Jeanne Madsen

Jeanne Madsen is enchanting—her voice, sonorous and complete. And though stentorian when needed, her song has the quality of a whisper passed from sultry lips pressed close to lonely ears. Only a voice informed by lavish experience could sing such a song, but this popera chanteuse had humble beginnings. Madsen was raised in Provo, Utah­—home to Brigham Young University—a suburban escape surrounded by vast mountains, lake and desert. There, her father had his own jazz band and her mother taught junior high school orchestra. From her earliest years, an enthusiastic Madsen thrived on exposure to music, and she would mimic the voices of classical and popular artists that she discovered. Upon hearing nine-year-old Madsen rehearse with a precocious vibrato Mozart’s The Queen of the Night Aria, a fellow church congregant was the first to encourage her to enroll in voice lessons. From this point Madsen buoyantly devoted study to full-scale opera under the tutelage of many professionals, and her parents consistently nurtured her skill.

Jeanne Madsen is luminous. Her mezzo-soprano voice has, since her youth, entranced. She pronounced, “In order to entertain, you have to be a student of human nature.” Madsen has certainly given her time and care to this study. Her presence of voice when performing will quiet noisy pool halls, busy streets or apathetic crowds in the most discriminating of venues. After graduating high school, she was compelled to choose between her passions of art and singing. She chose to pursue training in opera, and bravely moved to New York City to study under famed vocal teacher Andy Anselmo. Commenting on her long-held affinity for opera, Madsen confessed, “That’s the kind of music that I even inspire myself when I sing it.” Anselmo, who has instructed icons such as Liza Minnelli, Tony Bennett and Mandy Patinkin, was an essential mentor for Madsen. After his instruction, she continued to pursue her studies in Los Angeles under Seth Riggs, former teacher of Josh Groban. Madsen currently appreciates instruction from Dean Kaelin.

Jeanne Madsen is passionate. When performing, her audience makes her all that she is. This reason compels her to continue singing: that she has seen on her listeners’ faces what they hear in her voice. An exchange of vicarious emotion impassions her. And for an audience, her emotion on stage is consent to feel along with her. For her first headlining concert at the Covey Center in her hometown Provo, Madsen performed in pagliaccio costume and makeup. “I’m a pretty melancholy person, a reflective person; the image of the clown is basically a trope of my personality,” she explained. The classical conception of clowns is of performers who will make people happy, though the clowns themselves endure unbelievable personal turmoil. For Madsen, the chance to enliven a crowd is a chance to create and borrow happiness. She is, though, also in the industry of tears. And where there are already tears, her song is the soothing that glad ears tell to desperate, swollen eyes. No stranger to the occasional ugliness of life, Madsen creates music that ignores none of it, but magnifies the beauty.

Jeanne Madsen is a classical crossover singer. She is fluent in many languages, and has authored eloquent Italian lyrics for four songs that have been recorded and fully orchestrated through the expertise of British Composer Alan Hawkshaw. Madsen frequently performs locally, and she twice was honored to participate in the Utah Valley Symphony’s Youth Artists performances. In Las Vegas, she featured for three seasons as soloist of the Red Mountain Music Company. At Ottavio’s Ristorante Italiano in her hometown, over the course of seven years, she would regularly perform an entire concert’s worth of classical material in a night. She has also busked the streets and subways of New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Britain and Italy. Madsen concluded, summarizing her ability and motivation, “I want to sing for people because it makes them happy.” Her audience response, in fact, transcends happiness—her distinctive voice is the auspicious sublime. Jeanne Madsen rests in music; hers is the expression of joy, tears and memories otherwise caught in the medium of silence.

By Amy Wilson

Former copy chief of The College Times, Utah Valley University
Past contributing editor to Touchstones magazine of literature and art and Warp and Weave speculative fiction journal, Utah Valley University