Baritone Troy Cook couldn’t have imagined the impact his voice would have on the globe. When he’s not teaching voice at Seton Hall University, “a nice Jersey school,” he’s traveling around the world performing in opera houses where all the greats have sung. Playing everything from a marquis to a pauper, a military officer to the husband of a madwoman. Maybe a couple of those. Cook started working with Opera Philadelphia in the mid-2000s and it’s been a love affair ever since.
The first time I saw you perform with Opera Philadelphia was in Elizabeth Cree. What an amazing show that was. We were just blown away by the surprise ending.
Troy Cook: Right. Isn’t it a great show? It’s starting to get done more. They’re doing it at the Glimmerglass Festival this summer, so that’s exciting for Kevin Puts, the composer, who I actually went to Eastman [School of Music] with back in the day. It’s nice to see him doing so well and creating amazing work.
You talked about creating the character for that show since it was brand new. It must be exciting to be able to mold a character from scratch.
TC: First and foremost, it’s an honor when you get chosen and someone trusts you with their characters. I guess maybe it depends on the the composer/librettist team as to how much of your opinions about things matter. But I find that I’ve been through the workshop process of multiple shows and it’s always exciting. I remember with Silent Night, which is the work that Kevin Puts won the Pulitzer Prize for, and we got to the very end of the show, and you just knew there was a feeling in the room that something incredible had just been born. Do you know what I mean? That feeling is incredible to be a part of because it must be like the first time they read through, you know, a great Verdi opera. It renews my hope for the future of opera. These new works are high quality, and companies are investing the time, effort, and money into ensuring their premier is the best it can be.
I’ve been very lucky to do a lot of premieres in my time, like The Listeners, which is coming up in Philly in the fall. I was part of the First Act workshop when no one’s ever heard this music before, including the composer and the librettist. So, you’re sitting there, delivering to them for the first time! The cool part about being a part of that, and this is true with Elizabeth Cree, is you get to be a part of the discussion of who these characters are. Especially with The Listeners, because it’s all original material. Often operas are based on something; be it a short story or a painting or something. There’s some sort of source material. But The Listeners is completely original, which just doesn’t happen very often. I know in my conversation with Missy [Mazzoli, composer] she said she’s always been fascinated by Cult Culture, which is what the central theme is about, the cult.
We live in that sort of world these days. It seems like, however they’re born, they are certainly, if nothing else, enticing and interesting.
TC:: Yeah, and the reason it’s called The Listeners is because the unifying part of the cult is that the people hear this constant humming in their head and they can’t figure out what it is, and it gets to the point of driving them crazy, driving them to lose their jobs. Driving them almost to madness.
I play Claire’s husband. Her daughter and I are worried that there’s something mentally not right because we don’t hear the sound.
You mentioned that you’re playing her husband, are there any roles for gay men in opera or is it only new stuff?
TC: Sure. Yeah, there’s some in newer works. There are also standard pieces that sometimes get sort of a gay twist, like La Bohème. Sometimes directors play that there’s really a romantic relationship between Schaunard and Colline. They’re not just the philosopher and the musician but actually a couple. This tragedy brings them together and they realize they love each other that way.
There’s the opera, Fellow Travelers, about being gay in the McCarthy era. Which is a newer piece by Gregory Spears with amazing music. You get to see the trials and tribulations of a gay couple, basically in the closet during the McCarthy era, and experience their closeness and their love, but at the same time, the oppressive environment in which they were trying to understand each other and understand what was going on with themselves.
And there’s also an opera that’s been done a lot, it’s two characters with a string quartet accompaniment, called As One. I don’t know if you know this one, but I think the libretto was by someone who’s transgender and it’s a mezzo and a baritone and they sort of switch halfway through the piece, as the transition happens. It’s a genius way to sort of allow a window for people who don’t necessarily understand what that path is like for someone. It’s a musical way to take that journey with someone. I think it might be one of the most performed new works in the United States.
Where were you raised?
TC: I was born and raised in Kentucky in a very small town of about 2,000 people. I had 33 kids in my high school graduating class. It was a public school, K through 12 in one building, so a very small environment.
I wasn’t out during high school and even when I went to a small liberal arts college called Center College in Danville, Ky., a great school. I feel like I got an amazing education there, but it was still small. There were a thousand students in the entire student body. Coming out back then, especially in Kentucky, was tricky. I had a classmate who came out and it just didn’t go well for him. I decided to stay where I was.
My father was very ill my senior year, and they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. They were running test after test after test and finally I said to my mom, “Have they tested him for HIV?” She’s like, why would they do that? This was in 1992–93. She talked to the doctor and said, just test him for that too. Well, lo and behold he was diagnosed with full blown AIDS.
So, my coming-out story has a lot to do with that. I think my dad might have been gay as well. But you know at the time you just didn’t. You didn’t. You sort of lived that lie your whole life. I know he loved my mom. I know he loved us, and that situation doesn’t change any of that.
When I went to graduate school, I was able to be myself. But I have to say though, I made coming out for myself easier. I moved to a place where people had never met me before. I didn’t have to let anyone down or change anyone’s mind because these were all new people to me, and I was going to a music school. I felt like it was just easier, you know, and music school’s an environment where people are typically more open about being gay.
My advice to people who are coming out now? I feel like I tried to make a clean break, which now I regret because I feel like I left all those relationships that I had built through my college years, high school years too. I feel like I cut them all off for my own comfort. I recommend doing the hard thing. Tell your friends. Be yourself. I have great friendships and relationships from graduate school, but I just sang in Kentucky back home, and I made a huge effort to rekindle and reconnect with a lot of my friends from college. I’m so glad I did, because at the end of the day none of them cared.
Nobody cares anymore. Maybe that day, if you told them back then it might have been different. But now, I guess in a way we’ve given our friends the time to evolve, sort of, and for us to understand that the world is not our little towns of two or four thousand people. The world is a much bigger place than that, and there’s room for all of us.
Was there a particular person or moment when you were in the music program that you’re, like, I want to do classical music? This is where my heart is, this is my thing.
TC: Yeah, for sure. Coming from a small school, we did everything. I was in the band, I was in the chorus, I was the statistician for the girls softball team. I mean, coming from a small school kind of requires you to do multiple things. I was on the academic team, so I had a lot of extracurriculars. There was something that came in the mail to my band director for the Governor’s School for the Arts, and it was the first year that Kentucky was offering such a program, and I thought that seems kind of cool. I love music. I can play the piano and sing. So, I decided to audition, and I sang a music theater piece. Everyone was singing something classical, something in a different language. I’m like, what’s that? One of the 24 Italian songs and Arias, the beginner singer’s bible? I sang “Memory” from Cats.
Luckily there was one music teacher who I’m still in touch with on Facebook, who said to the board, I don’t care who you choose, but I want the boy in the red suspenders because it was the ‘80s and I was wearing red suspenders at my audition. I think with a royal blue button-down shirt. I was super color-block ‘80s fashion, with an armful of friendship bracelets and all kinds of stuff. It was that experience where I sang an aria for the first time. It kind of sparked an interest in foreign languages for me. So, when I went to college, I minored in German, and I learned to speak German, which I still speak now. Which you know has come in handy when I perform in Germany. It was that experience. Hats off to the Governor’s School for really opening my eyes to what’s available. I ended up staying with the voice teacher that I worked with at the Governor’s School for the Arts through high school.
When I went to college I wanted a liberal arts education, but I think I was too green. My voice teacher at Center was great, and I connected with her, so while my voice was still maturing, I could learn what I needed to but also educate my mind. I feel like at the end of the day, I use that education. That’s what informs my artistry, fills me up as an artist, and allows me perspective on all the music. It makes me an independent thinker. Right now, it’s all STEM. You have to decide what you want to be when you’re a junior in high school and you have to put your head down and do that thing.
What’s your dream role?
TC: I feel like I’ve already gotten this dream because I sang Rodrigo in Don Carlos at Opera Philadelphia with Corrado Rovaris, whom I adore. Corrado’s been very, very good to me over the years and giving me some fantastic opportunities where he kind of fought for me to sing this role in Don Carlos. Which I think, of all the roles I’ve learned, I feel like in the back of my head that Verdi had my voice in mind for this role because I’d never really learned anything that fits right in my sweet spot so well. There’s no part of the role where I feel like I must compromise this part of the role to make sure that that part of the role is great. Don Carlos is just amazing work. It’s so beautifully written, kind of late Verdi, and you can tell in the music that Verdi has learned all the things. You know what I mean? The way he sets the scene and tells the story in this opera, it’s just genius. It’s very different from his early work, which is also amazing, but there’s a maturity about it that serves the story so well. I feel like that role was great, really great.
I’ve been very lucky with my time with Opera Philadelphia. My first thing was in 2006, and I sang Marcello in La Bohème, and that was the first year that David Devan came in as managing director. He wasn’t general director then. David and I have basically gone through our development at Opera Philadelphia together. I’ve been Marcelio in four Bohème’s. Bohème is one of my desert island operas. It’s just a perfect show. Five minutes into the show, once Schaunard comes on, everybody loves these people. The way the characters are crafted it’s genius. It’s unmistakable and you know those people. We all have Schaunards in our life and we have Musettas in our lives. We can relate immediately to those people on stage.
If you could speak to anybody past or present, who would it be and what would you ask?
TC: Maybe it would be Verdi and I’d ask him if he could write more music like Don Carlos for me. It goes back to the favorite role. If there’s more music he can write that’s exactly like that, that I could sing, I would just be so happy.
