Three hours into my lunch interview with Jean Fenn, at her home in Bainbridge Island, Washington, the rapid patter of her voice stops, and she looks at me levelly. "You know me well enough now to give a fair account of my career." Before I can reply, she continues, "This business about me going into 'limbo,' that just irks me!"
Now eighty-five, Fenn is referring to a quote from Lanfranco Rasponi'sLast Prima Donnas, listing American sopranos "who showed so much promise … only to go into limbo." That judgment, mindlessly parroted in online references to Fenn, has somehow gradually acquired currency. Her Met career, which spanned much of Rudolf Bing's tenure, may be the locus of this vague critical disappointment. Fenn herself is candid, if not a little glib, about her time there: "I had an early break at the Met, but I blew it. When the same thing happened ten years later, I was ready." But one doesn't assess a ballplayer's performance from a highlights reel of flubs and clutch plays. As our conversation unfolds, the puzzle pieces of Fenn's career outside the Met begin to fill in a much larger and far more fascinating picture.
...
No comments:
Post a Comment