About

Music was never a hobby for me—it was built into me from the very beginning.

My foundation started in a rigorous boys’ choir program, where I was trained from a young age in solfège and the Zoltán Kodály method—one of the most demanding and effective systems for developing true musicianship. By the age of nine, I wasn’t just singing—I was learning to hear, understand, and internalize music at a deep level through ear training and sight-singing.

That early training shaped everything.

It led to top rankings in regional and All-East choruses, and eventually to international performance opportunities, including touring in Japan. From there, my career expanded across multiple disciplines—voice, piano, guitar, bass, drums, ukulele, and trumpet (my first instrument)—giving me a complete, real-world understanding of music from both classical and contemporary perspectives.

Over the past 40+ years as a performer and 30+ years as a coach, I’ve worked with singers, musicians, and performers at every level—from complete beginners to working professionals in cities like New York, Nashville, Los Angeles, and beyond.

But what truly sets my work apart isn’t just experience—it’s how I hear and diagnose music.

Because of my early training, I developed what many of my students call “alien ears”—the ability to quickly identify exactly what’s happening in a voice or performance, often within seconds. From there, I translate complex technique into simple, physical actions that create immediate, noticeable improvement.

No guesswork. No cookie-cutter lessons.

Just clear, direct coaching that builds:

• Clarity
• Control
• Confidence

My approach blends traditional musicianship with a non-traditional teaching system built over decades—focused on real results, not theory for theory’s sake.

Whether you’re looking to find your voice, strengthen your technique, learn an instrument, or take your performance to a professional level, my goal is simple:

To help you unlock what’s already there—and take it further than you thought possible.

That’s me at the organ with my father.

There was a stillness before the sound.

Not silence—never silence in a place like that—but a kind of waiting. The kind you feel in your chest more than your ears. I remember sitting at the organ bench, my feet not quite settled yet, hovering over pedals that felt bigger than they should have been. Everything about it felt larger than me. The room. The pipes. The expectation.

And him.

He was there beside me—not saying much, just present. That was his way. Not a lot of words, but something steady. Something that said, this matters, even if it was never spoken out loud.

I put my hands on the keys.

The first note didn’t just sound—it arrived.

I didn’t know it then, but that moment would stay.

This is what I help my students find.

Not just notes—control, connection, and real sound.

Text “START” to 484-544-2541