Wonderful memory
of singing with the world famous soprano
of singing with the world famous soprano
Carol Neblett
In spring of 1997, I was asked to join a private group for an arts and culture appreciation trip to Tuscany, Italy. Six of us were chosen to stay at Castello di Gargonza, and to perform for a night of special importance at the Cortona Opera House. As the broadway singer, I was teamed up with an opera singer to do some duets from our favorite musicals. Neither of us had met each other before. I was a bit worried because my broadway/cabaret style was not very disciplined, and I had an off color interpretation of many standard songs. I was worried that singing with an operatic soprano would be absolute misery due to the clash of styles. And my lord, I thought what could be a more tempermental coupling than a tenor and a soprano in Italy, then I met Carol. The first time I heard her sing I was physically stunned. Her voice moved through my body like a spirit of force. In the world, there are few voices of her quality, and gifted to such charisma.
A tall and beautiful woman, buxom and sexy, she was full of good humor, quick wit, and a love of music of all kinds. We snuck away with our awesome pianist and tried to cram for the show later in the week. I found out that I had been assigned to partner with Carol because she was a big personality and it was believed I could "manage" her. The truth is, she was so much fun, so naughty, and very into making it clear that she was her own person, and that her spirit was free. We got along well, and I felt like I was her courtier. I really liked her energy. When she performed she wore an outstanding blue dress adorned by a jeweled pin she had been given by Prince Charles after a command performance. It suited her. She let me touch the pin, and I could see she loved her life as an opera star, and realized how rare an experience it was.
For that week Carol and I spent a lot of time together making fun of some of the other guests, talking about our love of music, and drinking red wine late into the evening. One night she pressured the restaurant's kitchen into feeding us extra dessert but singing to them in Italian. She told me she would show me how to get tiramisu from a closed kitchen. She stood up in her blue gown, adjusted her ample bust, gave me a look of mischief, and marched through the serving doors, shocking the chef and his staff. After 2 arias, we had tiramisu and limoncello at our table.
In the castle where we were staying, there was a small ancient church, and Carol and I would walk by it every evening on our way back from rehearsal, then dinner and wine drinking. I would drop her there and she would go up to her room for the evening, and I would go to mine. It was not hard work, and it was nice to be one of 6 guest performers who were paid handsomely, fed well, treated with adoration and respect, and given first class lodging and travel.
Carol and I had dressing rooms next to each other at the Cortona Opera House, a cold stone cave of a building in use since the early 1600's. The dressing rooms were damp and chilly, and the late spring in Tuscany was full of blooming flowers and trees. I got through the rehearsal, and tried to adjust to performing in such an odd mausoleum-like space, but as my sinuses and throat swelled, I felt increasingly worried about singing anything.
