Comments on: Share Your Thoughts About Beverly Sills

By: Donald

Donald — Sun, 16 Sep 2007 20:39:11 +0000

I was an usher for San Francisco Opera back in the 70’s. Minutes before the start of a Sills recital, the head usher, Johnny Galindo, came running up to my post in the balcony to see if I could turn pages for the concert! I ran downstairs and right to her dressing room and then to the stage! It was an unbelievable thrill for a young music student! At the intermission, Miss Sills spent the entire time, with pianist Charles Wadsworth, asking questions about me–who I was, what I was studying, etc. It was amazing to me that someone so important and lovely could be so completely absorbed and focused on a conversation with the page turner! At the end of the program, Sills and Wadsworth headed for the stage to conclude the program with Miss Liebling’s Portuguese folk song that we all know; Mr. Wadsworth said that he didn’t use music for the encore, as they’d performed it so often. They both could tell that I was a little disappointed that our trio was turning into a duo, without me, and I believe Mr. Wadsworth then dug out a copy of the one-page song just so that they could bring the page turner out for the encore!!
What a lovely lady! What memories I cherish of her San Francisco performances! Her Manon was my first opera, and I was hooked. It was wonderful to see her as a co-host for the satelite broadcasts in Ohio.

Donald A. Hurd, Cincinnati, OH

By: LEE M

LEE M — Sat, 15 Sep 2007 19:59:08 +0000

Bravissima, Bubbles. I treasure the memory of your superb career, achieved through determination and talent. From one of the many “Beverly wannabees.”

Shalom, May you sing with the angels.

By: William

William — Thu, 09 Aug 2007 15:11:53 +0000

Beverly Sills was to opera as Leonard Bernstein was to classical music. I grew with both of them. I was fortunate to see Beverly Sills opening at the Met. I will never forget that evening. The applause was so great and long, that she had to turn her back to the audience, walk toward the back of the stage and you could see her (with binoculars) sobbing with joy. My wife and I shed a tear or two also. I made it a vow, to see as many performances she was in as possible. In those days, the operas were sold out every night, not just on weekends or Saturday afternoons. Each opera had GREAT performers and the prices were reasonable. But that was in the 1960’s,70’s and early 80’s. Those days seem to be gone forever. But the memories will last forever.

By: Robert

Robert — Wed, 08 Aug 2007 00:50:27 +0000

I had not planned on renewing my guild membership this year due to some financial problems. When I read of the death of Beverly Sills I decided that somehow I would find a way to afford this. I had a phone call last week from a young man asking for my continued support. I told him that I would renew my membership and in addition I wanted to make a special contribution to the program fund in memory of Beverly Sills. Though I did not know her personally I have always felt that when she appeared in her role as a spokesperson for the Met she was speaking to me personally. Her personality came right through my television screen and it was like she was sitting across the room talking to me. I will miss our chats.

By: June

June — Sat, 21 Jul 2007 19:54:06 +0000

I wrote this for my weekly column in the Sarasota (FL)Observer and would like to share it:

The first thing that impressed me about Beverly Sills was that she didn’t arrive with an entourage. She was the guest host on WQXR’s “Listening Room,” taking over for Robert Sherman when he went on vacation for a couple of weeks. I was playing Ed McMahon to her Johnny Carson and I expected her to sweep in with manager, publicist, assistant and who knows who else in tow.
But Beverly arrived alone, possibly riding the subway or bus to the New York Times building on west 43rd street. She was all smiles, happy to be there and asking for whatever help we could give her.
Then, there was the morning I got to work feeling dumpy, fat and ugly. I’d rushed and arrived in plain face (no make up), with some schemata that made me look like a moose and I was thanking my stars that this was radio and not TV. Then Beverly careened around the corner looking like a flaming-haired angel so I ducked my head thinking, If I don’t see her, she won’t see me. Right! With the brilliance of a trumpet, she blared, “Good morning, June,” and brought me out of my shell.
That’s when I knew I wanted to grow up to be Beverly Sills. She had so much enthusiasm and cheerfulness, she spread it around to others like nectar from a blossom. She beamed through all her personal tragedies, acknowledging that she wasn’t a happy woman but proud of being a cheerful one. You couldn’t be sad or depressed around Beverly. I wanted some of that nectar!
So, the next season, I did a series of one hour programs devoted to “Enthusiasm,” featuring the most animated people I knew: Beverly, Jacques d’Amboise, Norman Vincent Peale, Itzhak Perlman, and a host of others. I set their responses to music so it would fit the classical format of the station. But, I was really out to catch enthusiasm and spread it around to our listeners.
Losing Beverly was like losing a mother, sister and dear friend, rolled into one magnificent being. I remember her singing here in Sarasota and taking the time after her concert to graciously hug me back stage. I remember running into her at the Sarasota airport a few years later and sharing thoughts on weight, which weighed heavily on both of us.
Through the tears and memories, I’ve spoken with many of the people she’d influenced and the great underlying emotion was a deep sadness, whether they were her best friends, colleagues or just knew her from her appearances.
Renate Koblé, a friend from New York who’d been Beverly’s assistant when she was General Manager of the New York City Opera, remembered Beverly’s 55th birthday. “When someone asked her how she was that morning, she told them, ‘I’m 55, fat and fatigued.’” Then she gave that wonderful, irreplaceable laugh of hers.
Another friend who didn’t know Beverly personally but was as torn up as the rest of us, saw the spectacular PBS documentary on TV and, through tears said, “I almost forgot that she could sing.” Think about it. Sills quit her singing career in 1980 at the age of 51, never looked back and proceeded to use all the skills and knowledge she had as a performer in her new roles in the management of the New York City Opera, Metropolitan Opera, Lincoln Center and a variety of charities.
This larger-than-life singer took her ability to put over a role, an aria, a song, and turned it into a penchant for fundraising that turned to gold.
Sir James Galway, in an email from his home in Switzerland, wrote, “I had the pleasure to play on her very first UK recording and was so impressed. I got to know her personally and thought she was not only a great singer but a great lady, too. I am sure she will be badly missed.”
You said it, Jimmy!
Sherrill Milnes, in a phone conversation a couple of days after her death, told me, “Some people are good at one thing, even great at it. Beverly was great at all things. Before the three tenors were making opera more accessible, Beverly was doing it all by herself.”
Does someone who’s touched so many lives and brought joy and inspiration to so many, really die? Her recordings live on. But the real legacy of this Lady is her generosity of spirit and zest for life. Her energy and enthusiasm were contagious. The next time you smile, think of her.

(June LeBell)

By: Paula

Paula — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 20:16:55 +0000

Beverly Sills had class. When she restarted her career in the 70’s after taking time off for motherhood, she contracted to sing Violetta in “La Traviata” with the Fort Worth Opera, a few years down the road. Her career took off rapidly, and soon she could pick and choose whichever role she wanted at any of the world’s top houses — but she honored her commitment, sang in Fort Worth anyway, and gave a smashing performance. I was fortunate to hear her several times, and every performance was a revelation.

By: James

James — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 16:17:03 +0000

I want to share a very special story about Beverly Sills. While I was in college I worked part time as an assistant to Bill a man who was confined to a litter due to crippling arthritis. We were attending a concert at the Philadelphia Robin Hood Dell and Bill said that Beverly would probably come out to see him which I found hard to believe but indeed she did come out to see her “good friend in the cot”. Turns out that Bill and Beverly had a long standing friendship which included her arranging for him to come to dress rehearsals at the Academy of Music at which she came and sat with him for an extended chat. She was an extraordinary person and I will always remember her extreme generosity.

By: Anonymous

Anonymous — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 15:03:40 +0000

Beverly Sills was as good as it gets as a person and a singer. Never dull, always happy, persivering, hard-working and one amazingly talented singer. She was the best person an aspiring singer could ask for as a role model and will continue to be.

By: Matthew

Matthew — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 02:58:15 +0000

My first operas Sills’s recordings of Violetta, Gilda, and Manon. She was my first step into this great world of the opera and I will never forget her. Brava! She lives forever in all of us and those we love.

May she rest in peace.

By: Jerry

Jerry — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 21:47:26 +0000

I was fortunate to be a super in “Lucia” in the mid-70s in Memphis in which the star was Beverly Sills. To be on the stage with her singing was one of the nicest moments in my life. I had previously thought of opera as only for those in high society, but she helped make it for me and millions in America approachable and loved. More importantly, she was always so very nice and down-to-earth with everyone she met — a model of beauty in all senses of the word. Jerry Travis, Alameda, CA