Paul Austin Kelly : Songs are the Diamonds in My Life


The holiday season is knocking at the door and for the travel-weary singer, there is probably no more heart-wrenching musical phrase than shopping-mall renditions of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” Time away from loved ones can take its emotional toll, just as the hours spent in hotel rooms waiting for that next performance may seem like an eternity. Nothing is more conducive than solitude and time to opening up the creative recesses of the soul and discovering an artistic outlet born out of a very simple, personal yet universal truth: missing one’s family.

It was this longing for his family that spurred acclaimed American tenor Paul Austin Kelly to a surprising twist in his career, an “avocation,” as he proudly calls it: Writing and singing children’s songs as well as producing CDs of children’s music.

The whole process was ignited by Kelly’s need to maintain close ties to his nine-year old son, Zack, as Kelly’s remarkable operatic career catapulted him onto international stages and into countless hotel rooms. He began writing poems to Zack and sent them via e-mail, because he noticed his son responding very well to rhyming couplets: “[Zack] would then write me an e-mail too: ‘Why don’t you write [a poem] about a bumblebee or something?’ and I did.”

This back-and-forth correspondence between father and son landed on fertile ground: Kelly had always been a fan of children’s music and literature. It was just a matter of time before the lonely hotel hours turned into creative time for this versatile artist who returned to a former passion: song-writing. Only this time, the songs were directed towards children. Thus, Kelly discovered a creative outlet that allowed him to express his feelings for Zack, thousands of miles away, while stimulating the boy’s imagination through poetry and music, as a means of communication.

On a more general level, Kelly refers to this outlet as a channel: “something that was missing previously,” he says. “When I go back to opera and concert music, I’m much happier now, because I don’t feel stifled anymore.”

Can opera be stifling? “For me, it’s just as important to be the creative source. [In opera] I was constantly translating someone else’s creativity… The singer is the channel and takes what’s already been created. In that sense it can be stifling.”

For a singer who began his precocious performing career in several bands—playing folk/traditional, as well as rock and popular music from the fifties, sixties and seventies—freedom of sound and expression was a deeply ingrained priority.

“One advantage to singing this music is that the critical ears are not picking at every vowel that’s out of alignment, and at the purity of a high ‘A.’”

After he “came out of the womb singing,” as his mother remembers, Kelly enjoyed a musical childhood, blossoming under the encouragement of his parents, both music teachers. He began playing piano and trumpet at an early age. But never, throughout his band folk-rock-pop teenage showcases, did the thought of an operatic career cross his mind. Nevertheless, he opted to get a formal musical training at Hartt School of Music. As soon as they heard his voice, they immediately offered him the part of the Prince in a student production of Massenet’s Cinderella.

“I was a tenor, a scarce commodity, and I had no interest in opera, so they asked me four or five times before I said ‘yes.’ Then I got hooked. That opened a new door for me. I found out I loved to act! It gave me the opportunity to be an actor as well as a singer.”

Did Kelly abandon popular music in favor of opera?

“I’ve never abandoned it. I’ve always kept up on what was going on in popular and traditional folk music,” he says. Opera took precedence, however.

“It was a challenge to sing opera and not let any of the technical aspects of pop and folk music creep into it,” he recalls. “Most opera singers have a difficult time when someone asks them to sing a pop song in a style that’s appropriate to that particular song, without sounding operatic.” [Remember the endearing rendition of the three tenors singing “New York, New York”?] Yet Kelly manages to sound perfectly viable, whether he is singing a ballad, a folk song, a pop song or even rap. With the exception of crystal-clear diction, quality of sound as a whole, and the occasional tenor pearl of a high note in falsetto, nothing gives his operatic qualities away. Listening to Kelly sing rock, it is difficult to guess the disguised mastery of roller-coaster coloratura displays and stratospheric full-voiced notes you can hear in his recordings and audio samples on his website: www.Paulaustinkelly.com.

The main question on any classical singer’s mind here would most likely revolve around compatibility between styles. How does a singer go from belting and breathy singing back to the demands of the operatic vocal production? For Kelly, it seems to be as natural as breathing.

“It is a different type of support of the breath. You’re still supporting, but when you sing popular music, you’re not opening up all of your resonating chambers. As an opera singer, the chest voice is as important as opening up all of the resonating areas in the head. A lot of that is unnecessary in pop and folk music where it’s more about pronunciation of words, and knowing when to back off the voice. You also use more of the head voice. If, as an opera singer, you learn the voix-mixte [mixed voice], it becomes a very effective tool in pop singing.”

Kelly says the difficulty in going back to singing opera involves diction more than anything else.

“You use a lot more diphthongs in the vowels in singing pop and folk, and you tend to slight the final consonants or make unusual sounds to get an idea across. That’s something you would never consider in an aria or concert piece.”

The extreme high notes of the leggiero tenor were not always Kelly’s strongest suit. In fact, he had no idea he owned them until already well on his career path. In 1995, he was asked to audition for the role of Ilo in Rossini’s Zelmira. The aria challenged him to a vocal duel with several high D’s.

Kelly turned to his “most important set of ears” and musical partner for 15 years now: his wife, Carol, who is also a vocal coach. With the same natural ease in switching from one style to another, he threw himself into working on this aria, only to discover more gold in his throat, to both his and Carol’s surprise. All he had to do was tune himself higher—easier said than done.

“After finding out I had those notes, the most difficult part was working in and out of the passaggio. It had been around F sharp, G, and as I moved my voice up, the passaggio moved up with me! Then singing the high D became easy, but the difficult note was now the high C. So, I had to go back and rework that whole area of the voice.”

The discovery of his high notes opened up a whole realm of opportunities for the newly re-invented tenor, as he delved into rare territory for bel canto, specializing in Rossini and Donizetti. Rarely performed Rossini operas such as Ermione and Zelmira became trademarks, as well as valuable artistic assets.

Kelly not only introduced some of this repertoire to modern audiences, he also enjoyed the freedom to place his personal stamp on these roles, since previous recordings of such rare bel canto gems were scarce. Therefore critical expectations involved a certain amount of flexibility. For a singer used to freedom of interpretation, this was a blessing.

“It was a question of deciding: Well, here’s what I know about singing Rossini, and here’s what I can bring to it from my own personal experience.”

Despite his versatility, Kelly does not envision moving into the heavier operatic repertoire. He remains faithful to coloratura through the most obvious means: “practice, practice, practice!”

“The only way to keep coloratura alive is to be doing lots of it, otherwise it can become stale and sluggish.” He admits to singing everyday but he offers a word of caution to the wise.

“Striking a balance between singing and the head-work involved in preparing a role can sometimes be very difficult. A lot of singers say it’s hard for them to do this necessary head-work without actually singing, so they end up using their voice three or four hours a day, which can be very unhealthy! It takes discipline to say: ‘No! I sang an hour and a half today; the rest of the time, I can go through the music and think about it without opening my mouth.”

Thinking back on his student days, Kelly remembers that the hardest part for him to master was smoothing out the passaggio.

“It’s something I still work at,” he says. “There’s always a note here or there that I need to concentrate on and smooth it over.” Learning how breath support and diaphragm connection lined up with the voice also provided a challenge in the first years of studying.

“I was given an image of floating tones on a moving column of air and understanding that was not easy.”

Since 1997, Kelly has been living in Lewes, East Sussex, England with his family and soon-to-be-famous dog, an energetic Weimaraner named Oliver, whose name and implied presence lends Kelly’s record label its truly original, humorous, endearing image. The record label, “Walking Oliver,” was literally inspired by the idea of a neighbor who always ran across Kelly and his family as they were out walking Oliver.

The first step in what is now becoming a second career for Kelly was to invest in building a recording studio at home, with the idea of returning to his folk and pop music roots. Encouraged by the effect of his poems on his son, the tenor decided to create a record label designed to produce children’s music CDs. Thus, the “Walking Oliver” label was born; its logo: A sunglass-and-headphones-wearing, whistling, dancing, purple dog, created in collaboration with Korky Kelley, an artist and children’s book illustrator.

A refreshing sense of humor predominates throughout the mini-texts and illustrations of the booklets belonging to the first three CDs. A firm believer in the importance of keeping traditional music for children alive, Kelly invites his young audiences to sing along with him in The Walking Oliver Sing-Along album as well as the playfully titled Don’t Want No Bones For Christmas holiday album. Children can enjoy singing along to favorites such as: “London Bridge” and “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town,” and are introduced to three of Kelly’s own compositions. The tenor/song-writer gives both albums his own distinctive interpretations with a modern twist in instrumentation, and additional lyrics designed for today’s kids and their technological/digital toy perspective.

The third CD, Hello, Michael Rosen! was the perfect opportunity for Kelly to explore his song-writing talents as he set a collection of poems by renowned children’s author Michael Rosen to music of various styles: pop, rock, folk, and rap. [Editor’s note: this Michael Rosen is no relation to the New York artist’s manager of the same name.]

This album generously displays Kelly’s versatility not only as a composer but also as a vocalist, as he remarkably adjusts his voice, acting abilities and emotional inflections to render each song in its right style and character.

“The Michael Rosen album,” declares Kelly, “is for children 5 and older, because Rosen’s poetry applies to older kids.”

The content of one of the songs on this album might strike a dissonant chord. “Mike’s Wedding” is a song about a boy who observes the goings-on at his brother’s wedding. After a family fight, he finds out that his brother’s new wife is already pregnant.

When asked about the appropriateness of this song for 5-year olds, Kelly declared: “I think that writing for children has to do with not being condescending to them and having a real understanding of what a lot of contemporary kids’ experiences are. I think ‘Mike’s Wedding’ is very easy to misunderstand. It’s simply a story about something a kid witnessed that happened to his family.

“I know many children who have witnessed much worse scenes in their own families, and don’t know what to make of them. They are ashamed and afraid, and feel that their family is strange. That’s what is wonderful about Michael Rosen’s honest writing about these experiences. It offers a kid a sense of pathos that these things are out there; they’re just normal occurrences.

“You can’t really shelter children completely. You can be there as a supporting influence and prepare them for what the real world can be about.”

Thus, a celebrated American tenor is advocating a new way of looking at children’s music. By capturing children’s experiences from all situations and walks of life, songs can help children understand, accept, relate to and avoid prejudices towards other kids in terrible situations or environments.

“Songs are the diamonds in my life,” says Kelly, and while he regrets having little time to do actual song recitals, he believes in the power of song as a form of communication and illustration of experiences, be it for children or adults.

Folk/pop singer at heart, Rossini specialist, and pioneer in children’s music, Kelly Austin Kelly is a perfect example of the truth that opera is not the only possibility of expression for a classical singer. But there is no doubt that the astonishing technique acquired in the discipline of classical vocal practice enables him to play with his voice and explore various styles in a healthy fashion.

Kelly has spoken to a lot of singers over the years, and his main advice is: “If you come to a point when you can’t make up your mind whether to forge ahead in a singing career or not, think: If you can do anything else and be happy at it, then that’s probably what you should be doing. But, if you can’t imagine doing anything else, then you just go ahead with it. It doesn’t matter if someone tells you that it’s too hard a life or your chances of success are like winning the lottery. The person with the real drive and passion is not going to pay any attention to that and they’ll find a way to keep singing, a niche.”

The other advice is along more practical lines.

“It may sound harsh, but don’t feel any particular loyalty to a teacher! Find someone good for you, but if you discover that you’ve used up what that teacher had to say or you’re just not getting it, then leave!

“Too many singers have trapped themselves with one overbearing teacher because they convinced themselves they needed to be loyal. It’s just trading a service. You’re paying someone for a service, and if you’re not getting that service, you’ve got to move on.”

Does Kelly see teaching in his future?

“I probably don’t have it in me.”

But he was also not aware that he had the high D’s in him. They were just waiting to be discovered, and so was his ability to communicate with his son through poetry. Perhaps teaching will turn out to be yet another untapped reservoir of surprises. After all, in every artist, there are those unpredictable switches that can turn on an inner light or activate a door to a hidden pathway of unsuspected possibilities.

As Kelly can confirm, it’s by far the simplest acts or human emotions that may trigger an explosion of creativity, whether it’s missing loved ones, walking man’s best friend, or longing to be around family at Christmas time.

Maria-Cristina Necula

Maria-Cristina Necula is a New York-based writer whose published work includes the books “The Don Carlos Enigma,” “Life in Opera: Truth, Tempo, and Soul” and articles in “Das Opernglas,” “Studies in European Cinema,” and “Opera News.” A classically-trained singer, she has presented on opera at Baruch College, the Graduate Center, the City College of New York, UCLA, and others. She holds a doctoral degree in Comparative Literature from The Graduate Center. Maria-Cristina also writes for the culture and society website “Woman Around Town.”