Altered Faces


When bass-baritone Edward Russell White, Jr. took his own life just three days after Thanksgiving, the news shocked the opera world, and even penetrated briefly into the consciousness of the general public. The Internet buzzed; reports were copied to opera bulletin boards and lists; e-mails circled the globe; and an outpouring of response ranging from shock to empathy immediately filled Classical Singer’s online forum.

Ed’s suicide has proven to be a catalyst for many singers. “I understand why Ed didn’t let anyone see how sick he was,” wrote an anonymous respondent to the Classical Singer website poll on mental health. “It is not okay to have a mental illness in our field. You have to hide it all. To be hired, you already have to be fit and trim, gorgeous, have a gorgeous voice, be the right height, have perfect clothes, nails, manners, acting, languages, wit, charm, plus be a wonderful businessman, PR person, etc. No one knows how I suffer with depression and they never will. Why? Singing is what makes me better and if anyone finds out I have this illness, they will take from me the one medication that works.”

This singer is not alone in the fear of being labeled unstable and unemployable–few people are willing to openly discuss their mental health problems. The burden of living with a mental illness is compounded by constantly having to hide it. But because this tragedy happened to one of our own, a dialogue has opened between singers, mental health professionals, managers, and opera companies.

Suicide leaves its survivors struggling, too–asking questions that have no answers, and attempting to deal with grief, anger, guilt, regrets, and a host of other emotions. Prior to his death, few people realized that Ed had been in difficulty. I asked David Bamberger, General Director of Cleveland Opera, what they might do differently to help prepare for another such situation. But other than adding the name of a mental health professional to the list of local doctors routinely provided to cast members, there was nothing. Bamberger seemed confident that Cleveland Opera is already doing its part.

“Our basic attitude has always been that we’re going to create the kind of place where people can feel at one artistically and personally, and cared about. We may not make them rich or famous, but people like to come back here because their concerns are dealt with.” Bamberger is proud of the treatment he and his staff give artists. “I want singers to feel spoiled when they come to Cleveland. As Birgit Nilsson said: ‘…When the birds are unhappy they do not sing.’”

But what if the “birds” are unhappy for reasons beyond the company’s control? “It takes an article of faith on their parts to know that we’re going to be helpful,” admits Bamberger. “In the ideal world, no one ever comes to Cleveland without being in the best psychological, physical, and spiritual health. There’s no recipe here, but if there’s a foreseeable problem that we can work out, it’s better to do that, and the sooner we know about it, the better. It’s a mutual interest for the singer to give the best possible performance.”

And most singers, whatever their personal difficulties, do manage to give good performances. “I think that the people who can’t handle it (the career) tend not to stay in the business very long,” Bamberger said, noting that there are plenty of other high-stress professions. “I don’t want to sound flippant, but I think we have to put the stress of the opera field in perspective.”

One thing that might help, he adds, is better preparation for singers. “I think our singers are fairly well-prepared for failure. They know how many sopranos there are. But we do a fairly bad job of preparing singers for success. An American singer has to make a tradeoff between anything that the rest of the world would consider normal family life, and their career. Whatever you mean by ‘normal,’ this ain’t it. I don’t think we encourage people to think about that very much. We need to mentally prepare our young people. Their own definition of success might help that self-selection process.” There is, for Bamberger, a bottom line. “The only reason to go into the professional (singing) world,” he concludes, “is because you have to.”

“Depression for an artists is a very serious issue,” says John Claassen, of Sheldon Soffer Management. “Nobody wants to deal with someone else’s dysfunctions. That’s why a lot of artists hide it. They’re afraid they won’t be hired.”

Claassen also believes that many artist are managing to function despite mental illnesses, or the pressures that can lead to them. “I think that more artists than anyone realizes are borderline manic-depressives. People sense it in an audition. The joy leaves the work. The negativity takes over the positive creative aspects that have to be there for people to relate to you as an artist.” But, he acknowledges, “Some singers are very resourceful, and can keep themselves going.”

What about the singers who, despite their resources, can’t keep themselves going? I asked Claassen what he, as a manager, could do to help his singers. “I think it’s my responsibility to make them aware of how other people could be perceiving them. And I tell people if I think they need to find themselves some help, if they’ve hit a stone wall and can’t move forward. Singers are just so vulnerable. Having been a performer, I understand a lot of the emotions involved, and I think that helps.”

It’s not easy to help, Claassen acknowledges. “A person has to have the courage to communicate what you see as danger signs. There’s always a lot of resistance, and you have to phrase things differently for different people. What makes it so insidious is that sometimes it’s very hard to see the telltale signs. I get worried when people aren’t accessible–when they aren’t keeping in touch with friends, or going out. Retreating into a private world. For a singer, that’s very dangerous.” Like David Bamberger, Claassen believes that better education could help eliminate some of the difficulties that can start the downward spiral. “Part of the problem is that a lot of singers don’t know what they can do for themselves to move out of a slump, and there will inevitably be slumps. Singers and colleagues are great resources. Keep in touch with people for opportunities, and leads for work. All it takes to stir something up is keeping in touch–simply say, ‘I’ll keep you abreast of what I’m doing.’”

What can singers do to help each other? Paying attention to others can be a good start. Dr. Kenneth Berc, a Harvard-trained psychiatrist, tells the story of a colleague, a concentration camp survivor, who received a late-night phone call from a suicidal stranger. They talked for hours, and the doctor asked the distraught woman to visit him the next day. He wasn’t sure she wouldn’t kill herself, but she appeared at the appointment. When he asked her what stopped her from taking her life, she told him, “You listened to me. You took me seriously.”

The moral? “It’s important to acknowledge other people’s distress,” says Berc. “Take their pain seriously. Don’t brush it off.”

It may be hard to reach colleagues. Singers often feel that they can’t reveal the slightest weakness, lest they ruin their chances of future work. They aren’t the only ones with these fears. “I went to Harvard Medical School, and if anyone showed a weakness, they slipped a notch in everyone’s estimation,” admits Berc. “So many students were killing themselves that they finally had to interview every incoming freshman to screen for potential suicides.” It seems unlikely that opera companies will instigate similar testing, so singers are left to fend for themselves. But how can you combat an illness if you feel you can’t tell anyone you’re sick?

The first step may be by accepting your illness and its consequences, and putting it in perspective. “A person who’s been depressed is afraid that no one will hire them (if their illness is discovered). But you have to say, what is really going to go wrong?” Berc says. “There are people with significant psychological problems who get new commissions. Because they’re good, they work anyway.”

If you think you might be in trouble, it’s important to communicate with somebody. “The first thing the person should do is talk to their family doctor, or another outside source,” says Berc. A physician may be able to eliminate physical ailments as the source of the difficulty, and evaluate whether mental health treatment should be considered. “Friends are the next step. People should reach out to their friends, and ask them if they think they have a problem. Humans have a way of knowing, and if friends are honest they may even tell the truth. On the other hand, the (distressed) person may be reassured that he isn’t abnormal.”

It can also help to know you’re not alone. “Our culture grieves in groups. That helps people,” says Berc. “Classical Singer is doing that, providing a forum, taking people seriously. The best we can do is learn how we can live our lives better, based on that person’s sacrifice. How can we make our lives better, and learn from it? It’s a warning bell for all of us.”

Lina C. Cotman

Lina C. Cotman is an associate editor for Classical Singer. She lives and works in New York City.