Minnesota Monthly, February 1st, 2007
If he had never opened his mouth, the young man standing beside the piano in the Minnesota Opera Center one March morning in 2005 could have passed for a rock star. A member of Britain's too-cool Coldplay, perhaps, with his tousled hair and his dress shirt untucked and unbuttoned to dance-club level. But he did open his mouth, and out came a sound so rich and resonant and throbbing with vibrato that it could only be the voice of an opera singer.
Only, this was no ordinary opera. Most people's idea of opera involves enormous women singing about adultery with Teutonic gods, draped in outfits pr...
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