What was the first opera you ever sang in professionally?
My first job in opera was as an artist in residence for the North Carolina Opera, the touring arm of the Charlotte Opera Association (now, Opera Carolina).

 

My contract read that I was to perform the following roles: Don Magnifico in Cenerentola, Mephisto in "A Devil's Tale" (adapted from Gounod's Faust).  So, likely I performed Don Magnifico first because we "sold" a lot more of those.  That said, they were both in English, and performed with piano.  My first professional role in the original language with Orchestra was the Jailer in Tosca.  I only had 4 lines....but hey, you gotta start somewhere.

What is the first Opera you ever learned?
I have to be honest, I don't really remember the first opera I ever learned.  I was exposed to so much of it when I was younger, that it's a tough one to answer.

 

For example, my mother sang the lead in G. C. Menotti's "Amahl and the Night Visitors".  When the "Page" grabbed my mother's arm screaming the words, "Thief, she stole the gold," I screamed too.  My babysitter had to haul me out of there.

 

My mother sang the role of Donna Anna, and my father sang the title role in Don Giovanni, this happened before I was in first grade! In fact, I am told that I didn't want to play cowboys and indians; I would confiscate my mother's wrap-around skirt to use as a cape, my cowboy hat folded down on one side, and adorned with a plume from my mother's feather duster, and a broom handle as a sword, and a glued on beard, and play "the Don." I'm told I sang "lascia indegno”; I think there was some embellishing there.

 

My father sang Scarpia, and my mother sang the title role of Tosca the next year. I'm told my mother lost the knife and stabbed Dad with a banana. 

 

My father sang the title role of Rigoletto!  When I began learning that role, I had an extremely emotional reaction to the extremely beautiful page of music starting with , "Ah! Veglia o Donna, questo fiore..."

 

So you see, for a second generation opera singer, who was basically raised around opera, this is a complicated question.

 

Now, the first opera I ever learned to perform was Bob in G.C. Menotti's "Old Maid and the Thief" with the beautiful aria, "When the air sings of Summer, I must wander again."  

Do you have a favorite anecdote about your children seeing you in a performance or in a rehearsal?
My favorite anecdote to a performance of mine was during a dress rehearsal of Rigoletto. My son was 2 ½ at the time, and was being unusually attentive until the abduction scene at the end of the second scene of Act 1.  The director had envisioned this as a comedia dell'arte scene and had the masked courtiers in a commedia dell' arte masks, complete with the long noses and feathers. My son said to his mother, "Look mommy, CHICKENS!"

 

Well, I'm afraid that was too good to pass up.  During the one of the performances, we got to that particular scene and I decided to have a little fun.  We had come to the place where the courtiers give Rigoletto the false assignment of holding the ladder for the courtiers. There was a young chorister standing by me singing away. So I gently leaned over to him and said to him, "My little boy says you look like chickens."  Naturally, he broke up.  I am a consummate professional, but sometimes I just can't resist.

 

What are the best words of career or life advice you've ever received?
-from my dad-

Oddly enough, my father was the first person in my life that ever told me I had an operatic voice.

 

I had a very different career path in mind, of course.  Reminds me of a joke: Do you know how to make God laugh? Tell him your plans.

 

He sat me down and said, "I've taught a lot of voices in my time, and there have only been two who had what it takes to have a professional career. The first was Dennis. The other one is you.”

Of course I thanked my dad and gently told him I had no intention of doing opera (mstly it was because HE liked it; I was, after all, 19), but I never forgot it.

-from Sherrill Milnes-

"If you want to have a nice language to be glamorous and clever, learn Italian. If you want a CAREER language, learn German."

 

Upon hearing my Carlo in La Forza del Destino, he said, "Look, I believe in great diction, but you took it too far.  You have to still sing with line."  God bless him.

-from Pavarotti-

"Dai! Do it!"  I, of course, thought he was saying "DIE" to which I responded poorly, but it stuck with me. Sort of like Nike isn't it?  DO IT!

-from Jerome Hines-

Upon hearing me audition with "Eri Tu! " from Un Ballo in Maschera

"You have a vocal production somewhat similar to (name left out), kind of like this" to which I was treated to a rather amazing, but nasal production of the first several lines. He continued, "But the huge careers, like Leonard Warren, Bob Merrill, and Larry Tibbett all had a production like this," too which I was rewarded with the first several lines in HIS rather amazing, dark, huge sound. My ears rang for at least a week.

 

Jerry was an amazing father figure for me. It is difficult to estimate the impact of this man on my life, but to attempt to put the spiritual into words, try to image a great bottle of wine without having the benefit of ....time. It was as if I spent 10-15 years with Jerry, but it was simply compacted into two.

 

As a performer, there are sometimes little unplanned things that happen onstage that one must deal with during a live performance- the show must go on. Can you share with us a few of your own personal anecdotes?

One of my favorite scenes in opera is the first scene of Falstaff.  Part of the reason for this is the improvisational nature of the comedy between Falstaff, Bardolfo and Pistola.

 

I was particularly enjoying our comic antics and then I was to grab Bardolfo's nose and drag him around a while. Well the Bardolfo was played by my good friend and great comedian, Joel Sorensen, who, on the spur of the moment, let out a whimper of pain that was the funniest thing I had ever heard. It was so funny, that I laughed out loud. Of course, I attempted to cover it as part of the acting, but I really had trouble keeping my composure. 

 

He tried to apologize, but I wouldn't let him. In fact, I encouraged him to make it as crazy as he liked in the future. Funny man.

 

I was performing Escamillo in Carmen for my home town of Phoenix, AZ.  We'd managed to get to the 4th act where I wore the famous 'suit of lights'.  It was, to say the least, very tight.

 

I needed a touch up on my make up so I sat down in the makeup chair. I thought to myself how much better the pants fit.

 

As I walked away, one of my colleagues gasped, and I was told exactly WHY they fit better. I had torn them from top to bottom. What was not so great about this is that I was wearing pink tights underneath these black knee britches.

 

That...uh...well...tends to stand out.

 

The wardrobe mistress' solution was to take a black magic marker and "blacken in" the offending area. Ok, maybe it wasn't a good idea, but when you are counting minutes, one does what one can.

 

It was a very short scene, and I didn't have to do anything strenuous and everything was fine.  The Curtain Calls were...interesting.

 

I was on tour with the Western Opera Theatre Tour in 1986.  I was blessed to be able to do the title role of Don Giovanni. I was in the graveyard scene with Leporello and the Commendatore.  Well, I waved my left hand at Leporello and got too close to my left ear and pulled my earring off. It tumbled harmlessly to the ground.

 

Well, in my quick thinking, I said to myself, "Self, No big deal.  In character, simply reach down and retrieve that little item." I did so, but to my shock and horror, I felt the material in the seat of my pants rrrrrrrrrrrip. Well, I was wearing a cape so it wasn't really a big deal. But the final scene of the opera was without a cape. So when I got off stage, I ran to the wardrobe guy, who, to my bewilderment began to try to TAPE IT UP with electrical tape.  I asked him why he wasn't sewing it up. He informed me, to my disgust, that the material had dry-rotted and had gone on a diagonal rip, not a seam rip; meaning, there was nothing to sew. 

 

So we ran out of time, and I had to go on, tear and all.  Now what made this so strange was that I was wearing an athletic supporter. You athletes out there can bear me out here; there is just not much to those things. In fact, there is nothing to cover one's backside, so I was ....exposed to the elements.

 

Well I did my best to "dance" around the issue, keeping my exposed side from the audience, only to discover later that the wings of the theater were lined with colleagues hoping to catch my little show.

 

On the bus trip home, I was given a rather prestigious award that has never been duplicated, nor will it be repeated. 

 

One of your hobbies is woodcarving. I understand that you actually carved the staff for Das Rheingold in San Francisco Opera's new Ring cycle, which began in June 2008. When did you start carving?

I first started carving around 2002. I was doing Il Trittico at the New York City Opera.  I was singing both Michele in Il Tabarro, and the title role in Gianni Schicchi. We were rehearsing Tabarro and they handed me a pipe.  Those who know the piece know that the pipe is integral to the plot line and often mentioned in the dialogue.  Giorgetta even implies that Michele cares more for his pipe than for her.  It didn't take too much supposition to realize that as a result of the death of their young child, she had turned outward with her affair with Luigi, and Michele had turned inward and developed an emotional attachment to the pipe.

 

Well, I took it one step forward and asked them if I could carve on it.  They agreed and I went to town. I had done some graphic arts in the past and had developed my own style and tried in three dimensions and it turned out quite nice.  The theatre is a funny place and as fate would have it, someone misplaced it and it was lost. I asked for another and I started over.  So before the run was over I'd finished two pipes. 

 

I had a bit of a break before my next engagement and I began looking around for something else to carve. I found a box with the label, "Make the knife you carry."  In it was a large knife blade, a hilt (the cross piece on some knives that protect the fingers from the blade), a pommel (sometimes called a buttcap; the piece that holds it all together at the bottom), and low and behold a huge piece of wood; a burl as I remember. 

 

I proceeded to make mistake after mistake, but ended up with quite a nice knife with a beautifully carved handle. So I began searching for more wood, more blades, etc. I began accumulating catalogues with the stuff I needed.

 

The next year, I wondered what it would be like to etch the blades in the same sort of design. I made a few calls and one of my calls lead to the Chronite Company in Whippany, NJ.  The owner gave me a lot of information and sold me some products and I started etching blades.

 

The next year I began wondering if I could apply my same design to tooling the leather for sheaths.   Turned out there were a lot of leather stores in the areas I was working. 

 

Next, I wondered if I could make my own Scottish Dirks.  I started out by making the handles and figured out a way to have a capstone put on the top and engaged the people at Santa Fe Stoneworks to build them for me. 

 

I've make around 30 Scottish dirks and 20 or so daggers.  It's been a pretty fun hobby. 

 

Last Summer, when I was about to do my first Wotan, Donald Runnicles suggested I make my own spear.  The spear, as most Ring lovers know, is Wotan's most prized possession. I thought that sounded like a great idea so I developed a design in my head and constructed what I thought was a pretty good piece.

 

Well I had them shipped and they got there in good shape.  In Das Rheingold, there is a pretty violent exchange between Alberich and Wotan where Wotan steals the precious Ring. There was a staged fight where I struck Alberich (played by Richard Paul Fink), on the back of his thighs.  Well, I barely touched him and the spear shattered. At that point. I asked around as to why and they pointed to the piece of wood and showed me the flaw. In other words, it was unavoidable; better in a rehearsal then on stage.

 

The wonderful props crew constructed a beautiful piece combining my spear blade and some other elements and the director's original idea.  It was pretty beautiful. It was hard to get upset over losing my spear to this beauty.

 

Read the San Francisco Examiner article featuring Mark and The Delavan Edge. Read it here.

 

After classical music, your favorite genre is country music?

I fell in love with country music because of The Outlaws-Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings.  I also really loved Johnny Cash, but of all of them, my favorite is the Larry Gatlin and the Gatlin Brothers Band.  That combined my favorite elements--great harmony and great singing.  Larry and I have since become friends and I have had the honor of being called out of the audience a couple of times at his concerts and got to sing.

 

What strikes you funny?

My sense of humor is pretty strange. I sort of have a range of humor.  For instance, on the dark side, I found the movie, "Beetlejuice" hilarious. Most people didn't. I find most romantic comedies trite and boring.  That said, "When Harry met Sally" was great fun.  

 

Certain comedians make me laugh.  I have enjoyed "the Blue Collar Tour" (Bill Engvall, Jeff Foxworthy, Ron White, and Larry the cable guy) a lot.  Along that same vein, I find the Television show, "Whose Line is it Anyway" absolutely hilarious.  The improvisational aspect of comedy has always intrigued and entertained me.

 

Before I get off this subject, a few days before my last birthday, my wife "kidnapped" me and took me down to Atlantic City for a night away.  We checked in, had a nice meal and she took me to a show.  I had no idea where we were going until we got there and I discovered I was to see one of my favorite improvisational comedians, Robin Williams.  I laughed a lot.  But frankly, my wife laughed so hard, I thought we were going to have to carry her out. As funny as Mr. Williams was, that was unplanned and the funniest thing I saw all night.

 

Do you have any favorite books?

I like to read to my sons, and one of my/their favorite for me to read is the “Hairy Maclary” series by Lynley Dodd.  The reason is that she writes in prose, but the only way to make all the poetry come out correctly is with a Scottish accent.  The boys like it and so do I.

 

For deep reading, I find the C.S. Lewis books thought provoking. I especially liked his space trilogy: Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength. 

 

For pleasure, I've enjoyed the Tom Clancy books, especially the Jack Ryan series. Nothing like a great spy novel to take one's mind off of work.  Maybe they will write an opera about Jack Ryan. I don't know about you, but Jack Ryan is a baritone; no question.
 

Opera singers wear numerous costumes. Can you tell us about a few of your favorite costumes that you've worn?
I have had several costumes that stand out in my mind.

-In 1985, in addition to the Merola Program, I was invited to take part in the Western Opera Theater Tour. That year, I was engaged to do the title role in Don Giovanni.  When it came time for the costume fitting, the wardrobe person told me that the last person to wear that particular costume was none other than Cesare Siepi.  I am quite sure that at that moment, I grew 2 inches.

-In 1987, the San Franciso Opera was putting on Pique Dame. I was asked to cover the role of Tomsky.  After I accepted that, I was quickly engaged to sing the role of Plutus, God of the Underworld in the 2nd act Pastorale.  Typically, the gentleman who does Tomsky, also does the role of Plutus, as I did both in Japan at the Saito Kinen Festival and at the Metropolitan Opera in 2008. But the unfortunate Tomsky that year had absolutely NO hope of fitting into the costume which was made for the very tall and lean Tom Krause, one of the most elegant baritones of his generation.  Since I was young and slender, it was given to me.

It consisted of gold boots, rust leotards, a gold skirt, a rather buffed armored breastplate and a silver Handelian wig that was far more than shoulder length.  I was a sight.  Dame Edna had nothing on me, I'll tell ya.

-Of all of the costumes that I've worn, my favorite had to be for my Met debut.  I was debuting in 2001 in the wonderful Sonja Frisell production of Aida. I was singing with my good friend Deborah Voigt (who incidently was on that 1986-87 Western Opera Theatre tour doing Donna Anna), and Luciano Pavarotti.  So I already had enough pressure.

I went to my costume fitting and was handed this spectacular costume complete with bones to wear on the arm and neck and a wonderful wig with dreadlocks.  What made that outfit special was the first person who wore it; my good friend Sherrill Milnes. Guess who got a phone call that day?

 

If you could invite several famous people to dinner, who would they be, and why?
If I could invite some famous people to dinner it would have to be Willie Nelson, Robin Williams, Sean Connery, Colin Powell, Norman Schwarzkopf, and Maya Angelou.

Obviously, I admire all of these people, for a variety of reasons. But the primary objective would be to engage them all in a very heated debate about some inane subject and just sit back...and learn.