Leontyne Price(less). — Twenty20. Let's see good. Together

Photographed by Avedon for Blackglama’s “What Becomes a Legend Most” campaign.

With news outlets marveling that Leontyne Price was turning ninety-five on February 10th, the storied soprano charmed her way into my consciousness once again. In truth, she never left it. She had been as much a part of my musical youth as Peter Frampton or Donna Summer. And it was her recording of “Porgy and Bess” that had the 12-year old me imagining a career in stage design—turning an old record player into a revolving “Catfish Row” (the opera’s Charleston, SC setting).

Leontyne's final bow as Aida at the Met (1985).

Ask, “If you could have seen any performance in history, what would it be?” and I have two answers: Laurette Taylor in the original production of “The Glass Menagerie” (1939); and Leontyne’s farewell performance of “Aida” at the Met (1985). Different as they are, each is defined by my inability to separate the performance from the performer’s legend. Taylor had nearly faded into alcoholism before delivering what Director Hal Prince (and everyone else on record) called, “the greatest performance of my life.” Leontyne—still glorious in body and voice—received a 25-minute ovation. And with memories of her trajectory from Laurel, MI to La Scala seeming to play over her face—she is nearly undone by it.

But it was the weeks following September 11th that provided Leontyne with what—for me—is her penultimate moment. Coming out of retirement to perform an a cappella rendition of “God Bless America” before an audience of first responders at Carnegie Hall, the 74-year-old soprano hit an otherworldly B flat below high C that still gives me chills. I will always believe that on that night, in that hallowed hall, the singer’s faith and love of New York (her home for 40 years) culminated in a moment of divine intervention.

I have routinely tried to start my day with a joyful noise. A moment of grace. A song to inspire the best in me. And eight times out of ten, that “song” is Leontyne’s performance of “Ave Maria” from Verdi’s Othello. Mournful and transcendent all at once, it never ceases to overwhelm me. (And while far from an opera aficionado, I count it among my favorite pieces of music ever.)

Finishing this post, I notice my continued use of “Leontyne” rather than “Price” Not a conscious choice on my part, but perhaps the truest testament to the way fans feel about her. Ad man Peter Rogers included Leontyne in his “What Becomes a Legend Most” Blackglama Mink campaign, and remembers her saying whenever they went somewhere, “Honey, let’s show them how we do it in the south.” My father experienced a similar kind of down-home self-effacement when he was consulted on some renovations to Leontyne’s West Village townhouse.

While there has never been a more regal presence on opera’s stage, there’s nothing diva-like about her. Interviewed for 2017’s “The Opera House,” which documents the building of the new Met, Leontyne still couldn’t fully believe SHE was chosen to open the house (in the premiere of Samuel Barber’s Antony and Cleopatra, written for her). “Are you KIDDING me?” she laughingly remembers thinking, before saying she was, “Determined to do our country proud.”

And I’m charmed all over again.