Audrey Stottler -in memoriam

This is not how I wanted to start the LOVS blog. Early this week my voice teacher and dear friend, Audrey Stottler, passed away very suddenly.

Her extensive experience onstage, her ability to see and solve problems, her insatiable curiosity and her personal integrity have richly benefited those of us who are fortunate enough to be part of her life.

Audrey knew what life is like for a singer with an international career. She understood the demands that kind of life makes on anyone with the talent and drive to sing professionally. There was no self aggrandizing, only lessons from her experience to be applied to her students’ efforts to succeed. Audrey did not believe in legacy. She did not sing to become famous. She sang to serve the music that filled her with so much joy.

A life of managing both vocal and business skills required Audrey to look at life as a process of problem solving. If she needed to know something, she kept searching until she found it. She tried 17 voice teachers before she found the one who could take her to the level required to sustain healthy and dramatically engaging performances night after night. Their fruitful work together went on until his death thirty years later.

Work was Audrey. She taught me more about work than anyone. Her intense discipline and her clear identification of goals brought her great success as a singer and later, as a teacher. It has been a huge benefit just to watch her work. 

Audrey was a life-long learner. She spent  years talking about singing with her famous colleagues around the world. She knew how different types of voices manage technical challenges because she heard it from the most elite performers in the world–both on and off stage. She studied the writings and listened to recordings of great singers of the past. She was completely fluent in the technical language of singing. And, if she came upon something she didn’t understand, she kept digging until it was clear.

Audrey was an absolute delight– honest, trustworthy, loving, real, and joyful. She loved to laugh and her smiles will remain with me as long as I live (along with the image of her ‘belly button’ and ‘suction cup’ lips).

She will leave a huge void in the lives of anyone who had the privilege of working with her.

May God bring comfort, rest and hope to her husband, Jon, and their son, Nic.