Karen Slack: Expanding Her Influence

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n the winter of 2020, the sumptuous soprano Karen Slack was soaring on the success of her latest season, which boasted an impressive array of career highlights including the premiere of Terence Blanchard’s Fire Shut Up in My Bones at Opera Theatre of Saint Louis, a critically acclaimed recital with Opera Philadelphia’s Festival O19, the debut of Healing Tones by Hannibal Lokumbe with the Philadelphia Orchestra, and a return to the stage of the Metropolitan Opera as Serena in Porgy and Bess. In the wake of such an extraordinary year, the average artist might look back, exhale, take a vacation, and decompress. However, Slack—known lovingly to her friends as Kiki—looked at things differently. While she was pleased with her accomplishments, she was already thinking of innovative ways to continue growing and evolving in her artistry. Then, the world turned upside down.

The global outbreak of COVID-19 devastated musicians everywhere, and each new wave of canceled operas, concerts, and recitals brought fresh heartache across the U.S. The next painful blow to America’s psyche landed on May 25, when George Floyd perished at the hands of a police officer. American society was forced to confront painful truths, and artists were unable to provide communal catharsis through traditional means. Instead of retreating and insulating herself from the societal chaos, Slack unapologetically jumped into the cultural fray with a renewed sense of passion and purpose.

As the world grappled with a new wave of trauma, opera companies sought to provide healing. One of the most noteworthy discussions occurred when J’Nai Bridges, in conjunction with LA Opera, hosted a video conversation on racial justice with several prominent Black artists. Slack was on the auspicious panel, which also included Julia Bullock, Lawrence Brownlee, Russell Thomas, and Morris Robinson. Each artist candidly expressed sorrow, frustration and, ultimately, a sense of renewed hope.

At a time when so many artists felt lost, aimless, and unproductive, Slack’s opportunities continued to expand. She launched a regular web series, KikiKonversations, which features a live, in-depth evening with Slack and a new guest artist every week. In the first few episodes, Slack sat down to share a fresh and authentic dialogue with superstars like Ailyn Pérez, Christine Goerke, John Holiday, Stephanie Blythe, Jake Heggie, Davóne Tines, and many other noteworthy artists in the pantheon of opera.

KikiKonversations opened the door for Slack to broaden her influence. The Dallas Opera’s TDO Network invited her to host several episodes on their platform, and Portland Opera created a new position for her. Beginning this season, Slack and Damien Geter will serve as artistic advisors for the company, working with current leadership on repertoire, casting, public programming, and community engagement. And, while there have been virtually no options to sing for a live audience in person since February, Slack has flourished in recent online performances including Madison Opera’s “Opera in the Park,” a digital concert with Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, and a star-studded online tribute to Jessye Norman—in honor of the late soprano’s 75th birthday.

Slack is uniquely poised to meet the tumultuous realities of 2020 with meaningful artistry and an authentic point of view. She is still the same gifted artist, but suddenly people are remembering anew her special blend of talent and charisma. Slack recently took a break between Zoom meetings to share her thoughts on her most recent career developments.

How would you sum up the current state of your artistic journey?

Blessed! I rarely ever take a moment to sit and think about how far I’ve come, but when I do, I am completely overwhelmed. With all of the peaks and valleys that the career can dish out, I would be dishonest if I said it has all been smooth and joyful. I feel like I am one of those singers who has been around and had success, but many feel I should have a bigger career by this point. There were roles I turned down because they were offered too early in my career and others that haven’t materialized yet. I still believe some of these dream roles will happen, but because of the current system, that just hasn’t come to pass yet.

I embrace that I am the epitome of persistence in the face of adversity. There are a few of us who have been doing this for a very long time and have never given up and never stopped singing. When I was not being hired and was sadly looked over, I created my own opportunities! In spite of the roadblocks I faced, I found a way to continue to exercise my passion.

I got married in 2007, I survived the 2008 financial crisis after making my surprise Metropolitan Opera debut in the title role of Verdi’s Luisa Miller in 2006, and my career was taking off wonderfully. Because of the crisis, I lost seasons of contracts as things were canceled and companies closed, and then I switched from my European agent to a U.S. agency with an empty calendar. I’ve still managed to carve out an extremely diverse career for myself that looks very much like the kind of artist that I have always wanted to be.

We always hear the Opera News cover story or the overnight success [stories], but we don’t hear the difficult side: the real stories of what it takes to achieve and maintain a career and the effort it takes to break through locked doors.

What was your secret to navigating through those challenges?

My parent’s prayers and [that] I never gave up on myself! I continued to work on my craft and am always trying to learn new repertoire and push myself—sort of reinventing my art, in a way. Though exhausted sometimes, I have never been afraid to start over! I’ve always believed in my talent. I’ve always believed in myself, what I have to offer, and who I am as a human and an artist.

How many times have you wanted to walk away? What made you feel like throwing in the towel?

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told myself I should do something else. Every time I said I am done with the hustle, I got another job and a new opportunity presented itself. What I have decided is that I won’t let anyone else dictate when I’m done. I’ll make that decision for myself. I won’t let locked doors keep me out.

When I’m ready to walk away, I will walk away. Discouragement came when I saw the jobs I was up for given to my wonderful friends and colleagues. There have been companies that would explicitly or implicitly say, “When you come, come with an aria from a Black opera.” But when I studied at the Curtis Institute of Music and San Francisco Opera Adler Fellowship, I didn’t learn to only sing Porgy and Bess or Sister Rose in Dead Man Walking. I learned the same repertoire as white sopranos!

When I began my career, I was not prepared for this side of the business. I didn’t think it would happen to me. It was never that I looked to be the star and on the cover of all the opera magazines, but I slowly realized how people viewed me. I learned midway through my career that when people heard me, they saw the color of my skin. They recognized my talent, but I was being put in a box as a Black singer. They’re hearing you with their eyes and not their ears.

How do you define success if it’s not the cover of a magazine?

Success for me is being able to pay my bills. I have been able to do that for over 20 years purely from my instrument. That is a wonderful blessing. Success has changed over time. For now, it’s being able to collaborate with incredible artists that I respect, performing new works, and creating/singing new roles—both in standard repertoire and new music. To create a legacy, it’s a gift to be the first to create a role and sing it first.

I want to travel more and work with great conductors. I want to work with people who inspire me to push my artistry beyond its limits. Is success becoming rich? Not necessarily.

It’s having more opportunities to have artistically fulfilling experiences and to fulfill my potential—becoming the artist I always wanted to be. To me, that goal is not attached to a dollar sign or being considered a superstar. When I’m done singing, I want to be able to pass down the lessons I learned from tremendous artists who I made music with and from those that came before me.

What would you say to young singers that you wish had been said to you?

You have to trust yourself more. Be honest with yourself. If you’re doing the work the way you need to be doing the work, you don’t have to be quite so hard on yourself. We want to get everything right and please everyone but, through the work, you’ll realize that you don’t have to fight so hard.

Things will eventually come to you when you do that work. It may not be the way you anticipated it or the way you see other people achieving it, but remember that you are a student of the art form. You are not above it. You are the vessel.

Everything flows through you—the music, the text, and the interpretation. It’s your own unique talent. You are a business and you need to learn how to take care of that business.

How would you describe the feeling of returning to the Metropolitan Opera stage in 2020 versus the experience of debuting at the Met in 2005?

What I felt was more confidence. I knew what I was doing. I knew how to step on that stage and knew how to deliver. The nerves didn’t come from my surroundings, but from wanting to do my best.

The first time I stepped onto that stage, I was brand new. I didn’t have those other major kinds of experiences under my belt. This time, I felt like it was overdue. This is what should’ve happened already.

Beyond your formidable singing career, you’re branching out and spreading your wings as a consultant and a media presence. How did this happen?

Those who know me best know I resisted it for a while. I had thought about exploring this side of my work but, at first, I talked myself out of it because I didn’t think people would be interested in what I had to say. I knew my inner circle of friends would participate, but I didn’t think I was perceived as a big enough name to draw a following for this kind of conversation. But in the end, I found that my assumptions were totally wrong. It has been tremendous.

I get messages all the time saying, “Please keep doing this.” People have been supportive. They say they’re learning meaningful lessons. I didn’t have any idea that this little platform would open up so many things. I just wanted to sit down and talk with a friend of mine each week.

I didn’t realize I had this unique skill set. In 2008, when the economy changed, it helped me realize I have a talent to teach. This situation was similar. I realized I have a skill for connecting with people through conversation, and it turns out that people want to see more of it.

How do you choose your guests for your KikiKonversations?

I essentially pull from my network of folks that I have personal relationships with or that I have been eager to talk to. If it is someone I don’t know, I ask my friends to connect me. I generally schedule one month at a time and plan by intuition, always considering my audience first! It’s just like planning a recital in many ways.

I write it out, do my research, and if it doesn’t feel right, I switch it up. I built my platform for artists and people to spotlight not just their talent, but for the other things people don’t often have the chance to see and hear. In this place, it’s always about the guest and not about me. Everything from my perspective is coming from a place of service.

How did you begin stepping into your power in places like Portland Opera and the Women’s Opera Network at OPERA America?

I realized that I already have learned many necessary leadership skills in my singing career. You can always learn to read a spreadsheet and to balance a budget, but the other elements of the art form take decades to learn. I wish more artists understood what they could bring to the table. Not everyone is a leader—but for those who have the capacity and the interest, they could really help this industry. I look around and I don’t see other people in those kinds of positions who look like me.

I saw that not as a hindrance but, when I didn’t see it around me, I said to myself, “I will be that person.” I want the next young Black girl to say, “If Karen could do this, that means I can too.” If I hadn’t heard Jessye Norman and seen Denyce Graves onstage when I was in my teens, I would not be here today. If I can be that example for the next generation, it will have all been worthwhile.

Beyond your representation, what do you see yourself changing in your capacity as a leader?

I want to change the narrative and remind opera companies that they need to serve the communities they’re in. They need to know the company belongs to the people. We need to have a space where we can all come and feel welcome. Opera is our opportunity as a community to come together and experience the art. As a leader, I want everyone to feel welcome from the front of the house through the entire experience of the evening.

We need to honor our communities. We need to meet people where they are. If there is an instance where people don’t feel comfortable or welcome, that has to change. I’ve experienced those barriers myself and I work in this industry!

When you go to Cincinnati, Detroit, or some of these other great companies, you see the diversity all around you in the audience. You breathe a sigh of relief and say, “OK, I’m going to feel safe and welcomed here.” I know [David] DiChiera in Detroit worked very hard to have a rich tapestry of people involved throughout the company. He put in the time and did the work to make it all a reality. I think other companies can look to these examples and learn some of the same lessons for their own organizations.

Are you encouraged by the changes that appear to be happening right now in terms of equity and diversity in the opera world?

Honestly, every day my feelings are changing. It can be emotional whiplash. Looking back, I wasn’t always the first one people thought of to include in these conversations. Now that I created this online platform and it provided a place for me and other artists to speak, people all of a sudden say they always loved me. I’m still the same artist, but people are now taking a fresh look at my work.

We must all commit to do the work—the hard work. Those who are not willing to do that work need to step aside and let the rest of us move forward. We’ve all done the panels, and now it’s time to roll up our sleeves and take the next important steps.

The time has come for artists to stop leading from behind. We should be out in front, and I hope people in leadership will listen to us more and take our thoughts to heart. Artists have important things to say.

How will you continue to push yourself to keep growing?

I’m taking this time to create my own projects. I’m reading a lot and listening a lot. I’m learning to be a producer and tell stories I want to tell. Hopefully, I can help support companies in their ability to do that for their audiences.

I want to tell all different kinds of stories—in recital format or bigger productions. I have a couple of projects in the pipeline that are deeply meaningful to me on a personal and artistic level. If it touches my soul, I know it will affect audiences too. We want to push boundaries and try innovative approaches.

We artists still need a platform and a stage to create. There is nothing like hearing the human voice and feeling that physical vibration in the actual space. It’s a living, breathing thing that we’re still hoping and needing to bring to people everywhere as soon as it’s safe to resume those performances.

What do you want younger singers to know in 2020?

I’m truthful with the young singers I mentor. A lot of them are obsessed with being famous. They think singing opera is glamorous because of everything they’re bombarded with on social media. They see the glossy finished, polished package, but not the sacrificial side.

They don’t see the trials and obstacles that people overcome on their way to the top. On YouTube, you can become an overnight sensation if you tap into a viral meme. Opera doesn’t work that way. People like me have learned how to maintain a career over decades.

There are many people who have achieved and maintained these careers. Young people might not know their names or respect what they can bring, but this is the heart and soul of the opera business in our country. These artists and their journeys need to be highlighted.