After his retirement, Franco Corelli took on a number of voice students. One of them was bass Ethan Herschenfeld, who began his vocal training with Corelli and had this to say about their two years of work together:
“We worked for two or three months on ‘ma, ma, ma’ on a descending sol, mi, do arpeggio, working my voice from bottom to top. He explained that in his conservatory training they did this for a full six months before singing a note of a single song or aria (belying the myth of Corelli as a complete ‘natural’), but that we would do it exclusively for a month or two, as a concession, I guess, to the impatient new world.”
The lessons took place in Corelli’s lead-lined studio, sound-proofed for the sake of his neighbors. Herschenfeld found Corelli to be a kind and thoughtful teacher who had a wonderful sense of humor. He quoted some of Corelli’s images regarding singing.
“When you sing, feel like the air is a-zmoke [smoke].”
“ He said this making a gesture of the smoke filling his mouth and pouring out,” Herschenfeld explained.
“Sing like-a you zpeek.”
“Imagine the voice coming from your beard” [with a gesture or a long beard growing forward from the chin].
“He also liked to speak of the voice coming straight out of the neck.”
“You must dominate the voice.”
“He said this frequently, suggesting an athletic, even competitive relationship to his throat. I realize this goes against the focus of some teachers on relaxation and ease, but of course, on some level all singing is effortful. Corelli was a master of this effort disguised as ease.”
Herschenfeld also recalls that Corelli expressed regret that he never learned to play the piano.
“He’d look at his hand, mildly disgusted, and say something like, ‘I never learned to play.’ I think he shared this regret with many singers.”
Corelli had this warning when asked about what habits, behaviors or substances to avoid:
“Nothing about hot or cold, or spicy, or dairy, but instead this very old-school, boxing-coach-style nugget of wisdom, delivered with a cautionary shake of the head and wag of the finger: ‘The nighta before-a you zing, no zeks.’
Herschenfeld recalls his last meeting with Corelli:
“The last time I saw him was Christmas ’96 in his apartment in Milan with his wife. This was two years after I stopped studying with him. He invited me over, and had me sing some scales with him at the piano.”
His parting thoughts about the tenor as a teacher:
“I’ve heard about Corelli the temperamental or neurotic artist, but I never saw anything like that. As a teacher he was always very supportive, and intellectually and artistically curious about how to get over technical hurdles and help my vocal development.”
