Faith was born and raised in Vanceburg, Kentucky, the daughter of Elwood Esham, a physician. She attended and graduated from Mount Vernon Academy in Ohio and then enrolled at Columbia Union College, now Washington Adventist University, as a psychology major.

After graduating from CUC in 1970, Esham enrolled at the Juilliard School of Music, where she completed a master's degree, studying with noted teachers Adele Addison, Beverly Johnson, and Jennie Tourel. Although initially her voice was classified as a mezzo, it quickly became apparent that she not only had a strong low and middle range but also an equally impressive high extension.

She made her operatic debut in 1977, singing the role of Cherubino in The Marriage of Figaro at NYC Opera and then debuted three years later in Europe as Nedda in Nancy. The following year she won the Concours International de Chant in Paris and sang Cherubino at the Glydebourne Festival and again at La Scala in Milan.

In 1983 she played Micaela in a movie version of Carmen directed by Francesco Rosi with Julia Migenes and Placido Domingo playing Carmen and Don Jose, accompanied by the Orchestre National de France under the direction of Lorin Maazel. At the time of its release in 1984, the film was highly acclaimed and it was nominated in 1985 for the Golden Globe Award for Best Foreign Film. Esham earned a Grammy Award in 1984 as Principal Soloist, Best Opera recording for that year.

Appearances in major roles at the Vienna State Opera and at the Geneva Opera in 1984 led to her Metropolitan Opera debut as Marzelline in Fidelio in December 1986. Countless performances have been given in a variety of operatic roles since those initial experiences. She is known for her proficiency in singing in the languages associated with opera, including French, a particularly difficult one for operatic singing. Esham has performed a number of roles in Mozart's operas, including doing The Marriage of Figaro over one hundred times, and has observed that singing his music requires a mastery of doing it with a good legato.

Esham is an advocate for new works by contemporary composers. She particularly enjoyed doing Carlisle Floyd's Susannah, an opera set in the hills of Eastern Tennessee, because it was in a setting and society very similar to that which she had known as a child in Northern Kentucky.

A gifted and frequent recitalist, an experience she particularly enjoys, Esham enjoys meeting the challenges of singing art song. She is noted for the expressiveness, beauty, and clarity of her voice, and her musicality. She has appeared with numerous major orchestras as a soloist.

Like other Seventh-day Adventist singers who have pursued careers in opera, Esham has had to deal with the view held by some in the church that singing in opera is not compatible with being a "good" Adventist. Her loyalty to the church and its beliefs, participation in numerous church events throughout her career, and teaching as an adjunct faculty member at Atlantic Union College, however, challenge that assumption.

Esham, who is still active in all aspects of singing, has served as an adjunct assistant professor at Westminster Choir College in New Jersey since 2000.

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I have felt for a long time--and I still feel--that I live neither hither nor yon. How does one begin to live in my environment and have some peace in your heart? It's not easy. But I think that makes my religion very personal. I shouldn't say "personal" in the sense that nobody else can enter into it, but I mean, between me and my Maker I've always got that communication going. That's the thing that has to answer the questions for me.

I didn't initially think that the gift of my voice was something to earn a living by. You see, I was reared in a medical family. I thought for years I was going to be a doctor. I was never told that just because I have a talent for singing, it had to be developed into a career.

A lot of my Jewish friends, a lot of my Christian friends--we've discussed what having this talent means, how one reconciles some of the conflicts that come up. My minister back in Portsmouth, Ohio, said to me, "You're doing something that's just entertainment."

And I said, "Well, it's very interesting that you see it that way, or that a lot of people in this congregation see it that way." Because the question had been brought to him, "Is Faith still interested in being a member of the Seventh-day Adventist Church?"

And I said, "Yes I am. I still feel fundamentally that that is where I am. That is my home." And I said to the pastor, "It's interesting that you look upon performing as mere entertainment. Because I've had many people come to me after a performance with tears in their eyes and say, 'You moved me. You showed me something. I transcended something because of this music, because of the way it was performed, because of something you touched in my heart that lifted me, made me think of something new, brought me closer to my God.' Something was there that was a profound experience. It was not only amusement."

So the pastor and I of course got into this sort of metaphysical discussion. I said, "For me, it's not a moment of merely trying to make someone laugh, or to be something where they fritter away their evening and get gussied up for and come out and leave and go home and forget it. I hope to move them in a significant way. Now it doesn't always happen. But that is my goal."

Jerry Hadley, the tenor, once told me, "You know, Faith, maybe you can be a witness to Adventists."

Let's talk about your appearance here in Pittsburgh. You're doing all three female roles in the Tales of Hoffmann. Give me nutshell portraits of your characters.

Olympia is the love object of Monsieur Hoffmann. She is in fact a doll, created by a man, made to entice someone, and she does entice Hoffmann into falling in love with her. And through the work of a very ominous character, somber character, sometimes represented as the Devil, she is even given some life-likeness. And Hoffmann perceives her - because of glasses, because of the spell this ominous character can cast upon him - he perceives her as someone deemable of love.

The second character is Giulietta, a courtesan. But even worse than being a courtesan, in my opinion - because there are courtesans who have hearts of gold, who give vast amounts of money to help the right to be done - Giulietta is a very evil woman. She is a usurer, she is totally self-seeking, she has no real feelings other than for herself and her own aggrandizement.

The last character is a very pure one. Antonia is truly in love with her art. She is a singer. She is the daughter of a singer. And as she sings, she is dying of consumption. The singing itself causes her to die. The story implies that, because of the ominous character's presence - he forces her to sing, but also because of his force taking from her - more and more life is ebbing away. But she has a pure love for Hoffmann. She is a pure character. Their love is almost platonic. In fact, it is represented as platonic in this production.

They're quite diverse women.

They are. And putting aside the physical demands, isn''t there psychological stress? How do you absorb character? How do you keep from going schizophrenic doing these three parts?

I don't try to be detached, because then I wouldn't bring any real soul to it - any sense of my own soul. But I have an ability to focus on one thing at a time. As I'm doing that character, I just do it, and I don't think ahead.

Well, I remember in ear training class at Juilliard I'd make a mistake, and I'd start fussing and doing all these things that, number one, take energy, and number two, distract you mentally from going ahead and grasping the next task, which is reading the next interval, which is saying the next word, which is conveying the next idea. One of the things I've had to learn is the strict discipline of not letting yourself think ahead or behind - just to be in the moment. It's tough.

It's one character at a time. And when I've done Olympia, I immediately assume the body, the mental set perhaps, the . . . I don't know if I would say evilness of Giulietta . . . but I would say that I certainly begin to think of exhibiting myself, because I think that is what Giulietta lives her life for - to exhibit herself

There's so many ways of working. Of course I have to read the background material, whatever that may be. But, oh, I have done that so much, and found that to be a bit, ummm, misleading. Because, in fact, I have to represent what is in the music. You see? I mean, the music will give me the drama. It won't hurt to study the literature. But, I must always look at the music. Because, for instance, composers will alter a drama.

Your interest is in portraying the composer's representation of the character as opposed to whatever the literary inspiration may have been before . . .

Well, that's all the audience is going to see. They're not going to see what Shakespeare thought about Desdemona. They're only going to see what Verdi thought. You see what I mean? So I only have the moment that Verdi allows me to sing "O Salce! Salce!"

But I do first read the words - of course. And begin to say, all right, let me think about this now, what is she saying here, what are her goals as a character, what is she wanting for herself? But then I look at the musical demands. It's a multi-layered thing.

No. Oh no. No I don't. And often I have found that the ones I empathize least with I do the best at. [Laughs heartily.]

When I did Manon here, I didn't like her. I didn't like her goals. She's a very self-centered girl. I couldn't understand why she would not love this wonderful young man. I just didn't agree with her philosophically. Why is she doing this? It was very difficult for me.

One of the things I finally had to say was, "Quit the battle." 'Cause probably the truth is that all of us, somewhere in our heart of hearts, have these problems we have to deal with. And because of culture, philosophy of religion, whatever we may be influenced by, we try to weed out that which we don't like. We try to bring out only the best in ourselves, because we believe we're being led to someplace else.

But we all have times when we're self-centered, when we're looking out for our own interests. Sometimes that's healthy. Sometimes it is not healthy. So what I had to stop was the war. I had to say, "All right, let me be at peace with this."

Yes . . . and let me just play her. And let me trust the director here. Even though I don't like Manon's choices, it all resolves itself in the end. The opera shows that her ways do not lead her to happiness, do not lead her to be at peace with herself or with her beloved one; she dies at the end a wrecked woman, totally devoid of ever reaching any sense of honest happiness. All she knew was the glitz and the glamour and the big high life. She never knew real peace of mind.

I have to trust the audience, that they will be able to put the picture together.

Where do you feel more obligated - toward the composer and his intentions, or toward your audience?

Hmmm. Well, I'm dealing with another factor there. I'm dealing with a director. It is not just Faith Esham who gets up there and presents the composer. I have a director who imposes his or her structuring of the drama and his or her philosophy of how they see this. And so, then, my job is to follow that director, whose job was to do his or her homework, understand, make sense of it all, and come up with an approach to the piece. Sometimes that may be avant-garde. Sometimes it may be traditional. Sometimes it may be muddy. Then I have to come up with something - try to make sense of something that is not sensible.

One time I had to play Marguerite in Faust being in a psychiatric ward, and it was all flashbacks. Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. This production here in Pittsburgh is not new, but I think it is more in depth. I'm glad [director] Tito Capoblanco has taken a more traditional approach for my first essay into the realm of Hofftnann.

I'm very concerned with representing the composer's intent for the music. This music of Offenbach is so descriptive, it's almost pictoral. You can hear every turn, almost every moment of laughter that he wants. In the Giulietta scene where we laugh, the horns go bum bum bum bummm, and we're all going "Ha ha ha ha!" at the same time. It seems so obvious. But it takes a lot of time. You have to sit and think about what's going on in that score to get the colors of the drama.

I don't want to leave out the audience. In acting, I used to think I had to underline everything. But my job is to make the character clear. If I think she's really being evil, then by golly, be evil! If she doesn't have one iota of love for Hoffmann, play that.

When you do Manon, Giulietta, anyone - it's not Carol Neblett doing the part. At what point does Faith Esham's own character, if anywhere, come through even the most nasty characters you may play?

I've done Cherubino in Marriage of Figaro probably seventy times. Now, where does Faith Esham come in? I'm not a boy. I'm not fourteen years old anymore. Where do you bring my personality into that? It's the world of imagination, after all. A lot of people in my business have gotten confused about that.

Over what is real life. The only way one ever has that sense is to know yourself.

It's a danger anywhere. You have to ask, "Who am I?" One has to be a clear person. I don't try to suppress my personality and experience.

I think this is what I was trying to do with Manon. I was trying to make her too good. I didn't like her choices of going off to sleep with anybody. But my job in that particular

opera was to represent how low a human being could go. It wasn't to say, "Hey folks -this is what you're supposed to become."

There aren't many in my vocal category. By virtue of the fact that I'm a soprano, most of the characters I will be asked to sing are the good girls. The sweet little victims, mangled by fate.

You'll do an unsavory role if the outcome of the drama, morally, is best served by your accurate portrayal. But would you play even a good girl in an opera where the bad guys win?

I might. I don't know. I might. Sometimes I think it's important for us to look at the fact that the good guys don't always win.

I have a philosophy that says I believe there's a life after this world. I also believe that this world is going to get worse and worse and worse. That means the bad guys are going to win. Seemingly.

I've found myself sometimes trying to make limits, but I can't. I'm not that kind of person.

[Sigh.] It isn't for me. It isn't for me.

I want art to be something that makes people think, to be moved, to grapple with issues, that makes people maybe even to then have moments of release from those questions. I wouldn't want it to be one little thing.

From the Summer 1989 issue of