One of my earliest memories as a child was when I was 4 years old, giving a presentation to my grandparents about the demo songs that came with a cheap electric keyboard my family had purchased before I was born. It was a small, flimsy plastic contraption that my dad used for making midi files when he composed, but it came a few pre-recorded tracks to show off what the keyboard could - or couldn’t - do. I was mesmerised. Press the yellow demo button, and the piano would start playing through its 9 songs, from Bach to some vibey synth String chords, and those songs would speak to me, personally. I still remember them! I was convinced that the keyboard’s rendition of Bach’s second Goldberg Variation was about a trip to a swimming pool in Mississauga that my parents had taken me on (and I remain convinced). I dragged my grandparents - only one of whom spoke English - down to the basement to lecture on the real meaning of each one of those pieces. They agreed with me re. the swimming pool, and I was content.

Many years later, that’s still what I’m doing. I studied singing for my Bachelors, for my masters, and then for a second masters because always deep down was the overwhelming need to share with the world this incredible music and the meaning of it that was so close to my heart. And it certainly didn’t come easy! Musicians all know the feeling well: there is nothing more frustrating than knowing how you want the music to sound, but being unable to play it or sing it that way. Many an F-bomb has been dropped in the hallowed practice room halls of Music departments across the world. But with each small improvement, with each hour of practice, a little more beauty enters the world, and I came a little closer to being able to realise the music that I heard and felt inside. And my goodness to sing Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Bach, Verdi… Music so sublime and so meaningful, that connects us all together into that one grand story of humanity at its best.

I sing, and some of these days, I do get it right. The music in my heart joins with the music being made, and the world is whole. My agent will tell you that I’m very talented. Depending on the day, audiences and critics will sometimes agree.

I sing in concerts, I sing in opera productions, I sing in theatres and concert halls and churches and city halls, and to the chagrin of my neighbours, often in the shower to warm up for a performance. But I sing - and I do my best to connect with the music and the people. Always that.

Two very different cultures! As a half German, half Canadian, I’ve always been somewhat been between worlds when it comes to identity and work. I grew up in Canada and completed my studies at the University of Toronto and McGill University, and in 2020 I moved to Germany to start my Master Oper at the HMDK Stuttgart. Since then I’ve been living and working in Germany, and, though I speak German fluently, doing my best to master the never-ending intricacies of that beautiful and terrifying language.

(Pro tip: if you ever need to cry on stage, just think of the Dative case. Why does the feminine start using the“Der” prefix???)

Germany has an incredible infrastructure for the arts, and there is such an immediacy of meaning when everyone around you can understand the language that you’re singing in!

Although I visit Canada whenever possible my career is currently based full time in Germany.

For me, making music is about community and connection. We’re all in this together! And most importantly, it’s not at all about me. The purpose of making music is to connect with you the listener, and music allows me to do this at the deepest level. I may be the one walking on stage, singing, and portraying a character - but I am there to make art that you relate to. To make music that allows you to feel heard, you to feel understood.

My most fulfilling experiences are those where I have seen people moved and transformed by the music being made, and when I’ve known that the work I’ve been doing has helped make their lives a little richer, a little better. When I do my job to its fullest, then I am making music that, ultimately, tells the audience their own story.

And what a story that is.