Did they know?

I was at a wedding the other day and the background music was heavy rat-pack. Lots of Frank, Dino, and Sammy. Listening to the mellow voice of Dean Martin, someone asked me (since I was a singer, probably not assuming I knew Dean) if he knew his gift was special and that he should take care of it.

My mind quickly went to Giuseppe DiStefano, the poster-child for abusing one's natural gift. I've recently been listening to a 1962 recital, in which one can detect the remains of his pretty remarkable sound in the middle of his voice. The top however, is little more than a yelp.

From all I've read, DiStefano knew he had a great voice, but didn't much care to coddle it. As John Culshaw wrote: "the eventual, almost total breakdown of his voice...was attributable to a life-style he could not abandon because it meant more to him than singing." In the late forties and early fifties it was remarkable and even so jaded a critic as Rudolf Bing marveled at the diminuendo he could manage on the high C in Faust. But a long lasting career was not meant to be and despite well intentioned, but misguided attempts to revive his career in later years, by the early 60s, it was all gone.

As for Dino, I don't know. I can't imagine one takes such a voice for granted. My guess is that the ability to resist the temptations that might be detrimental to one's vocal longevity is a function of one's personality and general life outlook, more than the recognition that you are the possessor of something truly special.

After all, despite opinions to the contrary, a singer is only human.