Every year about this time, I think of Makiko. I mean, I think of her more intensely than the other 364 days of the year. She passed away on April 30, 2002 at the age of 33.
I will never forget hearing her sing for the first time. Shortly after moving to NYC in March 1998, I went to a liederabend at Juilliard. These concerts, organized by the intrepid (and very cute) Brian Zeger, showcase students from Juilliard's vocal arts department. I had been to a few of these over the years when visiting from Connecticut. The audiences usually consist of other students, faculty, friends of the singers, and senior citizens who attend regularly as the recitals are free.
I saw on the programme that someone named Makiko Narumi was going to sing Schumann's FRAUENLIEBE UND -LEBEN cycle. This is a set of songs depicting the various stages of a woman's life, her marriage, and the ultimate loss of her spouse. It calls not just for sumptuous tone but a wide emotional pallette. So this young Japanese girl comes out, a bit awkward in a flowery yellow dress, and I am thinking, "No way! This is going to be tedious." and then she started singing. My jaw dropped, and I sat bolt upright and hardly breathed for the duration of the cycle. This was a voice in the tradition of Ludwig or Ferrier, a warm contralto of darkish timbre with plushy overtones. She had the line, the control and the dynamics all at her fingertips. But it was more than that; it was a feeling of dignity & nobility of emotion that you hear on old recordings of Karin Branzell and Sigrid Onegin.
I went to the little greenroom to congratulate her; her English was very bad and I am not sure she understood what I was saying. A few days later she came to the store looking for some music and we had a nice conversation. She told me she was studying with Beverley Peck Johnson, Renee Fleming's teacher.
Our friendship took off from there; she invited me to her studio performances and rehearsals at Juilliard. She took me to tea at Mrs. Johnson's, a memorable afternoon of gossip & music making as Mrs. J, then quite elderly, served a delicious cake and then coached Makiko for a while, sometimes lapsing into a napping state at the keyboard. Makiko would smile at me and keep singing; a few moments later Mrs. J would snap out of it and resume playing.
We had many lunches together, and many phone conversations. Makiko loved having a friend who knew quite a bit about singing but who wasn't in the business. Once I took her to NYC Ballet and as we were crossing the Plaza we ran into Alexandra Ansanelli whom I knew slightly and I introduced them. Later that night, Alexandra danced LES NOCES which Makiko thought was breath-taking.
When Makiko sang Dame Quickly in FALSTAFF at Tanglewood with Seiji Ozawa, I ventured up - the farthest I have been from NYC in my 8 years living here. We had a great time and other singers I knew, Scott Bearden, Will Ferguson, Jason Ferrante and Randall Scarlata were there so we had some photos and then got pizza and sat out on the lawns as the evening concert started.
Makiko appeared in her final Juilliard production as the Old Prioress in DIALOGUES OF THE CARMELITES; the horrific death scene of this character was sadly prophetic. The following summer while at Aspen to repeat the same role, the pain in Makiko's ankle which had bothered her for a year was finally accurately diagnosed; there was a tumor there.
She had a form of cancer that is rare; Sloan Kettering had seen only a handful of cases and the prognosis was dismal. It was spreading throughout her body at a rapid rate. In December 2001, Makiko made a heroic effort to sing Mahler 2nd at Carnegie Hall; her gorgeous vocalizing of the "Urlicht" literally had people around me weeping...but they didn't know the whole story. Makiko left Carnegie Hall in a wheelchair; I never heard her sing again.
In late March 2002 she called to say she was flying back to Japan to try some treatment there. She said, "It will take me a month to get settled in there and take care of everything, but in one month you will hear from me!" A month later, she had passed away.
At the time of her death, Makiko was lining up some wonderful engagements. The soprano Amy Burton had heard Makiko at Juilliard and with great kindness & generosity nominated her to be mezzo soloist in Mahler 2nd with Burton in New Orleans - this was before the diagnosis. Makiko was to have sung her first Suzukis in BUTTERFLY at Palm Beach, and Britten's Spring Symphony in Seattle. She also landed a role in Tan Dun's opera TEA which was to open in Amsterdam and then tour. There is a DVD of this production, and Makiko's role is taken by Ning Liang.
Today while preparing to write this I did a Google search and came upon a painting of Makiko done in Aspen. I have contacted the artist, Tyler Alpern, and asked if I might link to his site from here. I'll take a chance that he will approve:
http://www.tyleralpern.com/galleryone.html
Scroll down, Makiko is the last picture in the page. The artist catches her warmth and her great enjoyment of bringing her talent to people.
{I have added some photos to this article: first is Makiko & my friend Mollie at Lincoln Center, then a photo of Makiko costumed as Dame Quickly at Tanglewood, and one of her with baritone Randall Scarlata after the Tanglewood FALSTAFF. Click on images to enlarge}
I have several recordings of Makiko's singing but I have not been able to listen to her since her death; the most beautful are the Mahler Ruckert lieder and my favorite song in all the canon of German lied: "Liebst du um schoenheit"...if you love beauty, do not love me!
