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Chicago Tribune
3 days ago
- Politics
- Chicago Tribune
Christi Parsons: Abraham Lincoln's empathy is what our divided nation needs
In our era, they might seem like performative gestures for the president. A quiet visit with the wife of a wounded soldier. A conversation with a battlefield nurse or a kitchen worker. A hand extended to a Black woman who had once been enslaved. Abraham Lincoln didn't publicize these moments, though. He prioritized them for personal reasons. Because even as he held the Union together with the force of his will — even as he buried his own child and bore the weight of a nation at war — he made time for mercy. He listened to the voices of those without power, a practice that steeled him for wielding his own. Empathy is getting a bad rap these days. Elon Musk recently declared it the 'fundamental weakness' of Western civilization, summing up the ethos of the administration he just left. Even those who defend empathy speak of it mainly as a private virtue, not one that compels any particular action by public figures. But in the hands of a great leader, empathy can become a powerful political force. Whenever America has begun to fray — during war, depression, civil upheaval — the country has rallied behind a president who focused on the disenfranchised. If we're to survive our current crisis of division, our civic leaders need to do the same thing. And, as citizens, so do we. Maybe that's why Lincoln's name keeps rising in our conversations, as historians and storytellers nudge us in this direction. Lincoln is a figure in exhibits, podcasts and intellectual festivals this summer. The Metropolitan Opera is working to produce George Saunders' moving novel 'Lincoln in the Bardo,' a deeply empathetic portrayal of the 16th president. New scholarship further reveals a deeply sensitive and heartfelt man. In this modern moment of anxiety, they're showing the way to a better place — or at least the first step toward it. How did Lincoln cultivate the trait of empathy? Partly by surrounding himself with compassionate people. That's according to 'Loving Lincoln,' a new biography examining his story through the lives of the women who, despite their lack of franchise, were his key influencers. By his female relatives, Lincoln was nurtured into what his stepmother called 'the best boy I ever saw,' historian Stacy Lynn writes. Their stories 'offer evidence of Lincoln's kindness and sensitivity, his patience, his moral center, his social and political virtues, the breadth of his compassion, and his inspirational legacy.' By far, the deepest relationship of his life was with his wife, Mary, whose steely resolve helped bolster his commitment to freeing enslaved people. She was in favor of emancipation very early on, and she pressed her husband on the issue. The Lincoln White House became a place of mercy and goodwill, in no small part because of the compassion the president showed for his wife in her grief. He welcomed Black people to the White House. Mary Dines, who worked in the kitchen, urged Lincoln to visit the camps where newly freed families lived, and he went. Elizabeth Keckley, a formerly enslaved woman who became Mary Lincoln's dressmaker and confidante, called him 'kind and generous by nature.' Editorial: The idea of America, under stressLincoln also welcomed Frederick Douglass and Sojourner Truth. 'I never was treated by any one with more kindness and cordiality than were shown to me by that great and good man, Abraham Lincoln,' Truth said later. To meet the gaze of all these people, to shake their hands, to give them audience — these were not symbolic gestures. They were radical acts of inclusion by the leader who kept the Union intact. This is meaningful for us today, in our moment of deep national division. For those in office, the life of Lincoln is a guideline. He spoke publicly of the need for love and compassion. He surrounded himself with confidantes who embraced it. And he took action on it, ultimately assisting the emancipation of 4 million people from bondage. Elected officials today can do likewise. They can reject the dogma of hatred in discussing immigration. They can surround themselves with advisers who, even if they favor downsizing government, hold respect for public service and public servants. They can vote and act with care for those on the margins of society. But the work of public compassion isn't all on their shoulders. Each of us can train ourselves individually for compassion. A good first step is the one Lincoln modeled all his life. We can start today by using compassionate language, a practice that can lead to feeling it in the heart. Research shows language doesn't just express emotion — it can help shape it. Certain practices can actually increase activity in the neural networks that enhance empathy and emotional regulation. Showing empathy to others feels good, too. Compassion, as with charity, begins at home. Ultimately, though, we have a compassionate responsibility to one another. So what can we as individuals do to fulfill it? We can reach out to friends and family members with differing perspectives. We can try to talk, understand and share. We can reward kindness in those who seek our votes — this fall, next year and the two after that. We can help change the national tenor by changing our own. In the grand scheme of things, it was just a few years ago that Lincoln led our country through something much worse than the conflict we're now experiencing. His example feels even more relevant when we consider how powerfully his words land in our hearts today. He's telling us how to bind up the wounds of our nation, 'with malice toward none, with charity for all.' For the love of Lincoln, let's listen. Christi Parsons is a former Tribune White House correspondent and a longtime political journalist now on the faculty at the University of Maryland.

Boston Globe
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Gilda Cruz-Romo, soprano celebrated for her power, dies at 85
Critics focused on the natural way she used her voice to inject character into her roles. From a 1962 debut in her native Mexico, opposite Jon Vickers in Richard Wagner's 'Die Walkure,' to her final performances, 30 years later, in Manuel de Falla's 'El Amor Brujo' in Guadalajara, where she was born, she was celebrated for a big voice -- she could hit high Cs with perfect accuracy -- that was also capable of singing quite softly. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up At the Met, she sang alongside stars Sherrill Milnes in 'I Pagliacci,' Robert Merrill in 'La Forza del Destino,' and Plácido Domingo in 'Tosca,' under James Levine. Advertisement A 1974 performance in Turin in the title role of Giuseppe Verdi's 'Luisa Miller' was 'the aural equivalent of a Caravaggio painting,' critic Scott Barnes wrote in a 2008 profile in Opera magazine. He praised her 'masterful use of light and shadow to etch an indelibly unique human being,' wroting that she had a sound 'perfect for Verdi and Puccini.' Advertisement The daughter of a train conductor, Ms. Cruz-Romo came from 'humble beginnings,' her niece Guerra said in an interview. Quoted in the 2008 Opera profile, Ms. Cruz-Romo appeared slightly amazed in looking back at a career that had led her from the Mexican provinces to the operatic stage in New York, Milan, London, and Vienna. 'I mean, my God! Who has such luck? There was really no struggle in my career,' she told Barnes. 'I worked hard and prepared well, but the engagements came easily.' Ms. Cruz-Romo was Cio-Cio San in "Madama Butterfly" at the Metropolitan Opera in New York in 1981. METROPOLITAN OPERA/NYT Gilda Cruz was born Feb. 12, 1940, one of four children of Feliciano Cruz and Maria del Rosario Diaz. As a child, she 'loved to dress up and make believe all the time,' she told Barnes in 2008, recalling that she infuriated her mother by taking her antique bedspread so she could 'swirl that around me and pretend to be a queen.' She studied at the Mexico City Conservatory, sang with the choir of the Ballet Folklorico de Mexico, and made her debut under the composer-conductor Carlos Chavez with the Mexican National Symphony Orchestra in Heitor Villa-Lobos' 'Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5.' She immediately impressed critics in her native land. 'A young debutante with a very beautiful voice, and to whom we wish a brilliant future,' critic Rafael Solana wrote in Siempre! magazine in September 1962, after her debut in 'Die Walkure.' In 1968, after some six years with the National Opera of Mexico, she was hired to sing in Gaetano Donizetti's 'Anna Bolena' at the Dallas Opera (her husband, Roberto, was singing in the opera's choir). Advertisement From the beginning, the texture of Cruz-Romo's voice and its exceptional richness aroused critical enthusiasm. She made her New York debut at City Opera in October 1969, in the dual role of Margherita and Elena in Arrigo Boito's 'Mefistofele,' under Julius Rudel. For critic Peter G. Davis of The New York Times, she was 'a major discovery.' 'In soft passages, she produces a pianissimo of delicate, whispery beauty, and when the voice blooms up on top the effect is thrillingly brilliant,' Davis wrote -- although he did note a few 'technical flaws' in her voice production. In 1970, she won the top prize in the Metropolitan Opera National Council's regional audition and was immediately offered a contract by the company's general manager, Rudolf Bing. Later that year, Davis found her Butterfly to be 'a fascinating creation and potentially a great one,' adding that 'her voice is a thrilling instrument in itself, with a powerful thrust in the top register and an individual, bronzen timbre that communicates drama as well as the notes.' After retiring from the stage in 1990, Ms. Cruz-Romo became a voice professor at the University of Texas Austin. She held that position for about a decade, earning the gratitude of dozens of students. 'She was an encyclopedia of musical knowledge and lived experience,' her student Benjamin Watts wrote in a post on LinkedIn after her death, 'fundamentally devoted to the libretto of every masterpiece she performed.' Ms. Cruz-Romo leaves a sister, Sylvia Winter. Her husband, who had been her manager, died in 2018. Advertisement This article originally appeared in


New York Times
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Gilda Cruz-Romo, Soprano Celebrated for Her Power, Dies at 85
Gilda Cruz-Romo, a singer whose soaring, penetrating lyric soprano in dozens of Metropolitan Opera performances drew the admiration of critics and fans throughout the 1970s and into the '80s, died on June 30 in San Antonio. She was 85. Her death, in a hospital, was confirmed by her niece Sandra Guerra. Ms. Cruz-Romo's powerful voice was ideal for Tosca, Aida and Cio-Cio San in 'Madama Butterfly,' and she was cast over and over in those roles. She sang 163 times with the Met, on tour and in New York, until her last performance with the company in 1984, as Tosca. She also sang at the major European opera houses — Covent Garden in London in 1972, and the Vienna State Opera and La Scala in Milan the next year. Critics focused on the natural way Ms. Cruz-Romo used her voice to inject character into her roles. From a 1962 debut in her native Mexico, opposite Jon Vickers in Wagner's 'Die Walkure,' to her final performances, 30 years later, in Falla's 'El Amor Brujo' in Guadalajara, where she was born, she was celebrated for a big voice — she could hit high Cs with perfect accuracy — that was also capable of singing quite softly. At the Met, she sang alongside stars like Sherrill Milnes in 'I Pagliacci,' Robert Merrill in 'La Forza del Destino' and Plácido Domingo in 'Tosca,' under James Levine. A 1974 performance in Turin in the title role of Verdi's 'Luisa Miller' was 'the aural equivalent of a Caravaggio painting,' the critic Scott Barnes wrote in a 2008 profile in Opera magazine. He praised her 'masterful use of light and shadow to etch an indelibly unique human being' and wrote that she had a sound 'perfect for Verdi and Puccini.' Want all of The Times? Subscribe.


New York Times
17-07-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
John Conklin, Designer of Fantastical Opera Sets, Dies at 88
John Conklin, a celebrated designer of scenery for opera and theater, who tapped a boundless knowledge of music and art history, as well as an instinct for disruption, to create memorable sets for New York City Opera, the Metropolitan Opera, the San Francisco Opera and, most notably, the Glimmerglass Festival in upstate New York, died on June 24 in Cooperstown, N.Y. He was 88. His death was confirmed in a statement by Glimmerglass, the nonprofit summer opera company in Cooperstown. Mr. Conklin designed the scenery — and, in some cases, the costumes — for more than 40 Glimmerglass productions, starting in 1991. He remained active with the company even after his retirement in 2008, and he served as the scenic designer for all four shows of this summer's season: 'Tosca,' 'Sunday in the Park With George,' 'The House on Mango Street' and 'The Rake's Progress.' The term 'prodigy' rarely applies to set designers, but Mr. Conklin's instincts were on full display in his youth. Growing up in Hartford, Conn., he attended symphonies and operas with his family, and by 10, he was building his own models, based on photographs he found perusing the magazine Opera News. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.

Wall Street Journal
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Wall Street Journal
‘Sylvia' Review: American Ballet Theatre's Poised Pastoral
New York For its current season at the Metropolitan Opera House, through Saturday, American Ballet Theatre bookended four narrative ballets with weeklong runs of its 2000 staging of the perennially popular Tchaikovsky ballet 'Swan Lake,' in Kevin McKenzie's one-intermission, 4-act version.