His name was Jeffrey Robinson. He was my first vocal coach. At the age of 5, I belted out the signature showtune from “Annie” and soon became my grandmother’s favorite parlor trick. “Sing it again, Sharon!” “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow! You’re only a dayyyyyyyy a wayyyyyyyyyyyy.”
Trouble is, I knew one way to sing, loud and louder. I would have made Ethel Merman proud. Then, came Jeffrey. He took me under his wing when I was 13. He helped me not only sing the song, he helped me to feel the song.
“I want you to take the lyrics of this song. Line by line and make it a monologue.” I didn’t understand until he made me feel the lyrics and then put them to song. When I sang the lyrics, I had color to them. They were not one dimensional anymore. It wasn’t about hitting that note or any not perfectly. It was about finding that cracking on a note due to emotion and tears, can be imperfectly perfect. He helped me find authenticity in developing my instrument not just the sound of it, but learning how to express myself thru song.
I became Jeffrey’s model student. “Don’t just sing the notes,” he would lose patience with others. “Sharon, can you show them how to feel the song?” I actually felt shy and embarrassed to do so. However, he always encouraged me.
One day I asked Jeffrey what he was eating as it looked like seaweed. This was around the year 1985. He told me it was a macrobiotic diet. He was terribly thin as is and I didn’t understand why he was dieting.
He would then be out for some lessons. When he came back, I noticed he lost more weight and was now developing brown spots on his hands and one on his beautiful face. I dare not ask and he didn’t say.
The last lesson I had with him, we did a duet together. We both ended up crying and singing and crying. He then stood up before me and hugged me and took both shoulders and said to me, “You have a big talent. Yes your voice but I am talking about your ability to bare your soul. It is a gift. Use it well.”
I never got to see Jeffrey again. He went into hospice and passed from AIDS soon after.
I dedicated so many performances and shows in honor of Jeffrey Robinson. He was a great teacher of mine. He taught me truth. He taught me how to express myself thru this thing we call musical theater arts.
Jeffrey is in my grief history. I am honored that he came into my world to teach me authenticity and the courage to be my “self”!
