In between rehearsals, one of our stars in "The Barber of Seville", Emily Douglass, was gracious enough to let us poach some of her down time to respond to our period column of questions.
When did you know you wanted to be an opera singer?
When did you know you wanted to be an opera singer?
It was during my freshman year in college. Up until then, I was studying the French Horn. My professors noticed my voice and encouraged me to pursue vocal studies. I’d heard from my family, “Oh, you have a nice voice” but I never took them seriously until the college professors started to say something.
Did you have a mentor? Who was it and what did he or she do to encourage you?
I had many mentors, however it was my voice teacher who encouraged me to “seize the moment.”
What’s the most unusual or useful advice you’ve ever received concerning your career?
That’s difficult to answer as I’ve received a lot of advice. As a singer, it was difficult to really take any advice provided, since each singer will have different opportunities afforded them and varied career options. But I did pick a lot of brains in the within the industry and have made my own decisions based on the experiences I’ve gone through. I do recall that my voice teacher, Natalie said “Sing with meaning!” and I’ve taken that to heart.
What do you think most people would be surprised to know about working in opera?
It’s a constant financial struggle to make it as an artist. There’s a lot of truth to the “starving artist” perception.
If you could have a different career, what would it be?
I love to teach, but this [singing] is what I’m called to do. It’s what I’m compelled to do.
What’s on your iPod these days?
Hmm…let’s see. My favorite sopranos: Sills, Sutherland, Callas, Fleming, Te Kanawa. I love Yo Yo Ma, so I have some of his music on my iPod. I also love ABBA, John Denver and Joni Mitchell.
What’s your funniest dressing room recollection?
Nothing really funny per se, but it’s pretty typical to have to share a dressing room with at least four other artists in this profession. I do recall one production where I needed to make a quick change of costume and it had to be done offstage in the wings. Typically, this is not an issue since these types of productions have a prepared dressing area with screens or drapes with which to make the change quickly and in some semblance of privacy. There was this one occasion where an opera conductor, who was considering hiring me for a future role, came to watch my current production performance. He was observing my performance from the wings at the opposite end of the stage. Unfortunately, due to the set up of the costume change area, the conductor was able to watch nearly all of my costume change in full view.
If you could live in any other country, what would it be and why?
Italy! I’m drawn to everything about it – the culture, art, people, food and fashion.
How has raising a child changed your approach to performing (or has it)?
It has enriched my performance. Getting older changes your body and subsequently, your voice. You notice your instrument gets richer; particularly for sopranos as you get to your 30th birthday. For bases and baritones, they reach their full vocal maturity at 40 years old. As far as acting goes, you now have more experiences to draw upon as you perform. There’s more texture and nuance to your stage work.
At the end of your life, how would you like to be remembered?
Wow…that’s a tough one. I’d have to say that I’d like to be remembered as a true artist for my singing. But more importantly, I’d like to be remembered for good human qualities. It’s more about me as a person and how I may have helped others in a positive way.