Monday, Nov. 10, 1980

A Glorious, Bubbly Finale

By Michael Demarest

Beverly Sills ends her opera career with a jubilee

In a blizzard of flower petals, balloons, confetti and bravoes, she dipped her final curtsy with all the grace and enfolding gaiety that have made her the country's favorite diva. It was her last hurrah as an opera singer. For more than a quarter of a century audiences have been captivated by her supple, crystalline soprano voice, the musicality of her every acting gesture and her warm, spontaneous personality, which soared--but never stomped--across the footlights. There was no phony mystique, no overlay of artistic "temperament" in a world notorious for imperious egos. Sills onstage was indistinguishable from Sills in life: a keenly intelligent, shrewd, ebullient woman (her nickname is Bubbles) who has taken a stable, no-nonsense approach to one of the century's major singing careers.

It was typical of Sills to turn her farewell to opera (she will still sing light fare on television) not simply into a lavish party but into a $1 million fund raiser for the New York City Opera, of which she is now general director. The jubilee was at the New York State Theater, in Manhattan's Lincoln Center, before an S.R.O. audience of 2,700. Tickets to the gala benefit went for as much as $1,000. For her last role Sills chose Rosalinda in Johann Strauss's Die Fledermaus, the part in which she had made her New York City Opera debut exactly 25 years ago. This night, though, Strauss moved over for Sills. Only the second act was performed, and shortly after Sills embarked on the watch duet with Alan Titus, the stage was de-Straussed. "Beverly!" came a shriek from backstage. Enter Carol Burnett,

Sills' pal and fellow trouper. Leading the diva to center stage, Carol caroled: "Beverly here thought she could sneak out on us!" Fat chance. Thereafter, like sneak out Halloween treats, plus a few tricks, came star after star to celebrate Sills.

Evoking a witty television show they did together four years ago, Burnett and Sills swapped roles: Carol singing Un bel di from Madama Butterfly, Bubbles busting in with Stormy Weather. Dinah Shore came on with Blues in the Night; Mary Martin with My Heart Belongs to Daddy. Ethel Merman belted There's No Business Like Show Business. Leontyne Price sang a moving What I Did for Love from A Chorus Line; Renata Scotto decided to Over the Rainbow. Bass-Baritone Donald Gramm brought down the house with a Sillified version of I Want What I Want When I Want It.

From the world of dance came New York City Ballet's Peter Martins and Heather Watts and American Ballet The ater's Cynthia Gregory, who fluttered exquisitely through the Fledermaus solo. Placido Domingo exalted Granada. Sherrill Milnes, who spends much of his time playing villains, sang a poetic, almost prayerful Maria. Flutist James Galway. having piped himself on with a penny whistle, dared to play the almost unbearably poignant Danny Boy and, through sheer musicianship, let the beauty, not the tears, flow. Not all the celebrants had to perform. Onstage by the evening's end were many more revelers: Joan Mondale, New York City Mayor Edward Koch, Walter Cronkite, Zubin Mehta, Lady Bird Johnson, Sarah Caldwell, Burt Reynolds et several als.

As always, La Sills ended the show with Portuguese Folk Song-- this time with her own lyrics: We have shared so much together/ 'Tis not the end but a new start/ So my dears you know I love you/ You'll be forever in my heart. With that sendoff, the crowd went to a ball in a vast, striped tent beside the theater.

At 51, Sills is retiring at nearly prime time, with more than 60 roles to her credit. One of her first successes came in Douglas Moore's The Ballad of Baby Doe. The part of the adulterous Baby showed off not only Sills' lyricism and agility but the ineffable aura of youthfulness that her voice retained through most of her career. She triumphed as another young seductress in Massenet's Manon. But she achieved her major reputation in florid, commanding roles. In 1966 she became famous overnight with her debut as Cleopatra in Handel's Julius Caesar. In later years the bel canto heroines-- Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor and his trilogy of queens, in Roberto Devereux, Maria Stuarda and Anna Bolena-- displayed her lightning coloratura. Vocal fireworks were Sills' great strength. In comedies like The Barber of Seville she could be earthy, almost broad. But in the tragedies her carriage was noble, her posture plumb-line, her motions filling out the musical line as surely as a dancer's do.

She will now address all her formidable energies to the New York City Opera, which she took over in July 1979. The company's health shows in an expanding budget; while deficits exist they are manageable. Sills believes passionately that the City Opera should be virtually an all-American ensemble.

Her own career is emblematic: she demonstrated to young singers that it is possible to succeed without a European aprenticeship. For her company, un bel d`i For operagoers, more bubbly times ahead.

-- By Michael Demarest

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