Extraordinary voice, extraordinary hands

Humanist, March-April, 2005 by Harriet Epstein

IT WAS A SATURDAY in April 1983 that started out like any other day for Susan Davenny Wyner. The internationally acclaimed opera singer looked over her schedule for the next six months, practiced some vocal exercises, and then decided to go bicycling in Central Park. It was her favorite way of taking a little respite from an existence devoted so completely to music.

Music was the heritage she came by quite naturally. Her father was a concert pianist at Yale University, her mother a music librarian. Although singing was her "being" as she always put it, she was equally versed in the violin, viola, and piano. She had graduated summa cum laude from Cornell University in both comparative literature and music, and it didn't take her long to climb the concert ladder. Now in her mid thirties, the soprano was at the height of her career: appearing at the Metropolitan Opera, the New York City Opera, and with major orchestras all over the country. Her combination of voice and musicianship made her a favorite with such conductors as Leonard Bernstein, Seiji Ozawa, Colin Davis, Erich Leinsdorf, and Andre Previn. And the critics who heard her sing were always lavish with praise and admiration.

On that day in April, she was happily riding her bicycle, listening to the birds and admiring the greenery. Then, as she exited the park, a hit-and-run driver suddenly struck her. One instant she was on her bike, the next she was flying through the air. Her helmet saved her life but her back was fractured and the force of the blow knocked her teeth straight back into her head. Though dental repair was successful, serious damage was done to her vocal chords. Gone was her extraordinary voice, and her operatic career.

What followed next were three harrowing years through which Davenny Wyner unsuccessfully struggled to rehabilitate her voice. "I could not imagine a life without singing," she declared. It took enormous courage for her to keep from sliding into depression. Luckily she had great support from her family and her husband. She had met Yehudi Wyner, an accomplished musician and composer, when she was taking a summer composing course at Yale University. The colorful Yehudi had already written numerous works for orchestra and chamber ensemble, chorus and voice, solo instrumental works, liturgical settings and some klezmer (Jewish folk music usually played in small groups). After a year the two were married. It was Yehudi who pointed the way for her phoenixlike resurgence of a career in the musical world.

It began one day when a trick of fate offered Davenny Wyner a brand new challenge. She describes the incident that helped start her new life:

   I was up at Cornell running the vocal
   department and hoping to retrain my
   voice. A group of young women singers
   with the amusing name of "Nothing But
   Treble" approached and asked if I would
   conduct them in a concert. They usually
   performed popular music but wanted to
   try the classics, so I was excited to be
   introducing them to that rich world.
   When Yehudi saw me conduct he said,
   "You have something special" I trusted
   him. His words hit a deep resonance in
   me. And it was then that I determined to
   start at the beginning and study the art
   of conducting.

And that's precisely what she did as she embarked on another sensational new career.

It was great fun to be in the audience of Boston's Jordon Hall on January 17, 2003, to witness Davenny Wyner conduct. Throughout her performance her petite, lithesome figure swayed in ballet-like movements as she led the New England String Ensemble, captivating the huge audience. We quickly forgot we were listening to an entirely string orchestra. The music resonated lush and full, making us think we were also hearing brass and percussion. "How do you manage to accomplish that?" some of us later asked. "That is one of my goals," Davenny Wyner said, "to move beyond the normal colors ... to explore many styles, and to enter richly emotional spiritual realms together. I want to be the fuse that sparks us to 'go beyond' so that we transcend the ordinary and enter the extraordinary that is always there in music."

As usual, the program was complex and varied. Davenny Wyner is constantly on the search for new and exciting experiences in music. She chooses a variety of diverse selections and always manages to come up with innovative programs. This time, in addition to Mozart's Divertimento and Benjamin Britten's Serenade for Tenor, Horn, and Strings, Davenny Wyner offered a Chinese composition, Romance and Dance for two violins and string orchestra. The very same woman who created magic with her voice--who, according to the New York Times, "sang gorgeously, obtaining ravishing musical effects with her warm, luscious soprano"--now creates magic with her hands, winning equally lavish praise.

Davenny Wyner is clearly achieving huge success in her new craft. At her very first concert with the New England String Ensemble her conducting of Dmitri Shostakovich's Fourteenth Symphony was called "dazzling." Richard Dyer of the Boston Globe wrote enthusiastically that she "and the orchestra played with a rapturous, shimmering transparency that sounded ecstatically right." The MacNeil Lehrer Newshour and WGBH Television presented special documentary features on her life and work, the Los Angeles Times praised her "sensitive and thoughtful leadership," and the Chicago Tribune celebrated her "rousing and joyful conducting."