Cinnabar mourns the passing of our dear friend, tenor Ron Mortimore.

Ron first came to the Cinnabar Theater in 1982 to perform featured roles in two short operas by Hans Werner Henze.  From that moment on, he became a fixture in Cinnabar Opera Theater programming.  His roles ranged from the ridiculous to the sublime.

Two roles seem always to come to mind.  In 1998, he played the Little Lion to Stan Case's Big Lion in the riotous romp, Griffilkin, stealing the audience's hearts while they laughed themselves silly.  The winter before, Ron played a role he reprised in '98 that could have been written for him:  Kaspar, one of the Magi who stops to take refreshment at Amahl's house in the beautiful little opera Amahl and the Night Visitors.  Once again he was cast alongside Stan Case, his physical and vocal opposite.  Where Stan was a mountain of a man with a deep bass, Ron was as compact as a bird, with a light and lithe tenor voice.  Rounding out the trio of Magi was Marvin Klebe, founder of Cinnabar, who first "discovered" Ron for Sonoma County opera audiences.  King Kaspar was supposed to be old and deaf, and Ron loved announcing that he had been typecast.  After all, he took great pride in dubbing himself the "Oldest Tenor in Captivity".

It haunts us here at Cinnabar to think that all three of our wise men have died, though their gorgeous spirits continue to keep us company and give us strength.  For many years, not a season would go by when the three weren't working together on our stage. How well we remember being called to Ron's bedside in March of '99 to say good-bye to him, and how "angry" he was in May of that year to visit Marvin's bedside to say good-bye in return.  "Marvin," he said, "You were not supposed to go before me."  The two had a good laugh over that, though it's a joke only they could share.  Stan's death in March of this year shook Ron to the core.

Ron was famous amongst us for a number of "Ron-like" things.  His great knowledge and love of all things growing in the ground spilled over into the Cinnabar realm.  Summer rehearsals were never complete without bags of what came to be known as "Ron's Dessert Tomatoes" - Ron's friends all know what we mean - as well as zucchini and other squash, and all other manner of fascinating and delicious vegetables.  For our Summer Music Festival, Ron always kept us in vase upon vase of his glorious dinner plate dahlias.  How we will miss those in our lobby!  Ron was also an accomplished cook, and no Cinnabar party was complete without his anchovy and garlic dip.  He always blushed at our ravings over that dish - "Oh, it's so easy to make," he'd say.  But just anyone else try and make the same dish!  There was a measure of pride in the man!

It's true that Ron's voice grew less and less reliable with age and infirmity (yes, even Ron had to pay that piper), and eventually his roles became smaller and smaller.  But his ego was never in the way, and he was thrilled to be considered a member of the Cinnabar family in any capacity.  Soon he found himself singing in the Opera Chorus, leading the tenor section with strength and the same pride and conscientiousness in his work which he had brought to his featured roles.  He joined the Cinnabar Chamber Singers in our inaugural season of 2001, and was featured in each of their concerts, never missing a rehearsal.  Nothing was more important to him than serving his fellow singers in any capacity that worked for all concerned.

Ron was slated to participate in our August production of Carl Orff's The Moon.  It meant a great deal to him and to us, since he had taken a featured role in our 1985 production of the same work.  He queried us in the beginning of rehearsals, "Are you sure you want to take a chance on me?  Perhaps I won't make it through."  We thought little of this, because he had been "warning" us in similar tones for some time now.  I think we were sure he was indomitable.  Of course, we have dedicated the production to Ron's memory.

Neither the Cinnabar Opera Theater nor the Cinnabar Chamber Singers will ever forget the richness of character, the kind heart and the dedication of our dear friend.  For 21 years he graced our stage and our lives.

Thank you, Ron.