Diva Deborah Big-time soprano Voigt comes to the Merrill BY BECCA DEWAN

This past summer, Borders was having a sale — buy three books and get a fourth free. Since I was about to embark on some traveling, I loaded up on entertaining reading. One book I bought was Bel Canto, by Ann Patchett, the tale of an important Japanese businessman’s birthday party that gets taken over by terrorists. Among the hostages is a ravishing American diva who, through opera, unites and touches the captors and captured. It is hard to write about art, of any form, in a way that doesn’t sound trite or sappy. Patchett weaves musical description into her novel with much finesse and artistry. A quote from the beginning of the book, speaking about the American singer:

Some of them had loved her for years. They had every recording she had ever made. They kept a notebook and wrote down every place they has seen her, listing the music, the names of the cast, the conductor. There were others there that night who had not heard her name, who would have said, if asked, that opera was a collection of nonsensical cat screechings, that they would much rather pass three hours in a dentist’s chair. These were the ones who wept openly now, the ones who had been so mistaken.

For me, that perfectly describes opera. There are those who are obsessed with it and with its stars, then others (most people, I’d guess) that assume they don’t care for it. Listening to a cat screech is never pleasant, but if that’s what opera sounds like to you, then at least realize how much work goes in to sounding so fantastically feline.

With many classical performers, the only limitations to their proficiency are themselves — how much do they practice, how much talent do they have? Singers face this, too, but also a greater limitation. They are stuck with their own voice. They can’t upgrade, can’t buy a new one, can’t use their back-up when the better is broken. And while piano prodigies are a dime a dozen (I exaggerate), an opera singer must wait until her voice has matured. There are some roles strictly forbidden until a singer has reached a certain age. Patience, persistence and dedication are hallmarks of a good singer. Once all those years of patience have paid off, she can demand diva treatment — she’s earned it.

And diva is Deborah Voigt’s middle name. A sophisticated yet sassy lady (take a look at her Web site: deborahvoigt.com), Voigt gained international attention after her performance in the title role of Ariadne auf Naxos, by Strauss, in Boston a decade ago. The opera houses came a-knockin’. She’s appeared all over the world, and I’m sure some people have started a Ms. Voigt notebook.

Deborah Voigt gave her Carnegie Hall debut last year, and it is that same program that she and pianist Brian Zeger will perform at Merrill Auditorium on March 5.

What, this superstar soprano is coming to Portland!? Oh yes. PCA booked her a year ago . . . right around the time of the little-black-dress scandal. Voigt was to perform her signature role in Ariadne auf Naxos in London, but the updated costuming called for her character to where a slim-fitting black cocktail dress. Voigt was dismissed from the production because the director didn’t like how she looked in the dress.

Her Carnegie Hall appearance got a rave review from the New York Times, and I can only expect her performance at Merrill will be equally stunning. The program includes Schubert, Strauss, and Tchaikovsky. The second half has Charles Ives and Ben Moore (English!), and Broadway showstoppers by William Bolcom and Stephen Sondheim. Voigt is certainly showing her wide range of musical interests here, from standard German literature to Russian pieces, early-20th-century English art songs to musical theater.

Richard Conrad will be giving a lecture prior to Ms. Voigt’s performance as part of PCA’s "About the Music" series. Conrad is the founder of the Boston Academy of Music, founder and artistic director of the Bostonians, and an accomplished singer of the bel canto literature.

Many instrumental instructors will tell their students to play a line "as if someone’s singing it." As a pianist, you find the right place to lift your hand by determining where a singer would breathe. As a violinist, you lift the bow when the lungs would run out of air. With singing, there is no intermediary between the performer and the music, no instrument through which you must communicate. Instrumentalists strive to replicate that closeness, that intimacy in their playing. This is why it’s so important for musicians of all genres to hear great singers perform.

Deborah Voigt is a great singer "the preeminent dramatic soprano of her generation," her bio notes. And I believe it. Deborah Voigt is all power and artistry. No screeching cats here.

Becca DeWan can be reached at beccadewan@mac.com

Deborah Voigt is at Merrill Auditorium, in Portland, on Saturday, March 5. Call (207) 842-0800.