Today we’d like to introduce you to Nathan Kessel.
Nathan, let’s start with your story. We’d love to hear how you got started and how the journey has been so far.
Imagine a perfect summer’s day, with the sun shining and a gentle breeze blowing, surrounded by your two best friends in the whole world, and the next thing you know you find yourself in a hospital with no clue as to what is going on. My story began that perfect summer’s day, at the age of twelve, when I experienced a life-changing event.
It happened while attending sailing camp. My friends and I were heading back to the dock and all of a sudden the world was spinning out of control. Someone had crashed into our boat. I was struck on the side of my head by the aluminum boom of the other boat. The impact was so intense, it flung me forward and my face was crushed on the fiberglass bench of our boat as a result. I found myself waking up on the dock with everybody’s panicked faces swarming over me. My black and blue eyes, bloody nose, and torn lips were all they could focus on, meanwhile, I could barely focus at all. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, there was a persistent ringing in my ears. I panicked, so I screamed for help, but it felt as if no sound came from my voice. I kept calling out and my vision had begun to fade. I panicked even more while huge black spots filled my field of vision and my body became numb.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting at a table on the dock with this warm fluid trickling down the side of my head. I touched it and a deep crimson red covered my hands. The counselor asked me if I was okay and I said: “no, I can’t see anything, I’m scared.” He said everything was going to be okay. He then called my mother and quickly began yelling at her because she insisted that I be brought to the hospital (which was directly across the street from the camp) and he yelled saying “NO, HE’S FINE!” I was screaming in the background because my vision had completely deteriorated and all that I could see was darkness and my mother could hear everything. I lost consciousness again.
I remember waking up in an MRI machine. We were at the hospital for eight hours while I was undergoing procedures, scans, and testing.
I found myself at home on the couch, my cousin was sitting across from me cracking jokes and telling me about her day, as always. I finally responded, “Hi Natanya, when did you get here?” She smiled and said, “love you kid” and left. She called my mother moments later weeping. She had been talking to me for an hour and I had no concept of what was going on.
I slept just over twenty hours that night. The same thing happened the next day and the next, and this sleep pattern proceeded for two months. When I finally woke up, I had light sensitivity, noise sensitivity, short term, and long term memory loss, severe headaches, dizziness, fatigue, and confusion. I did strange things like wash my hands obsessively, put the laundry in anything that had a door, which included the dishwasher, oven, refrigerator, and so many more great options. At first, this behavior was terrifying for my family, but eventually, it became something we laughed at.
My family spent four years reteaching me everything. My brother, Sam, would help me study. He created songs out of my study materials for class and for some reason I could remember when he would sing to me and it was then that music became an important part of my recovery. My mom would not let me stay in a darkened room to have cognitive rest. Music stimulated parts of my brain that helped me remember.
My parents spent every cent they had getting me lessons on jazz piano, classical piano, jazz drums, saxophone, guitar, and voice. My brain was healing and I had developed a new gift of hearing music as colors which we learned was a disorder called Synesthesia. When I turned thirteen, I started singing in the choir. It was my least favorite out of all the music I was exploring, but my parents insisted that I do it.
In high school, I pushed my voice lower as a freshman because I wanted to be in the Honor’s Choir and I knew I would only have a shot if I auditioned as a Bass. I was lucky enough to win a position and it was because of this choir teacher that I began to seriously pursue singing. She told me that I had to audition for the regional choir as a sophomore, and I asked her, “could I audition for jazz piano instead?” And she said, “Absolutely not, you’re singing or you’re out of my choir.” So, I begrudgingly found a private voice teacher who became an integral part of my musical career, and I took the audition and won a seat in the regional and all-state choirs. From then on, I listened to everything they said. Stanley Wilson, my private teacher, pushed me to take auditions for all sorts of programs and competitions, but the most important audition he influenced me to take was for the Boston University Tanglewood Institute. I was lucky enough to win the audition and it was at Tanglewood that I fell in love with the music community. Never had I felt so accepted or comfortable in my life. My peers were so talented and had the warmest hearts. It was a humbling and inspiring experience. When my summer at Tanglewood ended, I wept because it was truly the greatest experience of my life.
This accident led to my deep love and appreciation for music. This universal language that unites all people. I would practice all day when I was able to stay awake. I would sit at the piano listening to music, recreating what I heard and adding my own spin. I would practice singing and studying languages, noticing the different colors each one had to offer and their unique sounds, textures, and tonalities.
My mother urged me to take on an impossible audition after that summer. She said, “I found out that anyone can audition for the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s Tanglewood Festival Chorus!” I argued that I wouldn’t have a shot at winning a seat in the world-class ensemble as a 16-year-old kid, but I went to the audition. I sang my first song, and the conductor asked me how old I was, so I told him and he said, “Thank you, we’ll see you in a month.” I had won a position as a baritone in the chorus. This is where I met my best friends, Xander Teplansky and Maxwell Levy who have been there every step of the way ever since.
I turned 17 a month later and made my debut with the Boston Pops that November and was deemed the Boston Globe’s, Young Artist on the Rise for 2013. My parents were so proud and they shared the news with my family. They felt that it was a nice accomplishment, but nothing worth seriously pursuing.
When I won an audition to attend the Eastman School of Music to study under the world-famous soprano, Rita Shane, I knew I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. Everyone in my family insisted that I rethink this career choice, but eventually my parents began to support me… the majority of my family didn’t and they began to shun me.
No matter what successes I had, winning competitions at the national or international levels, the majority of my family did not see these achievements as successes, they just saw it as something lowly. Most of my family are doctors or lawyers and I was scared to pursue my dreams, but one day, at an annual family celebration, my cousin, Cassie Feinberg, said to me, “Nathan, being scared of something just means you have a reason to be brave.” I’m so grateful for those words because it’s what inspired me to follow my dreams.
Once I started school at Eastman, I couldn’t wait for my first lesson of the semester with Ms. Shane. The lesson was incredible, I learned more about my voice in just one lesson than any other. Afterwards, I left her studio, and she followed me out of her room and said to me, “Nathan, it was a pleasure hearing from you today. I’m so excited for your journey to unfold.” That was the last time I saw Ms. Shane because six weeks later she died of pancreatic cancer. It was devastating. Fortunately, I was lucky enough to have an extremely supportive coach, Russell Miller, who was there to support me and everyone impacted by Ms. Shane’s passing. In my sophomore year, four-time Grammy award-winning tenor, Anthony Dean Griffey, became my teacher at Eastman, and he and Dr. Miller nurtured me into the musician that I am today.
I am now pursuing my Master’s degree in Vocal Performance at Rice University under the tutelage of Dr. Robin Rice and coaches Tom Jaber and Michael Heaston, all who are giving me incredible guidance and support in my studies.
I am so lucky to have such amazing parents who support me, my brother and cousins who inspire me every day, all my teachers who motivate me to pursue these dreams, and my best friends, Xander and Maxwell, for pushing me to be my best. I am especially grateful to the medical team who spent years taking care of me and watching over me in my recovery: Dr. Catherine Freemer, Dr. William Paul Mehan III at Boston Children’s Hospital, and Dr. Neal McGrath, Sports Concussion New England.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @kessel_nathan
Image Credit:
Cory McGee, Anja Stroh
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