How did you get involved?
A friend brought me to a concert—I think Tom Wikman was conducting Bach cantatas at the time. Then I had an impromptu audition at my friend’s voice lesson, and started working privately with Tom right away. I began singing in the chorus the very next season.
You’re also Music of the Baroque’s production manager.
MOB used to perform at St. Paul and the Redeemer in Hyde Park, right next to Kenwood Academy. From a production standpoint, things were different in those days—I don’t think we even had stand lights. When we began performing Bach’s Passions we needed a portative organ, which wasn’t the easiest thing to transport. The guy we borrowed it from had to take all the pipes out, transport it to the church with a moving van, reinstall all the pipes—and do it all over again to take it home. After doing that once or twice, he had had enough, so I took over. Once we started performing all over the city, I had much more to do.
Any particularly memorable experiences?
Once we did three performances of the Messiah in three days—in three different locations. It was my first logistical nightmare, but it was a lot of fun. My job was also really different in the days before email. I spent a lot of time running around: going back and forth to the printer, taking things to our copyist—you name it, I did it. My work with MOB changed my life, actually. As a young artist, it gave me stability that many of my contemporaries didn’t have. And it enabled me to move out of my parents’ house and get my own apartment—a long time ago, of course.
Music of the Baroque has changed your life in other ways, too.
I met my wife, Patty Mueller, in the MOB chorus. Our daughter Elizabeth is five, and just started kindergarten at the Walt Disney Magnet School on Marine Drive. My career also evolved in a certain direction because of MOB. Living on the road as a singer can lose its glamour rather quickly, and my job made it possible for me to stay in Chicago close to family and friends. And let’s face it—I’m not tall, and I don’t have the kind of jaw line that makes people immediately think of me as a leading man. I’ve had much more success with character and comic roles at MOB and companies like Chicago Opera Theater, Light Opera Works, Chamber Opera of Chicago, Grant Park Music Festival, and Lyric Opera.
What do you do when you’re not working for MOB?
Golf is a real passion of mine. I built a practice area on the empty lot next to my house complete with a putting green, sand trap, chipping area—even a ball washer. By sheer coincidence, a buddy of mine became the state sales rep for a company that sells golf course accessories made from recycled materials—things like flags and other things they use on the course—and he asked me to work with him. The job intersects with my music career quite a bit, believe it or not. I just sang at the wedding of one of my clients in Sycamore, and another customer showed up at last year’s Brass and Choral concert at Techny and was surprised to see me singing and playing the finger cymbals.
You’re a great finger cymbal player, by the way.
Thanks—I used to play percussion in high school, and played professionally for a year or so before I became a singer.
It’s fitting that you work with MOB—in the baroque period, musicians earned a living by being involved in many different aspects of music-making. Your career really epitomizes that.
I feel really fortunate that my life has turned out the way it has. Things have always just fallen into place for me. Years ago, I lost my cat—and one of the guys I met while looking for her owned a cat that had just become pregnant. He called me a few months later to see if I wanted one of the kittens. Patty [now my wife] had just gotten divorced and wanted a kitten as well, and she ended up adopting two of them. We had no way of knowing that one day we’d have our own family, and the three brother cats would be reunited. A lot of my life has been like that—without even trying, it’s just come together perfectly. I’m lucky.