Not to Say Goodbye, Page.

I woke up this morning with an email in my inbox with the simple subject: "Sad News from Mark Shaull." You never want to wake up to sad news, and it can never be good when it's from Mr. Shaull, my high school choir director, who is so busy, he rarely writes.
My friend, mentor and first voice teacher, Page Swift, passed away last Friday. I had no idea, but for the last year she struggled with cancer. I am so sad that I never told her how much I loved and respected her, and how she ignited my passion for music and singing. I have a feeling she knew all this without my verbal telling but for those of us left when our friends pass on, that visceral telling and sharing is such a comfort.
I still remember the first time I walked into Page's voice studio in Palo Alto, trembling after hearing booming, throbbing operatic sounds from the preceding student. Page was always so matter of fact. I think I sang one of my favorite hits of the time, "Bring Him Home" from Les Mis. (Yes, I know that Jean Valjean sings "Bring Him Home" but what 7th grade soprano doesn't want to sing that?) I had sought a voice teacher to get me to the next level in Los Altos Youth Theatre's star progression. I had dreams of "the Broadway." Page was a long-time San Francisco Opera chorus member, and as she was like to do for the next six years, she quickly sized me up and in no time had me trading in Andrew Lloyd Webber for Mozart. Mom sat in that first lesson but after that I was on my own, under Page's steady, exacting yet generous leading. She inspired me to practice, to learn the arias for the roles she deemed me destined to sing and even those she didn't! (I remember a very disappointing day when I brought in Susanna's aria from "Le nozze di Figaro." "Well, you're a Cherubino, not a Susanna." she said to my 15-year-old-self. "You're just not right physically for Susanna.") She was honest with compassion, selfless with her time, so generous with her encouragement. Though she may not have approved, she came to every single one of my theatre performances, kind enough to remind me that I wasn't using my whole voice! It was Page who first led me to opera, to the magic of orchestra and singers and costume and drama all together, other-worldly in its scope. Shortly after beginning lessons with her, she gave my mom and I two tickets to the final dress rehearsal of "L'elisir d'amore" starring Ruth Ann Swenson. Page knew then that I would be trading Broadway for opera and with her steady guidance, I leaped into the world of classical music, of opera training programs and two voice degrees! In the last years, Page continued to encourage me and attend recitals I presented, and until just a few years ago continued to light up the stage of the War Memorial Opera House.
Page was a friend and a guide to so many beautiful singers. I count myself so lucky to have been one of her students. One of my greatest honors was being asked to sing in her wedding as an 8th grader. A single woman into her 50s, she was blessed to find a wonderful husband in Ted. I will never forget that most musically stunning celebration, complete with brass and a large portion of the San Francisco Opera Chorus. She had 3 of her students sing, only showing the heart and love she put into developing singers. Without leaving any children of her own behind, Page has instead left a remarkable legacy of singers in the Bay Area. While not all pursue music as a career, certainly all have been defined and enriched with afternoons singing with Page. I can never thank her enough for the time and love she poured into my life. And while I may have drifted closer to Broadway than the Met in my career pursuits, every time I open my mouth to sing, I know I have been shaped by Page. I shall miss you very much, Page.