

This was the home of the Met, the greatest opera company in the country. At the far side of the square stood the opera hall. He climbed the broad steps to the Lincoln Center plaza and was surrounded by towering white stone columns that made him think of ancient stadiums-Olympians competing for Zeus’s pleasure and gladiators battling one another for survival. There was more gold in the lobby, lots of it: the shimmering antique frame of the huge mirror beside the elevators the austere silk curtains that rose three stories toward the vaulted ceiling the velvet of the deeply curved couches the abstract sculpture at the turn of the stairs.Įach time he left the lobby, passing under the hotel’s marquee and facing Lincoln Center, in the middle of New York City, he felt even less at home.

He didn’t belong in the hotel room they had booked for him, where the headboard was high and plush and the light was faintly gold. Here’s Green during a Met performance of “La Bohème”: Here & Now‘s Robin Young discussed Green’s past, and his burgeoning operatic career, with Green and Bergner at the Met, on a recent visit. And then, he turned his life around in ways he - and those around him - could scarcely have imagined. The African-American singer was born to poor parents, endured a violent childhood and was placed in juvenile detention before he reached his teens. New York Times review of the Metropolitan Opera’s “La Bohème” called him “a show stopper.”īut life for Green didn’t start out that way. Ryan Speedo is the bass-baritone taking the opera world by storm.
