Patty Thom was Chair of Voice and Opera at the Conservatory when I got hired, and she led the search committee for my job.
When I was rehearsing the NY show, I asked her to come listen to Scott and me run the program so that
☝️ I knew I could sing the stuff while nervous, and
✌️ She could tell me if any of my riskier song choices were steeped in vocal delusion.
I also knew she’d be an honest and loving presence.
When your boss has great musical acumen, seasoned teaching skill, nuanced opinions, and top-notch Boston restaurant recommendations, their point of view means a lot.
She’s been a cheerleader of mine, and so have the other leaders and colleagues in the music division. It’s been a true example of “go where you’re celebrated,” and I couldn’t recommend that advice enough.
(People can say in low yoga voice, “your happiness comes from within,” all they want, but your environment makes a difference.
Imagine putting a geranium in a shaded, dry corner of your yard and saying, “Now, sun loving, water-needing flower, grow!”)
So, Patty came and listened.
She told us stories about the time Phyllis Curtin (the original Susannah in Carlisle Floyd’s opera) called her last minute to play the score while Curtin coached at New York City Opera. ?
And when I sang something unfamiliar, she said, “Now what is that from?”
People who don’t pretend like they know things have my heart.
After the rehearsal that evening, Patty reached out with some thoughtful texts about the program which meant a lot.
She also revealed to me that when I applied for the job here, my name had already been on her radar during my LA days.
She had me on a list of recommended teachers in California.
Wha?
And I thought it was my cover letter with the Dunkin’ Donuts opener that sealed the deal.
The years when I taught in LA — before grad school, while I was learning anatomy and physiology on my own, while I was still unclear about the actual function of the soft palate —
That’s when my name was on a list in the Chair’s office at Boston Conservatory.
And looking back, while I know I helped singers get good results with their technique, I think the thing that made the most difference in LA was this —
I gave a shit.
I cared about each person that walked into the Lori Moran Studio in Mid-Wilshire or the bordello-chique piano room at Madilyn Clark Studios (if you were there for the burgundy velvet fringed window treatment, you know), and later the singing cottage on Vineland Ave.
If I didn’t have the answer, I’d call someone who might.
And then folks just wanted to say nice things.
They emailed testimonials when they booked national tours.
They told their friends, “Hey this guy who might stick his index finger into your jaw muscle and talk about magic bubbles helped me out.”
It’s crazy as I look back and see how much I didn’t know then and how I was still able to help folks sing better.
And someone told someone who told Patty Thom, “Hey, this guy’s a recommendable teacher out in LA.”
It’s rare when you get a backtrack moment like that. Most of the time, we remain clueless about the outer ripples of our actions.
This reveal from Patty made me want to tell you that kindness, respect, love, and good work — that always goes out ahead of you as a messenger.
Especially in the theatre. Folks love to talk.
And if you show up and are delightful, we’ll want to be the ones who told somebody about how great you are.
I just recommended a colleague of mine for a regional production here, and it worked out great. And I felt so smart :). I love solving problems.
So, please remember — if you’ve done good work before and were lovely in the process, folks remember. They might’ve even talked about you.
And right now, what good work can you be doing that builds something you want to share? The one person show ideas you keep batting away? Booking a studio room and having a song soiree (WITH refreshments, of course)? Getting your audition book right and tight?
And while it’s not your business nor in your control, you never know whose list you might end up on.
(You’re definitely on my thank-you list. I love getting to write to you every week.)
And in the meantime, you know what I’m going to say. There is indeed only one you. And folks need to hear the story only you can share.
Love much,
Dan
