YAPs: Golden Gateways or Revolving Doors??

Confession time: I was never in a Young Artist Program. Not one. Back in the early '90s, when I was starting out, countertenors weren't exactly the belle of the ball. In fact, most programs wouldn't even let us in the door for an audition. My career, instead, took off rather quickly (whether I was ready for it or not), and before I could catch my breath, I was singing leading roles on some very big stages. Trial by fire, as they say.

To my knowledge, the first countertenor who actually did make it into a YAP was my dear colleague Brian Asawa, who joined San Francisco Opera as an Adler Fellow in 1992. Brian was blazing trails while the rest of us were still trying to get someone to take us seriously.

What I admired in those days was how programs truly invested in their singers. It wasn't just "come sing a few comprimario roles and good luck." These companies were nurturing artists. They gave their YAP singers small roles, covers for big ones, and - this was key - future engagements. Houses like San Francisco, Santa Fe, Glimmerglass, Houston, Lyric Opera of Chicago... they make it clear: "We believe in you, and we're sticking with you." Imagine being a young singer and having access to some of the great conductors, coaches, directors, and administrators in the world. That was gold.

Fast forward to today. I'll admit, I'm not in the trenches with opera houses the way I once was, so perhaps I'm a little out of date. But from where I sit, as a teacher and mentor, I've noticed a shift.

Here's the rub: when a house accepts a singer into its Young Artist Program, it's making a promise. You saw something in this young singer that made you say "yes." Wonderful! Now the real work begins: mentorship, guidance, support. Because let's face it - not every singer is "easy." Personalities can clash. Nerves can unravel. Voices sometimes misbehave. That's the messy, beautiful reality of young artists finding their footing in this very unforgiving business.

But too often, I've seen companies shrug off the more complicated singers - the ones who require extra patience - and simply move on to the next "easier" option. And sometimes, worse still, they'll quietly poison the well, warning other houses not to touch a particular singer. I have personally witnessed this, and let me tell you, it's not only petty - it's cruel.

Now, no one's asking opera administrators to double as therapists (though goodness knows we could all use one from time to time). But there's a world of difference between ignoring a struggling singer and saying, "Here are some resources, here's a coach who understands, here's a way forward." The goal should be to help singers evolve into the very artists you believed in when you hired them.

So, are Young Artist Programs worth it? Absolutely. They can be extraordinary stepping stones when run with real care and vision. I encourage my students to audition for them, and I cheer them, and I cheer them on when they succeed. But my plea is this: if you've chosen a singer for your program, don't toss them aside at the first sign of difficulty. Honor your commitment.

After all, these singers are not disposable. They are the future of opera. And opera, if it is to remain alive and relevant, needs every ounce of talent, creativity, and individuality it can get.

And for the record, no Young Artist Programs were harmed in the writing of this blog. A few egos, maybe - but not the programs.