“I didn’t know anybody who had a career in music,” says Sasha Cooke. “It seemed super human.” Cooke has me on speaker phone while she drives, her toddler secure in a car seat in the back. She is coming off a run of Dominick Argento’s The Aspern Papers at Dallas Opera with co-stars Susan Graham and Nathan Gunn, and has just enough time to go house hunting near Houston before she heads to San Francisco for Beethoven’s Missa solemnis with Michael Tilson Thomas. But Cooke wouldn’t call herself super human.
“Throughout all of my training, I always worried that I would show up and be the least prepared of the bunch,” she says. It has worked out quite the opposite. From landing the lead in Werther as an undergraduate to her debut with the San Francisco Opera, Sasha Cooke leads a career that can only be called charmed.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise. The sapphire-eyed beauty sports a particularly seductive mezzo, which has been hailed as “firm, fruity” and “lustrous and evocative.” A rising star on the concert circuit, Cooke also enjoyed widespread praise for her compelling portrayal of Kitty Oppenheimer in the premiere of John Adam’s Doctor Atomic at the Metropolitan Opera. Her reputation for solid musicianship landed her the title role in the premiere of Mark Adamo’s The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, currently underway at San Francisco Opera. But for the thoughtful Texas native who once considered a career in electrical engineering, life is not all about stardom.
Cooke has travelled along the venerable path of the nation’s foremost professional development institutions—Juilliard, the Met’s Lindemann program, Young Concert Artists—and she has emerged with a career that spans opera and concert music. “I have tfelt very lucky to perform a lot of symphonic and chamber music,” she says. “In hindsight I believe the priorities for this part of the business are different. It’s interesting to discover how and where one fits into this career and I believe it’s vital to be open to that.”
Growing up in College Station, Cooke enjoyed an art-rich childhood, attending museums, the symphony, and Houston Grand Opera from a young age. (She just made her debut with that company, singing Magnolia in Show Boat.) Her parents might not have been musical themselves, but her dad “has a huge record collection,” and Cooke remembers falling asleep to classical music playing downstairs.
Cooke started piano at age four, a skill that she finds immensely helpful to her musicianship and learning new pieces. She also studied viola as a child, which no doubt heightened her ear for music’s inner harmonies. She started singing lessons in group classes around age 16, and describes herself as a reserved chorister who sang second alto. A teacher strongly encouraged her to apply to college as a voice major, but Cooke assumed she would eventually switch to engineering. “I always liked math,” she says.
Before Cooke arrived at Rice University as an undergraduate, “I had no sense of where I fit in or how I measured up amongst the rest,” she says. “I was wrestling with my sound and how I was not like the other girls.” Like many a young singer before her, she had been thrilled by the Queen of the Night arias and wished she could be a soprano, despite her rich, dark tone. “Sasha, it’s good to be different,” said her teacher at Rice, Kathleen Kaun. And the advice had an impact. “At the time I just wanted to sound like everybody else, so it was a revelation to embrace being different,” Cooke says.
With Kaun, “lessons [were] not just about singing, but the composer, poetry, and music—not just technique.” From her lessons Cooke learned to never work on technique in isolation. “It always related to the music I was studying, in the context of what the composer wanted,” she says.
Ultimately, being a mezzo also suited her sensibility. “Mezzos have it easier,” she says. “There are fewer high wire acts” and technical hurdles to nail. The Fach encourages a broader color palette in the middle range.”
As an undergraduate, Cooke enjoyed chamber music and instrumental works, attending every orchestra and string quartet concert she could. This affinity for repertoire beyond opera has manifested itself in her musical choices in her career, as well as her strengths as a performer. Cooke released an album on Yarlung Records last year of solo works with orchestra that demonstrate her range, including Mahler’s Rückert-Lieder and Chausson’s song cycle Poème de l’amour et de la mer. Yehuda Gilad—the conductor of the Colburn Orchestra on the recording, which is entitled If You Love for Beauty—told her that she is “more of an instrumentalist than singer.” He meant it as highest praise. “You are like a clarinet,” he told her, “in tune to rhythm, pitch, and a variety of color.” Cooke agrees. “For me, it’s more about the poetry and the connection to music.”
In college, Cooke’s strong musicianship earned her a reputation as a quick study and for not being “vocally precious,” and she began to premiere new works written by fellow students. Contemporary music even became her favorite genre, she says. “I love music that takes longer to learn and presents more challenges.” Cooke’s willingness to tackle challenging pieces lay the groundwork for her professional life, culminating in the call from the Met informing her that John Adams had personally requested her to sing the role of Kitty Oppenheimer in Doctor Atomic.
A turning point came during her studies when she attended the Music Academy of the West after her freshman year. As the youngest singer in attendance, Cooke watched and studied how graduate and preprofessional singers worked, interacted, corrected, and improved. Marilyn Horne and Warren Jones were particular sources of inspiration—“the sessions with them blew my mind”—and the program spurred her to step up her game. “Suddenly, my eye was on the goal,” she says. Inspired by the dedication of her colleagues, she immersed herself in practice, preparation, poetry, and research. In addition, the experience of being far away from family for the first time gave Cooke a newfound sense of independence, of “being in charge of myself and my work and time devoted to music.”
Another formative experience in college came when Cooke was cast as Charlotte in Werther at the age of 21. Like the Music Academy of the West, this was another opportunity that forced Cooke to work harder than ever and push her abilities to the next level. “It is interesting how when you are presented with a challenge, you have to grow,” she says, an experience that Cooke would relive with Doctor Atomic and other career milestones. “I am very grateful to Rice,” she says, praising the many performing opportunities afforded the small class of singers, including the chance to work side by side with graduate students, observing their attention to detail and seeing fine performers in action.
Cooke’s accomplishments as an undergraduate were punctuated by attendance at some of the country’s most esteemed Young Artist Programs: the Aspen Music Festival, the Wolf Trap Foundation, and Central City Opera’s Young Artist Training Program. She honed her skills in art song at the Ravinia Festival’s Steans Music Institute and as a soloist and chamber musician at the Marlboro Music Festival. Even with these votes of confidence, Cooke is frequently surprised by her success. “I almost drove over my lawn when I got Juilliard’s acceptance package,” she says.
At Juilliard she performed the role of The Composer in Strauss’ Ariadne auf Naxos, and considered herself “spoiled with an immense variety of coaches who can help you with all kinds of things.” Cooke worked with faculty who would become close mentors, including Stephen Smith, who mentions her in his book The Naked Voice (“I had so many breakthroughs because of him”) and director Eve Shapiro (“a very dear friend who is a grounded source of wisdom”). Cooke also came away from the program with her husband, baritone Kelly Markgraf. Shapiro was the officiant at their wedding.
Cooke began singing professionally while still at Juilliard, and upon graduation she was accepted into both the Met Opera’s Lindemann Young Artist Development Program and Young Concert Artists. It was at the Met program that Cooke discovered she was a “recital girl” and realized how she was different from her colleagues. After two Carnegie Hall recitals with Lindemann artists, faculty members compared Cooke to Janet Baker and Lorraine Hunt Lieberson. “When [James Levine’s assistant] Ken Noda puts your name in the same sentence as great singers, then you feel encouraged,” she says.
Young Concert Artists further served as a type of Young Artist Program, again offering Cooke the opportunity to rise to a challenge. She performed 20 recitals throughout the United States during one year, in a major push that is meant as a stepping stone to management. Cooke had been working informally with IMG Artists while still in the Met program, and the full transition to their roster happened organically.
Cooke found her experiences in Young Artist Programs not only helpful for connecting her with the next professional level, but also for “giving me the gift of confidence, the gift of time to explore different things, and the validation of a company saying, ‘We believe in you,’” she says. “They affiliate themselves with you and put their name next to yours.” Furthermore, “you’re not quite ready when you come out of school,” she says, and the experience of constant performing during a Young Artist Program “gives you more time to cook.”
Recitals and concerts continue to be an important part of Cooke’s career. She is often surprised to hear from other singers that recitals are their least favorite way to perform, but Cooke enjoys the medium. “Audience is on the journey with you, and you get to steer the way,” she says. While she can see why some singers don’t like the challenge of such exposure, alone on the concert stage, Cooke gravitates to the poetry and thoughtful works of the orchestral and chamber repertoire.
Furthermore, Cooke credits her immersion in recital and symphonic music with her technical development. “For a lot of singers training for operas, technique is the goal,” she says. “For me, I was immediately performing from the beginning, I wasn’t working on craft alone, it was always as a means to a performance.” She feels her early experiences equipped her with what it takes to be a symphonic singer.
A self-proclaimed Francophile, she especially enjoys French chansons in recital, and the orchestral song cycle Les nuits d’ete by Berlioz offered her another career highlight. After one performance of the work with the San Francisco Symphony, conductor Michael Tilson Thomas got down on his knee and kissed the hem of her dress. “MTT is one of the people (more specifically, conductors) whom I consider a great mentor and who has sculpted me as an artist and helped me fly.”
This was particularly true during their work together on the Berlioz. “Michael had a way of completely showing his support and faith in me,” she says. “He simply encouraged me to be my best. I think the greatest conductors share this trait.” During rehearsal for a very quiet passage, he told her, “Sasha trust your ability to bring us to you. You can savor this piano moment and we will come to you.’ It gave her the confidence to own her strengths and lead the ensemble with her phrasing.
Cooke’s richly dark timbre is well suited to the music of Mahler, whose music she feels a deep personal and vocal connection to. She feels fortunate to have performed Das Lied von der Erde many times (including with the Columbus Symphony, Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, the Hong Kong Philharmonic, and the Spoleto Festival), along with Des Knaben Wunderhorn, Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, Rückert-Lieder, and the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 8th symphonies. “At Juilliard I had to write an 80-page paper and I chose the Rückert-Lieder as my focus. In my wildest dreams I never would’ve imagined that in my career I would get to perform so much Mahler,” she says.
As much as Cooke enjoys the music she performs, life on the road can be a bit less satisfying. “It’s a very lonely life,” she says, shattering any myth of the glamorous world of the singer. Travelling internationally for singing does not mean seeing the sights, but interminable hours in airports, silent hotel rooms, and isolation from family and friends. “You don’t take a course in living in a hotel,” she says. [During orchestra concerts] “your back is to 100 musicians, you’re looking at an audience of 3,000 (none of whom you will see again), you leave the stage, maybe a couple of people will talk to you—but they are only responding to the guise of your singing life, not who you really are,” she describes.
But Cooke takes the greatest pleasure in her music and the close relationships she develops with colleagues. Above all, she internalizes a sense of gratitude for every experience and focuses on projecting grateful energy. “Everyone picks up on gratitude,” she says. “When someone has joy and appreciation of the moment in them, people are drawn to it.”
Nonetheless, Cooke is very much aware of the qualities that can make the profession difficult and, for some singers, lead to problems with infidelity, mental health issues, and even addiction. In most other careers, people can take comfort in their routines, patterns, and familiar habits. But frequent travel means different cities, different rooms, and a constant search for what are the basics for others: finding food, dry cleaning, and just trying to “get certain things done before an 8 p.m. show.”
But Cooke even finds ways to enjoy the drawbacks. “Being out of one’s comfort zone, you grow,” she explains. “Not all of us have the luxury of devoted alone time—and this career is that. You will be a comfort to yourself. I love the self-reflection that comes with this job.” In between the logistics, “practicing is one of my greatest joys,” she says. When she can, Cooke takes pleasure in yoga, running, cycling, cooking healthy food, visiting museums (“it’s like a day at the spa”), and finding ways to satisfy her “obsession with coffee.” She also relies on friends and family who understand that their relationship will largely take place on the phone.
Cooke takes pains to make room in her life for important things. She will adjust her schedule or drive five hours to see friends. Her New Year’s resolution was to book time for resting, learning music, and seeing family. “If you don’t make it a priority, it can never happen,” she says, noting that singers often work on holidays and weekends, when most people have breaks. “It takes guts to make the space in your career to take care of yourself,” she says. A career “cannot define your existence, because if it does it will let you down. It cannot be everything.”
One source of happiness on the road in recent years has been the addition of her two-year-old daughter Evelyn, who goes by Evi (she is named for Cooke’s mentor Eve Shapiro). Cooke’s husband frequently accompanies them, when his own performance schedule permits. Because Cooke’s career has been focused on concert singing, she has been able to spend more time with her daughter than singers who are away for long opera productions.
Evi has been traveling with her mom since she was four weeks old and has already been to eight countries. Cooke counts herself lucky to have such an easy baby who enjoys travel and she takes part in family activities when she can, though always with a slightly different experience than typical families. At a meeting for moms in Dallas, one mother said to Cooke “Are we going to see you again next week?” little knowing that she would be off at the next gig.
While it can be challenging to find babysitters and even secure the basics for the baby—such as quiet places to nap—Cooke finds that “being an artist and being a mom are huge benefits to one another,” she says. “My daughter fills me with so much joy that I bring to my music making. Then I’m filled with joy onstage, which I bring back to her.”
Negotiating family life when both parents are singers requires some coordinating. “Typically when we’re home, the first conversation is who gets the piano first,” Cooke says. The couple works with separate managers and largely lead independent careers. They occasionally perform together—such as a program of love songs with the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center this past season—usually when the presenter knows both of them separately as performers. Cooke is sensitive to keeping clear boundaries between her personal and professional life. Cooke talks frankly about one personal struggle that has long been a feature of her life and hasn’t been made easier by travel. “I’ve been on a diet since I was eight years old,” she concedes, recalling an episode as a teenager when she stayed home from a family vacation so she could diet. “I’ll probably never not be struggling with food,” she says. Difficulties with weight gain have meant corresponding insecurities about her appearance. When Cooke became trimmer in her 20s and started receiving attention from guys, it served to make her more self-conscious. She still has trouble accepting her beauty. Today, “music is where I feel most beautiful. I feel more free when I’m on stage, much more positive and less insecure.” She also notes that a singer’s appearance was less of a priority when she first started singing opera,“so I felt at home.”
While she was giving a masterclass at Rice University, Cooke described the lessons she had learned since her student days there. “Pay attention to how you’re different. Embrace what you can bring to the table and what you are good at,” she encouraged singers. As singers, “we are troubleshooters,” constantly looking at what we have and trying to make it better and different. But she recalled the advice from her undergraduate teacher, who told her to work with what you have. “Everything you do contributes to the artist you are,” Cooke told the masterclass.
Above all, she urged them to trust their instincts. “You get so many opinions and advice. You have to have a sense of what your gut feels. If you don’t, then take time to check in with yourself,” she said. “We don’t know exactly how we sound, so we have to trust people—but the biggest person to trust is ourselves.”
Over the years, Cooke has also been surprised to find singers who spend more time complaining than they spend being grateful, even at the highest levels. When she meets singers who claim that a teacher ruined their voice, she feels people should look out for the many things they should be grateful for, but also follow their gut, taking responsibility for their careers. As she learned from her work with Michael Tilson Thomas, by “helping your colleagues and celebrating their strengths, you are also heightening your own.” By putting aside negative thoughts, taking stock of your abilities, and focusing on the music, you can cultivate a generous spirit that will serve more than just your own career.
Above all, Cooke strives to maintain her personal connection with the music, which has always been her motivation for singing. She remembers the advice her father gave her as she was applying to college: we don’t go to a concert to see a great technician—we go to see a person. Cooke has found success by staying true to her strengths as a musician and sensibilities as a person. But ever humble, “I never imagined it would have worked out so well,” she says.
