DIY History | Transcribe | Campus Culture | Cecile Cooper newspaper clippings, 1966-1987 | 1985-06-02 ""Opera star Estes grateful for sports""

Transcribe
Translate

Cecile Cooper newspaper clippings, 1966-1987

1985-06-02 ""Opera star Estes grateful for sports""

[[photo caption]]
Opera singer Simon Estes recalls his Iowa roots
[[end caption]]

DES MOINES SUNDAY REGISTER JUNE 2, 1985/3D

Opera star Estes grateful for sports

By GEORGE VECSEY
1985 New York Times
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- When Simon Estes steps on stage at La Scala or the Metropolitan Opera, he often gives thanks to another world-famous building, the high school gymnasium at Centervill, Ia.
It was in the furtive Saturday morning pickup games and the frustrating varsity basketball practices that he developed some of the strengths that make him one of the world's leading bass-baritones.
Between his appearances all over the world, specializing in Wagner, Estes remains as American as corn fields, Professor Harold Hill and a slam dunk at the University of Iowa, where he played freshman basketball.
"Of course, I was fortunate to have God-given ability in my vocal cords," he says. "But I never had to work on my breath control. I always had that from playing sports all my life.
110 Percent
Estes also gives credit to sports for teaching him "to give 110 percent effort," particularly as a black athlete coming along in the 1950s, "when things weren't quite what they are now."
It is important to hear Estes give witness to value of sport, because of the many negative faces of sports in recent weeks.
Denny McLain, a former Cy Young award winner, has been sentenced to jail for racketeering among other things; Joe Pepitone, once a New York Yankee, has been arrested on charges of drug possession; the basketball program at Tulane University has been abandoned because of a gambling scandal, and a grand jury in Pittsburgh has investigated possible drug contacts with professional athletes.
Sports was once proclaimed a totally positive influence on people, but now there is the leveling awareness that sports do not redeem all who play them. Still, lives are transformed by dedicated coaches, sharp competition, proper recruiting and scholarships, and the right doors opening.
Successful Athletes
There is Fletcher Johnson, the former Duquesne basketball player, now a cardiologist in Nyack, N.Y.; Wilbert McClure, the 1960 Olympic boxing champion, now a psychologist in Boston; Larron Jackson, the former guard with the Denver Broncos and Atlanta Falcons, now a minister at a major church in Brooklyn, and there is Estes, the opera singer from Centerville.
His grandfather had been born a slave in the south; his father had migrated from Missouri to work the coal mines of Iowa, and Estes learned to sing in the Second Baptist Church. He played all the sports, and was thrilled to be able to high jump 6 feet 2 inches, 1 inch higher than his own height, "which I thought was pretty amazing at the time."
His main sport was basketball. He believes he was one of the best players in town for his age, but not every coach let him start.
"My junior varsity coach, Bill Jerome, didn't have a prejudiced bone in his body," Estes says. "He taught me to give 110 percent, particularly on defense. He knew that was where games were won. But I also learned that sometimes 100 percent was not enough."
Games with Friends
Working as an assistant janitor while in high school, Estes would let his friends into the gym on Saturday, which nearly got him dismissed but for the intercession of the superintendent, E.W. Fannon.
He received a small athletic grant at Iowa, but played only as a freshman. After that, with academic aid and a full-time job, he was a pre-med major for three years, a theology major for a year, and a social psychology major for three more years, accumulating credits and integrating the university's Old Gold singers.
One day his voice teacher, Charles Kellis, took him aside and played records "by Caruso, Leontyne Price, Eileen Farrell, and I loved them, absolutely loved them. I had no doubt after that what I wanted to do."
It has not been easy. European audiences would accept a black man singing a duet with a white woman more readily than American audiences would, and Estes has accumulated most of his experience abroad.
"I'm sure it was the same way in sports back then," he says. "If we're equal, you get the job. If I'm a little better, you get the job. If I'm a lot better, I get the job -- and they under pay me. It's getting better now. I'm not a bitter person, but just as in sports, there are few black agents, critics, conductors or members of management."
Since his debut at the Met in 1982, Estes and his wife, Yvonne Baer, a teacher and native of Switzerland, and his two daughters have bought a home in New Jersey. He keeps up with American sports via the International Herald Tribune wherever he is, and the other day he and his favorite coach, Bill Jerome, shot some baskets out in Centerville while filming a documentary for a West Berlin television crew.
"It felt good to handle the ball again," said Estes, who tries to exercise via walking and isometrics. He also watches his diet because he is staring 200 pounds in the face, and does not smoke or drink -- lessons he learned from his early days in sports.
"In music we say, 'You sing on the interest, not on the principal,'" Estes says. "that means you've got some basic ability and you learn to invest it, to have your reserve. But I still give 110 percent, and I'm always prepared for every performance.
"Bill Jerome, my coach, taught me that."

Saving...

[[photo caption]] Opera singer Simon Estes recalls his Iowa roots [[end caption]] DES MOINES SUNDAY REGISTER JUNE 2, 1985/3D Opera star Estes grateful for sports By GEORGE VECSEY 1985 New York Times NEW YORK, N.Y. -- When Simon Estes steps on stage at La Scala or the Metropolitan Opera, he often gives thanks to another world-famous building, the high school gymnasium at Centervill, Ia. It was in the furtive Saturday morning pickup games and the frustrating varsity basketball practices that he developed some of the strengths that make him one of the world's leading bass-baritones. Between his appearances all over the world, specializing in Wagner, Estes remains as American as corn fields, Professor Harold Hill and a slam dunk at the University of Iowa, where he played freshman basketball. "Of course, I was fortunate to have God-given ability in my vocal cords," he says. "But I never had to work on my breath control. I always had that from playing sports all my life. 110 Percent Estes also gives credit to sports for teaching him "to give 110 percent effort," particularly as a black athlete coming along in the 1950s, "when things weren't quite what they are now." It is important to hear Estes give witness to value of sport, because of the many negative faces of sports in recent weeks. Denny McLain, a former Cy Young award winner, has been sentenced to jail for racketeering among other things; Joe Pepitone, once a New York Yankee, has been arrested on charges of drug possession; the basketball program at Tulane University has been abandoned because of a gambling scandal, and a grand jury in Pittsburgh has investigated possible drug contacts with professional athletes. Sports was once proclaimed a totally positive influence on people, but now there is the leveling awareness that sports do not redeem all who play them. Still, lives are transformed by dedicated coaches, sharp competition, proper recruiting and scholarships, and the right doors opening. Successful Athletes There is Fletcher Johnson, the former Duquesne basketball player, now a cardiologist in Nyack, N.Y.; Wilbert McClure, the 1960 Olympic boxing champion, now a psychologist in Boston; Larron Jackson, the former guard with the Denver Broncos and Atlanta Falcons, now a minister at a major church in Brooklyn, and there is Estes, the opera singer from Centerville. His grandfather had been born a slave in the south; his father had migrated from Missouri to work the coal mines of Iowa, and Estes learned to sing in the Second Baptist Church. He played all the sports, and was thrilled to be able to high jump 6 feet 2 inches, 1 inch higher than his own height, "which I thought was pretty amazing at the time." His main sport was basketball. He believes he was one of the best players in town for his age, but not every coach let him start. "My junior varsity coach, Bill Jerome, didn't have a prejudiced bone in his body," Estes says. "He taught me to give 110 percent, particularly on defense. He knew that was where games were won. But I also learned that sometimes 100 percent was not enough." Games with Friends Working as an assistant janitor while in high school, Estes would let his friends into the gym on Saturday, which nearly got him dismissed but for the intercession of the superintendent, E.W. Fannon. He received a small athletic grant at Iowa, but played only as a freshman. After that, with academic aid and a full-time job, he was a pre-med major for three years, a theology major for a year, and a social psychology major for three more years, accumulating credits and integrating the university's Old Gold singers. One day his voice teacher, Charles Kellis, took him aside and played records "by Caruso, Leontyne Price, Eileen Farrell, and I loved them, absolutely loved them. I had no doubt after that what I wanted to do." It has not been easy. European audiences would accept a black man singing a duet with a white woman more readily than American audiences would, and Estes has accumulated most of his experience abroad. "I'm sure it was the same way in sports back then," he says. "If we're equal, you get the job. If I'm a little better, you get the job. If I'm a lot better, I get the job -- and they under pay me. It's getting better now. I'm not a bitter person, but just as in sports, there are few black agents, critics, conductors or members of management." Since his debut at the Met in 1982, Estes and his wife, Yvonne Baer, a teacher and native of Switzerland, and his two daughters have bought a home in New Jersey. He keeps up with American sports via the International Herald Tribune wherever he is, and the other day he and his favorite coach, Bill Jerome, shot some baskets out in Centerville while filming a documentary for a West Berlin television crew. "It felt good to handle the ball again," said Estes, who tries to exercise via walking and isometrics. He also watches his diet because he is staring 200 pounds in the face, and does not smoke or drink -- lessons he learned from his early days in sports. "In music we say, 'You sing on the interest, not on the principal,'" Estes says. "that means you've got some basic ability and you learn to invest it, to have your reserve. But I still give 110 percent, and I'm always prepared for every performance. "Bill Jerome, my coach, taught me that."