Charlotte Church isn't
the first person to sing "Ave Maria." She's not the first
to do it in front of millions of people. She is, however, one of the
only classical vocalists, ever, to proclaim herself a fan of the
Spice Girls. She's
also just dying to do a collaboration with Will Smith and Putt
Daddy.
Now, give her a break.
Charlotte turned 13 last month. It's been just 10 years since she
learned to sing at all, by warbling along to Billy Idol's "Mony
Mony" on the family stereo in Cardiff, Wales.
But
Charlotte is working in a whole different world these days. She's
working the world, to be exact, felling nation after nation as she
introduces her very grown-up soprano to the multitudes.
"It's pretty
bizarre," she says. "Because it's kind of like,
everything's going so well, something has to go wrong some
time."
Meanwhile, things are
going quite well: Her debut album, "Voice of an Angel" is
double platinum in Great Britain, where it rose to No.4 on the pop
chart. She has performed for the pope and Prince Charles, even
George Michael, for heaven's sake. And
now it's America, where the album Ñ a collection of lullabies and
standards ("Panis Angelicus," "Danny Boy") Ñ
debuted No. 28 on Billboard's albums chart in March. After six weeks
it's at No.57 but has been certified gold in the United States.
"We're all going
around very happy," says Charlotte, who speaks with a brisk,
feverish energy.
If a bubbly personality
were ever threatening, this one is it. It threatens to bounce
through the phone and get pink sparkles all over you
She has
heard all the questions a gazillion times, including the one about
how she got her start. She offers her version in a rat-a-tat-tat
delivery just this side of sassy: "Well, it started when I was
8 ...," her staccato story begins, leading into the part where
her aunt got Charlotte onto a TV talent show. Producers were
thrilled by her precocious rendering of "Pie Jesu" from
Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Requiem" and invited her back.
Soon Sony namely,
British chief Paul Burger, who'd helped Celine Dion get her break Ñ
had her in its scope, and within a year Charlotte was signed to a
six-figure, multi-album contract. In
January, as it prepared to stage its stateside marketing assault,
the label was host of a private showcase in New York for U.S. music
executives. Harmony House executive vice president Jerry Adams was
there.
"The president of
Sony came out onstage and said, 'Turn off your pagers, turn off your
phones you're in for quite a treat,'" he recalls.
"This small girl proceeded to bound out, arms full of teddy
bears, and began singing in this incredible voice."
And there's the hook:
that voice, coming from that little voice box. While it has charmed
the socks off casual listeners, some in the classical community have
bemoaned Charlotte's rise, citing potential damage to her adolescent
vocal cords.
As for critics, they've
straddled the fence. In a day when classical singers have become
something of a pop phenomenon see Andrea Bocelli they wonder
how much of the fuss is all about Charlotte's age.
She says she's not
offended.
"Oh, no, not at
all," she says. "I'm a kid and there's no getting away
from that I've got a lot of growing up to do yet. I never get
insulted. If I was 16 and singing like tilts, nobody would be paying
attention."
Charlotte loves her pop
music other faves include All Saints, Alanis Morissette and
the Corrs but don't bank on her steering her operatic voice
there.
"l don't think you
could really dance to 'Panis Angelicus,'" she says, giggling.
by
BRian
McOLLUM, Kansas City Star
