Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Jerry Hadley: An Operatic Green Light In Our Time Of Empire

"His death ends a career that in the 1980s seemed one of the most promising in American opera. ... His final Met appearance was as Gatsby in a 2002 revival of [John Harbison's] work."

Anthony Tommasini "Jerry Hadley, Operatic Tenor, Is Dead" New York Times July 18, 2007


In 1997, Mr Hadley starred in the world premiere of Myron Fink's American opera The Conquistador, at the San Diego Opera. He also shared in Grammy Awards for his recordings of Floyd's Susannah (1995) and Bernstein's Candide (1992) -- as well as a Grammy for the recording featuring his portrayal of Steva in Janacek's Jenufa (2004).


"Out, Out---"

The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened; day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy: counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside them in her apron
To tell them "Supper." At the word, the saw,
As if to prove saws knew what supper meant,
Leaped out of the boy's hand, or seemed to leap---
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
The boy's first outcry was a rueful laugh,
As he swung toward them holding up the hand,
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all---
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man's work, though a child at heart---
He saw all spoiled. "Don't let him cut my hand off---
The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!"
So. But the hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then--the watcher at his pulse took fright.
No one believed. They listed at his heart.
Little---less---nothing!---and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.

Robert Frost


With profound sympathy to the artist's two sons, sister, female companion, former wife, and friends and colleagues.

Photo credit: (c) Rudi Blaha and Associated Press. All rights reserved. With thanks.


Brookings Institution Transcript of Conference on Economic Anxiety and the American Dream: Is the Dream At Risk in the 21st Century?


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