For me, the Convention was smashing chiefly because of the presence of the truly great artist and Metropolitan Opera coach Joan Dornemann. I have read her book, Complete Preparation, which contains some excellent artistic guidance for young people preparing for opera careers. It is a very valuable read I would highly recommend for anyone in the performing arts, opera or no—but such is the limitation of typeface that I had no idea that a) she is Italian, or b) she is one of the greatest comics of all time.
A hundred eager singers had assembled in the freezing rooms of the Brooklyn Marriott, hungry for inspiration, and in walked a diminutive, impeccably coiffed force of nature who looked at us all in that inimitable, understated New York Italian matter-of-fact way and said, “Oh, dear, are you all going to sing? Now I’m all nervous.”
The room exploded in laughter and any residual ice melted, although the room didn’t (the hotel couldn’t seem to get the temperature right—it was either too hot or too cold, and Dornemann’s class was the former).
Then the singing began. A tenor with a beautiful voice sang “Il mio tesoro” from Mozart’s Don Giovanni, and a second time through—because Dornemann had apprehended that he kept tension in his left arm—the same tenor now with a truly world-class voice sang “Il mio tesoro.” When Dornemann swung his arm, the tension disappeared, and five layers of overtones popped out. It was beautiful to behold.
“Well, you know, my dear,” said Dornemann, “if you sing it without swinging your arm, they’ll pay you a hundred dollars, because your voice is gorgeous.” She grinned and added, “But if you swing your arm, they’ll pay you a thousand.”
It was that sort of a masterclass, and I felt as if I were drinking some rare, stimulating, mental and musical wine. I need to be around artists like that more often!
