Tom Bennignus, who sang opera productions in Cincinnati and lieder at
Salzburg and elsewhere with the renowned pianist Jrg Demus, died on
Saturday, February 9, 2008.

I knew Tom for the last 28 years of his life. He was not only an excellent tenor
and a wonderful musician, but that true rarity among performers, a modest
and genuine person. At one point in the late 1980s, tenor John Alexander sent
him to his agent in New York to audition. The agent liked Tom’s voice but was
dismayed that he was a light lyric tenor (the quality of his voice was often
described as being “like a fine port wine”). He wanted Tom to expand his voice
and sing lyric-spinto roles. Tom came running back to Cincinnati and never
pursued a path to fame thereafter. He did perform in a Mass at the Vatican in
the early 1990s, where Pope John Paul II (Tom’s words) “held my hands and
blessed me for the voice God gave me, but as I said to the Pope, it was God
who sang ‘through’ me, and not me.”

Back around 1978 he was one of a dozen singers chosen to participate in a
master class given in Germany by Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau. Everyone who
participated arrived early, settled into their hotel rooms and were psyched up,
but when the time came, Fischer-Dieskau cancelled due to contractual
obligations. The other singers picked up their wounded pride and returned to
their countries. Tom was not put off so easily. He tracked Fischer-Dieskau
down to his own hotel room, went to see him, sang for him and insisted on
receiving a signed certificate for his time and money spent. To his credit,
Fischer-Dieskau laughed and complained of what the promoters had done with
this master class, and gracefully complied to Tom’s request. Further to his
credit, he arranged for Tom to be heard by one of his own favorite
accompanists, Jцrg Demus, who accompanied Tom in many lieder recitals.

I remember one of those recitals at Cincinnati’s Memorial Hall in the mid-1980s.
He was nervous but, once settled in, magnificent; unfortunately, the recital
took place in the winter, and Memorial Hall’s ancient hot-air heating system
kept the ole pipes bangin’ all through the concert! It didn’t distract either
artist, but it sure was a distraction to us in the audience.

One of Tom’s local opera performances was in the world premiere of Henry
Humphreys’ “Sea-Thorn.” It was scarcely a masterpiece but, as usual, Tom
gave it his all. Humphreys never could get over “the nine high Cs” that Tom
sang in his opera without a hitch. Another of his performances came at the
Peterloon Summer Opera Festival in an opera based on the biblical
story, “Judith.” For this, he wore a long robe that he was afraid he would trip
in on stage. I gave him the advice, “Lift your train as you walk, and go
SLOWLY!” It worked.

After his beloved wife Leah died of cancer in 1996, Tom lost his voice due to
the intense emotional strain and, retiring from his job as a clerk in the court
system, eventually went to Russia to work with the poor and indigent,
particularly children. He stayed there until a couple of years into the Vladimir
Putin regime, then returned to the United States at the end of 2006.

I last saw him on New Year’s Day 2007. He looked older but quite fit. We both
promised to see each other again, but it never happened. He spent a few
months helping his sister Janet teach school down in Texas. A persistent and
undiagnosed backache problem eventually led to a series of tests which
revealed lung cancer; he never smoked. It had metastasized to his spine
which was putting him in constant violent pain.

He was put on the fast track for chemotherapy, but it was too late. I spoke
to him on the phone on January 26, six days before his first chemo treatment
was scheduled, and he sounded upbeat and positive. I e-mailed him a few
days later and he wrote back. That was the last time we communicated.

His funeral will be held on Thursday, February 14--ironically, Valentine’s Day.
It will be a small and quiet service with only family invited. He would have
appreciated that.

I will miss him dearly.

As the flowers that will be at the funeral will say: “Una furtiva lagrima”, and I
shed that tear for him.

Monique