the joyful act of singing
Once, during rehearsals for the opera, when I was singing for Julius, he said to me in awe, "Where the hell did you learn to sing like that?" An interesting question. My voice had not changed; I had. Now, instead of using my singing just to build a career, which is what I had been doing up to that time, I was singing for pure pleasure. I was singing not because I wanted to be Beverly Sills Superstar, but because I needed to sing - desperately. My voice poured out more easily because I was no longer singing for anyone's approval; I was beyond caring about the public's reaction, I just wanted to enjoy myself.
At the same time, as I indicated earlier, I had found a kind of serenity, a new maturity as a result of my childrens' problems. I didn't feel better or stronger than anyone else, but it seemed no longer important whether everyone loved me or not - more important now was for me to love them. Feeling that way turns your whole life around: living becomes the act of giving. When I do a performance now, I still need and like the adulation of an audience, of course, but my real satisfaction comes from what I have given of myself, from the joyful act of singing itself.
from "Bubbles: An Encore", Beverly Sill's autobiography
At the same time, as I indicated earlier, I had found a kind of serenity, a new maturity as a result of my childrens' problems. I didn't feel better or stronger than anyone else, but it seemed no longer important whether everyone loved me or not - more important now was for me to love them. Feeling that way turns your whole life around: living becomes the act of giving. When I do a performance now, I still need and like the adulation of an audience, of course, but my real satisfaction comes from what I have given of myself, from the joyful act of singing itself.
from "Bubbles: An Encore", Beverly Sill's autobiography