Singing has been a major part of my life since I was very young. My mother, a French immigrant and Holocaust survivor, fondly played the LP’s of Edith Piaf and Maurice Chevalier in our small South Bronx apartment. I was enthralled by Chevalier’s voice and fell in love with Piaf’s magical songs. My mother would dance around the living room, holding me in her arms, both of us singing at the top of our lungs.

When I was ten-years-old, I made my debut as a soprano soloist in my temple choir. I was thrilled when members of the audience hugged me and pinched my cheeks saying, “Such a nice young man with such a beautiful voice!” I believe these kudos encouraged me to seek further opportunities to sing for people, and I joined many choruses and participated in every school musical. I taught myself guitar chords, and once in high school, I started a garage band which became the springboard for my interest in songwriting.

After graduation, with guitar in hand, I optimistically ventured out to sing in the Village’s coffee houses and participated in the folk scene of the early 70’s, performing in Central Park and Washington Square. I opened for acts like Biff Rose, Buzzy Linhart and Phil Ochs at Folk City and Kenny’s Castaways and played wherever there was an open mic and an empty stool.

By the time I hit my mid-20’s, the allure of the Bohemian life had worn thin, and I pursued a more stable lifestyle. I found my calling teaching high school English, and as I matured professionally and personally, my musical tastes expanded. While I was still fond of musical heroes like Dylan and The Beatles, I sought music that would inspire me in a different way. I discovered jazz from the 40’s and 50’s and added Bud Powell and the innovative Thelonius Monk to my musical interests.

However, after a while, I began to search for other music that would challenge my imagination, and that came when I visited the Metropolitan Opera. When I saw my first opera, Samson and Delilah, I was not necessarily transfixed. In fact, I almost hated it. However, one evening shortly after, when I was correcting student papers, I heard something on the radio that overwhelmed my emotions. It was the last act of Das Rheingold by Richard Wagner. Ironically, I had just seen this opera the week before and had come away puzzled. On hearing it this second time, I was hooked and immediately went to Tower Records to purchase the entire Ring Cycle. I loved it so much, I practically memorized it.

Listening to opera obsessively revived my passion for singing, and I enrolled in lessons at The Brooklyn Conservatory where I studied with the wonderful mezzo-soprano Emily Howard. Emily groomed me for my first recital which I recall approaching as if I were walking to the guillotine. To my surprise, when I opened my mouth, a big bellowing voice came out, and the audience applauded approvingly. I was back to looking for Jewish grandmothers to pinch my cheeks! Thanks to the hard work of music teachers like Emily, Elizabeth Cole, Bernardo Villalobos, Gregory Mercer, Lydia Clarke, and Ephraim Herrera, I’ve developed the voice I dreamed of having when I was a child, and it is my greatest pleasure to share my love of music with audiences everywhere.