclass which I attended. I knew no one in New York but here was smiling Charlie.
How lucky was I? I immediately began coaching with him over on Riverside Drive. We hit it off well because he and I were the odd ones out in our families. You see, we both hailed from what we termed “cop” families. Cops, well, police, reigned in our families with huge personalities much like that of any opera singer. We both knew what it was to be teased about living the life of opera. Our conversations would bounce back and forth between Mozart and police work. To me, Charlie was just a regular guy transplanted into the magical world of opera, and that made him all the more special.
Charlie and Wally’s apartment was what everyone in the Midwest thinks a New York apartment should look like. There were wall-to-wall books, opera recordings, and paint that was any color other than white. From floor to ceiling, color was everywhere. Beautiful furniture filled the rooms and reminders of music graced every corner. While looking out across the river, I would warm up in his living room listening to whatever aria was pouring out of the student before me. Charlie would then greet me in the living room with his usual flare. “Hello dearie, and how are we today?” This was always followed with a huge hug and a smile. How could you not love New York when you got to sing for Charlie? I would enter the music room with a piano filled with pictures of his life at the Met. Sometimes during my singing I would be startled when I saw Freni and Charlie laughing at a table out of the corner of my eye.
Charlie gave me advice I will forever be grateful for: “No matter what, you must learn your craft, study it, take time with it. Don’t rush. Train like a violinist, and then you can have the kind of career that a singer deserves.” Sound advice from a great guy.
Luckily, I was in New York this past May and was able to hang out with Charlie yet again. He greeted me in the living room as he always did with his same warm smile. I will miss Charlie. The opera world will never be the same for me or for the many lives he touched. I hope he knows how much he meant. Life ends, but memories last forever, and his legacy will live on. Adieu, Charlie.
Charles Riecker was a member of the Metropolitan Opera’s artistic and technical staffs, 1959-97. Upon retirement in ‘97 Charlie held many masterclasses, lectured, and coached privately in New York City. Charlie was a distinguished visiting artist with the University of Memphis and served as associate professor of voice at the University of Maryland. Our sincerest sympathy to Charlie’s wife, Wally.
