When Vinson Cole sings, audiences and UW students listen

The afternoon sun filters through the windows of Vinson Cole's Capitol Hill apartment, turning the walls to gold and illuminating the thick pile of musical scores that cover every available surface of his grand piano. It's one of those early September days so beloved of University of Washington personnel, with their late-September start of the academic calendar: not really summer, but not yet time to go back to school.

It's Cole's vacation, after spending the summer teaching "more than full time" at the highly regarded Aspen Music Festival, as well as singing a leading role in a production of "Der Freischütz" at Chicago's Ravinia Festival. He is looking forward to the time off before he returns to teaching at the UW. But the phone is ringing, persistently and often, in his study.

Finally, apologetically, Cole trots off to pick up.

"It's the Detroit Symphony," he reports, looking a little rueful. Their tenor soloist got sick and canceled a short time before the orchestra's season-opener, a gala performance of the Verdi Requiem. Few events on an orchestra's calendar are more important than the opening concert, and this one carried the additional weight of a Sept. 11 commemoration.

"They really want me to come, but I haven't given them an answer yet. It's my vacation! I've been looking forward to it all summer."

Well-traveled performer

Cole temporarily shelves the issue of Detroit and gives his full attention to the interview. He has always had the ability to focus his energy and his attention, most of the time on the opera and concert audiences who have brought him back again and again to the world's major stages. Over the years there have been a 1997 season-opener at Milan's La Scala, a Chicago Lyric Opera debut in the title role of Mozart's "Idomeneo" in 1998, and a debut with the Royal Opera, Covent Garden, in 1999 as Tito in Mozart's "La Clemenza di Tito." He's also a regular at such companies as the Metropolitan Opera, San Francisco Opera, Opera National de Paris and Paris Opéra-Bastille, and the Berlin, Vienna, Bavarian and Hamburg State Operas.

Cole is in such demand at Seattle Opera, ever since his 1988 debut in "Orpheus and Eurydice," that he decided to move here nine years ago. Recent Seattle Opera roles include Gerald in Delibes' "Lakmé," Cavaradossi in Puccini's "Tosca" and Gustavus in Verdi's "Un Ballo in Maschera."

Last year, Cole took a big step in another direction: He joined the University of Washington voice faculty, where his official title is senior artist in residence. You'd think, after all his years at the top, that he is ready to dispense wisdom to his students like an operatic oracle.

"Well, I am still learning, too," laughs Cole, who points out that he has decided to sing several works he's never done before in a Thursday faculty recital.

"Several of the songs are new to me, including some by Haydn and some English ones. And I am working hard on the Catalan songs. I have a diction coach helping me get it right; Catalan is very different from Spanish.

Embraces learning process

"You know, as a singer you never really stop learning. I'm always finding new music, new ideas, that I never encountered before."

The recital also will include songs of Strauss and Schumann, as well as two short cantatas of Bellini, a set of French songs, and selections from the musical theater.

"I want to include some Sondheim songs," he says, "but I'm still deciding. And there may be a small group of spirituals."

Cole has a long history with spirituals, growing up in Kansas City, Mo., in a family that loved to sing. His talent was obvious even as a little boy, and he sang boy soprano roles until his voice shifted slightly downward in adolescence. Even now, you can still hear the boy soprano in that voice, which floats aloft with an unforced ease that is Cole's trademark.

He credits teacher Margaret Harshaw at the Curtis Institute for giving him the technique to make the most of his natural ability. But his parents initially weren't thrilled about his musical studies. They wanted him to get an education degree "to fall back on," in case the singing career didn't work out. It's a bit ironic that after more than 25 years at the top of his profession, Cole now is teaching as well.

"I just finished my fourth summer at Aspen," he says, "and it's a lot of work. They asked the voice faculty to work with the opera department, and also with a group of 10 singers who did recitals every week. But it's very exciting to see the young singers come along. I have a soprano (at Aspen) who's really ready for an apprentice program now."

Thus far, Cole hasn't had to do what every teacher dreads — "set somebody down and tell them, 'This isn't going to happen for you.' I don't want to destroy their belief and their hope, as long as there is the possibility of a future in singing for them.

It takes more than a voice

"You hear a voice, and the sound quality is there — the possibility is there. But there is much, much more to making a life in singing. They have to want it the most, more than anything else, and they have to be ready to work for it. Otherwise, all the talent in the world won't help them."

The UW School of Music is clearly bolstered by Cole's presence. "We are honored to have Vinson Cole as a colleague here," says Robin McCabe, the school's director. "His luminous career as an artist 'informs' and enriches his teaching, and his vibrant good will enlivens our corridors."

Does Cole enjoy teaching at the UW?

His response is carefully phrased.

"The actual teaching in the studio I enjoy very much," he says. He's too tactful to go further, but it is not hard to conclude that other aspects of academia (the meetings, the e-mails, the forms to fill out, the inevitable controversies that always seem to swirl in faculty circles) may not be as much fun.

"I know what I'm good at, and I think I can help people. I have no ego when it comes to teaching: I know what I have to offer, but whether it works is up to the person and the mind, not just the voice.

"Students aren't like cookies, where you bake each one at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. One might need 150 degrees. Plus, the voice is so hidden, and what you do to change a sound is all imagery — the singer envisions the voice doing this or that. And there's language coaching, and diction training, and all the things relating to interpretation. It's brain-draining. At the end of the day, I can't do anything else."

Cole also offers career advice and a lot of philosophy to his students.

"I'm a patient person," he explains; "I don't fly off the handle. I understand what people go through. To make a career work is so hard and so rewarding, you want to do it right from the beginning and not be in a hurry."

Added challenges

There are still a few extra barriers to cross if you're a singer of color, especially a tenor (who is almost invariably the romantic lead in opera). Like singer Shirley Verrett, who was recently in Seattle to autograph her new autobiography, Cole is concerned that there aren't enough African-American singers — especially males — on today's stages.

"There was a time when there was an abundance of very visible black talent," he says, thinking of the days when Verrett, Grace Bumbry, Leontyne Price, Martina Arroyo, Roberta Alexander, Marvis Martin, Simon Estes, Kathleen Battle, Harolyn Blackwell and several others were all stars. Some of them are still going strong, but neither Verrett nor Cole sees a large peer group waiting in the wings.

"I've seen a little reversal, as far as the number of African-Americans in major houses," Cole says. "And I don't really know why. I do know that it takes a great deal out of you, making your way in this profession (as a singer of color). You have to have an incredible desire to do it, and not be swayed by other possibilities (of the popular-music world). Finally, there's the financial part; you have to study and coach, a costly business with no assurance that you'll have a career.

"I don't consider myself a racially minded person. I don't think I encounter prejudice in audiences. I was in Houston this year for 'Lucia di Lammermoor,' and it was just an audience — a very appreciative audience."

Audiences do love Cole. So do presenters: the phone is ringing again, with fresh pleas from Detroit.

"I'm going to say yes," Cole says. "I don't really want to go to Detroit right now, but they really need me.

"And I know it's the right thing to do."

Melinda Bargreen: mbargreen@seattletimes.com