We spend a lot of time here -- way too much time -- making fun of, or hailing, the work of professional opera singers: the great and the bad ones -- or the once-good ones, there's barely any difference between them and the plainly bad who never were good as far as audiences are concerned -- and the ones who throw tantrums, the ones who risk blowing their voice up due to bad management and bad schedules and the ones who try to hide -- clumsily, at best -- their declining vocal power and physical allure; the oldskool pros and and the rising young singers who study hard and audition and hope for the best.
But today, we like to be reminded of the fact that the root of all this crazy business of opera -- the shaky contracts and sharkey lawyers and the constant hustling for work and the internecine wars and sexual harassment and the incompetent GMs and the ruthless agents and the insane directors, etc etc etc -- this crazy business exists because at the root there's people's infinite passion for the music, the love of the opera.
And love of the opera can lead you to a frozen Michigan park in the middle of the winter, singing for the ducks and the squirrells because your heart is full of music. Just like John Crispo, 80, the Opera Man of Bay City State Park:
While he sings, Crispo, a tenor, occasionally pulls out a handkerchief to blot the corners of his mouth and dab the temples of his forehead.
He says he doesn't know if he's good or bad, but said he can hit a high C, a benchmark for tenors.
''My voice has always been wide and I can sometimes sing very pretty, too,'' he said.
Mike Evanoff, supervisor at the Bay City State Recreation Area, says he can't comment on Crispo's talent, but is happy to have him as a frequent visitor.
''Well, I'm tone deaf. So, I wouldn't know,'' Evanoff said. ''But he enjoys singing and I think that's great.''
We have the honor to hereby officially declare Signor John Crispo as OperaChic Tenor Of The Day.