Singers sometimes think that they as people aren’t anything more than their voice. Sometimes singers keep auditioning or performing long past when it’s good for the rest of their life, family, emotional health, finances, or partner. The process of trying to have, or actually having, a professional mid- or high-level career is exhausting for everyone: the singer, the teacher, and the supporting members of the family. Once that great pinnacle—let’s say, singing at the Met—is reached, the stress everyone has to endure can become even greater. Some singers scale back their ambitions or leave the business because it is too much to try to juggle everything or they “read the writing on the wall.” But others leave because they’ve had enough of the struggle or just want to move on. For struggling singers who focus solely on that one goal—a career in the big opera houses—leaving the business seems inconceivable.
But some of the biggest names around have done just that.
I spoke with and interviewed via e-mail three such singers who have had major careers, sung in all the big houses in the world, and sung all their dream roles with casts that would make any singer green with envy. Each one also stepped away from that career with a lot of healthy singing still left in their voice. Yet, they are all happy and content in the lives they have woven for themselves after ending their full-time singing careers.
Michael Sylvester: Tenor to Travel Guru
When I spoke with tenor Michael Sylvester, stuck in bad weather on a highway in Ohio, he expressed a satisfaction with his life that one wouldn’t expect from someone used to the adulation of thousands and now driving five miles an hour. After retiring from the stage, Sylvester owned and operated a travel business, organizing choral festivals and booking overseas tours for choral groups. He and his advisors spent two years of due diligence researching this business before he bought it, but then 9/11 happened and put a serious dent in the travel industry, causing the business to fold this last year. Even when discussing this setback, Sylvester has a positive perspective on the investment. He now consults for another travel company, putting to good use his expertise honed while owning his own business.
Sylvester has definitely not retired to a rocking chair now that he is no longer singing full time—but with Domingo, Pavarotti, and Kraus having sung into their 60s, I was curious as to why he retired early.
“Several things I had been considering all came together at one point, and that was the tipping point,” he remembers. “First, I had major back surgery in 1994. I had had some back problems, but up until that time I had managed without surgery. But the medication made my mouth dry and I was not physically comfortable. My back would spasm out of nowhere and I became less confident of what I could do, and it made singing so much less enjoyable.
“A second factor was that my son and wife had traveled with me for four years, but he was getting to the age where he needed a home life. I went on the road by myself for a couple years but after just five months of that, I decided that I wanted to cut back. But at the level at which I was singing, you can’t really sing part time.
“The final deciding factor for me was seeing how the directors were taking over and how the music was becoming secondary. I was not happy with that aspect of the business so, after 30 years of singing, I retired just five years short of my goal of 55.”
At this point, Sylvester chuckles with embarrassment as he reveals a life-long secret.
“I know it sounds corny, but even when I was a little kid, I dreamed of owning a business. I wanted to be an entrepreneur or run a big corporation. The idea of having only one career in a lifetime seems boring to me. I made the right decision to leave when I did. I had a colleague in ‘Ariadne’ once who said, ‘You’re darn right I’m going to spend 10 years singing past my prime. That will make up for the 10 years when I was singing great and nobody knew.’
“I have days of mild regret, but I have no desire to return to singing full time. I was so unhappy doing that. Now I have a home life and a greater sense of belonging to [my wife] Michelle. I never had a sense of belonging, except to a community of singers when we would have a six- or eight-week relationship during a production and then never see them again. That’s difficult. Now I’m involved in the structure of my city and the town government here in Indiana.”
In addition to his consulting work, Sylvester also teaches voice at DePaul University in Chicago, the University of Indianapolis, and in his private studio.
“I always thought I would teach after retirement,” Sylvester explains. “I made a promise to my teacher, Margaret Harshaw, that I would teach and pass on what I knew. My high school teacher gave me lessons and said I should give back when I was able. Four years ago, I began teaching and building my studios in Indianapolis and Chicago, and I find it very musically satisfying. Through mentoring and passing information on through the oral tradition is the way great artists learn, and I feel an obligation to pass on what I was taught.”
Sylvester suggests that to prepare for the afterlife, singers should broaden their range of interests before they decide to retire or move on.
“Teaching is fine but not for everybody, and not everyone is a good teacher. When and what you do after depends on who you are and how much of a fallback position you need. The arts are vitally important, but there are plenty of other things in life that are fun, enjoyable, useful, and necessary.” Sylvester repeats an adage which too many of us ignore: “If you can be happy doing something else, do it. The chances of success are small, but if you have to know, you can spend 10 years finding that out. You have to have someone you can trust who will tell you when it’s time to hang it up.”
Sometimes as aspiring singers we are unceremoniously dumped into the afterlife because our career hasn’t been as successful or satisfying as we thought it would be. It’s comforting to know that even the famous sometimes decide to get off the treadmill.
Carol Vaness: From Soprano to Schoolmarm
Carol Vaness (PhD!) left singing full time when her voice was, as it still is, in fantastic condition. Just listen to her sing “Voi lo sapete” from Cavalleria rusticana on YouTube recorded in October of 2008, just two months after having a total knee replacement and two years since her previous stage appearance. (Be forewarned: the video quality is poor, but the singing is exceptional.)
Now that she is not performing full time, Vaness says she is busier than when she was on the road. A tenured professor at Indiana University, she gives masterclasses at the San Francisco Opera Merola program, teaches in the Young Artist Program at Los Angeles Opera, and has been teaching in Des Moines and Dallas as well. Last summer she taught at the Cardiff International Academy in Wales.
Her voice and her music were her life, and Vaness has made family out of many colleagues whom she dearly loves. Still, there were trade-offs for having such a big career. Among her sacrifices, Vaness counts having to give up having children, a stable home, her dogs, her family, a happy marriage, and time with her voice teacher whenever she wanted. Now she has that happy marriage but is racing around imparting her hard-won wisdom to the next generation of singers. Some “retirement”!
Vaness had several occasions in her life when it would have been perfectly reasonable to step into the afterlife. First, a Scarpia in Barcelona fell full weight on her shattering two discs in her back, which caused her to lose all feeling and control of her left leg. There was question if she would ever walk again. She was medevacked to UCLA where doctors fused her back in three places and inserted titanium rods. Inspired by the invitation to sing the title role in Tosca in Pavarotti’s final performance, Vaness endured rehab. Five months later, she jumped off the four-foot parapet in the final death scene of the opera.
A few years later, another Scarpia shoved Vaness, tearing the cartilage in her knee. After enduring years of pain, Vaness underwent a total knee replacement. She is now back on her feet again and is considering taking on a few more gigs. She assured me, however, that she doesn’t feel the tug to return full time to the stage.
“Now I get to decide if and when and where and what I sing. I don’t have to worry if the mortgage is paid or worry that the dogs will have to go without their milk bones.”
Still, Vaness occasionally misses the extra money singing full time allowed. But, then again, she doesn’t miss the astronomical cost of health insurance she paid during her road-warrior years. And in place of the monetary reward, Vaness finds great satisfaction in her afterlife teaching young singers.
“Teaching has added to what I already have and continue to do,” she says. “I love every minute when I am singing or teaching. I am really lucky. I love teaching young singers how to say something and not just be singing robots.”
Does Vaness think singers should give themselves a timeline for when to move on? Flatly she answers, no. She does say that not getting work pretty much sums up the signal to a singer that a major career is not in the offing. Still, she doesn’t tell her students whether or not to pursue a career.
“I’m a teacher, singer, professor, wife, great friend, and doggy mom. It is not for me to tell someone not to go for it. I say do what you love because life is short.”
Vaness signed her e-mail for our interview with “From the not dead or even unhappy.” That pretty much says it all.
Mark Oswald: From Baritone to Pedagogue
Baritone Mark Oswald is known to many in the opera world both for his singing and his wonderful teaching. Oswald made his Met debut at 23 (one of the youngest ever) as Papageno in Die Zauberflöte and went on to sing major roles in all the big houses of the world. He began teaching about three years prior to “respectfully handing future contracts back to the Met.” Currently he teaches 55 hours a week in New York City to satisfy the demand for his expertise.
When I asked him about any longing to return to singing, he said contentedly that he does not miss performing at all. He does, however, miss the musical rehearsals when the composer’s actual intentions and the quality of the voice were the paramount elements in the production. Oswald finds it a privilege to help singers who sing at a high level.
“Most singers can improve their tone, appearance, and musicality. But, frankly, even if they are first-rate singers, many will end up teaching,” he says. “Singers should keep this in mind. Working in the music field is usually more enjoyable than working elsewhere. Advanced degrees are important—I prefer the doctorate over the professional studies degree—but some singers achieve a star status where an advanced degree isn’t necessary to teach at a major conservatory. They [singers] should think about these things prior to retiring.”
Some bigger voices take more time to mature, says Oswald, but his opinion is that five years of post-graduate work with little success is a decent timeline by which to gage whether or not it is time to move on to life after a career. Even though they leave the pursuit of a career, singers can still pursue the art of making ideal sound. Sometimes, they can even come back when the voice is worked out and have another try, “but without giving up their day job,” Oswald cheerfully cautions.
Oswald, like Vaness and Sylvester, suggests the need for singers to find someone they trust to tell them when it’s time to move on. Negative feedback from auditions and comments from coaches and teachers should be signals to ask oneself, “How long should I stick it out? Am I just in for more torture if I continue to pursue this career path?”
“Singers should have an internal awareness of whether things are going well by their sound and being aware of vocal deterioration or vibration issues, which are the most telling signs of needing to rethink a career path,” says Oswald. “Singers should ask direct questions of their coaches and teachers and be prepared for any answer to come from the people whom [they] trust.”
Oswald’s final piece of advice perhaps sums it up best.
“The most important part of the afterlife of a singer is to think positively upon the former life you had as a singer and begin a new, separate life (in my case, as a teacher). One day we will all be away from the singing business, and it is critical to embrace and enjoy the new journey, being grateful for the opportunity to continue to share in ‘music making’ with others.”
All the contact information for these singers who have moved on to the afterlife of teaching can be found in the CS Voice Teacher Directory at www.classicalsinger.com.
