I Will Remember

When I think about some of the people I've encountered in my artistic life my heart simply smiles.

There was this one man who bubbled over with zest, passion, and zeal. He really knew how to encourage and bring out the best in others. He was one of my first stage directors. I was struck, immediately, by the enormous amount of respect he demonstrated towards us singers. Some of us were seasoned performers, some of us were beginners, and some of us were somewhere in between, but there were no ranks of importance for Jim. His respect for all of us was equal.

Jim allowed artists to flourish, blossom, take wings and fly, because he was secure, and brave enough not to suffocate us with control. He would say something like, "Here's what's happening in this scene, now go, do it!" Then, he would stand back, watch us, and smile.

Jim loved chaotic scenes in operas, and he loved, even more, drinking scenes. In fact, one of the first things he'd tell every cast was, "There's a drinking scene in this opera. Anyone who's worked with me, before,  knows that if I'm directing, there's a drinking scene."

I gathered that Jim loved those kinds of scenes because of his love for people. He was always reminding us to convey humanity in those scenes by touching each other; laughing heartily; grouping ourselves, instead of standing in a line formation; and facing each other even when doing so required some of us to show our backs to the audience. He would say, "This is how people were, hundreds of years ago, when they'd get together. Don't be afraid to touch each other."

Jim was always reminding us how to be our best, onstage. When we made mistakes he didn't yell at us, but he'd say something like, "Here's what you do." He was always concerned about any of us being upstaged. Oftentimes, when we were rehearsing a scene, he'd walk over and ask, "Do you feel like you're being upstaged?"  Many times he would say to the cast, "Be careful that you don't upstage each other."  Jim had so much respect for each and every one of us.

I remember one operetta production that Jim directed in which I was part of a female quartet ensemble.  Although we'd gone over the curtain call in the dress rehearsals, at the end of the opening night performance our quartet did not get our curtain call due to some backstage hustle and bustle that caused some of the other comprimarios to take theirs ahead of ours.  My quartet was upset about that, but we knew it was an innocent mistake, so we "got over it", and went home without making any ado. On the night of the second performance, when Jim came into the rehearsal room to give us notes before the start of the show, the first thing he said was, "Okay, I want to go over the curtain call, again, so we're all sure about who goes out, when."  My heart simply smiled. Jim had so much respect for all of us.

A week and a half ago, I attended Jim's funeral. It was a beautiful service, full of beautiful music, and beautiful thoughts of Jim shared by his friends.

My heart has been heavy since the day I learned that Jim left this earth. He was just beautiful person.

Ever since my first experience working with Jim, each and every time I've researched a role, developed a character, or prepared for stage work I've thought of him.

I will remember James V. Wiest all the days of my life.