From the Desk of Queen of Opera: Allow Me to Reintroduce Myself
For those of you who are new to my music and my brand, allow me to reintroduce myself.
My name is D’Andrea. I am an opera singer, a recording artist, and the founder of Queen of Opera, Inc. I want to take a moment to share who I am, why this platform exists, and what has shaped the way I move through the world as an artist.
At the core of everything I do is a very simple mission: I want to share my voice with as many people on the planet as humanly possible.
It is a lofty goal, and I understood from the beginning that a goal like this would require an enormous amount of action. And with that level of action comes attention, from many different directions. Praise, curiosity, misunderstanding, resistance, and sometimes pushback. When you set your sights wide, you don’t get to choose who notices you. You only get to choose how grounded you are when they do.
In the beginning, most of what I received from the public was kindness and enthusiasm. People were generous, supportive, and genuinely excited about what I was building. What I wasn’t fully prepared for was the backlash that inevitably followed as visibility grew.
That level of action has opened doors I wouldn’t have reached any other way. It has placed me in rooms alongside people from every corner of society, from city officials and political leaders to well-known public figures and internationally recognized organizations. I’ve connected with mayors, been acknowledged by household names, and been invited into spaces that operate quietly at the highest levels of influence.
It has led to performances at major galas, introductions that shaped the future of the company, and opportunities that extended far beyond music alone. Along the way, it has also brought unexpected benefits, from meaningful travel to significant public visibility, press opportunities, and long-term professional relationships.
None of this happened by accident. It came from consistent action taken in alignment with a clear mission, and from being willing to move before outcomes were guaranteed.
One of the earliest lessons I learned in this time is the importance of knowing exactly who I am and why I’m here, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Not as a concept, but as something I could feel in my body. Something solid enough to stand on when opinions shifted.
From the very beginning, my artist model resembled something much older than modern industry norms. It echoed the traditional patron/artist relationship that once sustained the fine arts. A relationship rooted in belief, vision, and long-term thinking. For some, that made perfect sense.
As my brand has grown and the support from my fans, curiosity naturally began started to surface. Why would patrons offer studio space at no cost? Why would someone support an opera singer with land, resources, or donations? Opportunities that didn’t fit neatly into how some people believed things were supposed to work.
What many of those critics didn’t understand is something that true patrons of the arts have always understood. The value of voice, of my talent, of presence, isn’t always transactional. To someone who deeply loves music, who understands culture, history, and legacy, supporting an artist isn’t strange at all. It’s instinctive.
For others, especially those without a refined or practiced relationship to music, it sparked confusion, skepticism, and even resentment.
I learned quickly that simply existing in this way invited projection, envy, and admonishment as much as praise and support. Assumptions about entitlement or favoritism. None of which had anything to do with me personally, and everything to do with how people relate to value, art, and power.
That is why decision became so important to me.
Very early on, I realized that if I didn’t decide who I was and what my mission was, other people would be more than happy to decide it for me. Decision, in that sense, wasn’t about ego or ambition. It was about survival and integrity.
I decided that my purpose was bigger than approval. Bigger than fitting neatly into an industry box. Bigger than explaining myself to people who were never going to understand my work anyway. Once that decision was made, everything else followed. The boundaries, the pace, the way I respond, or don’t respond, to criticism.
Decision didn’t make the noise go away. It made it irrelevant.
Being an opera singer with a mission like mine means standing at an intersection between tradition and modernity. Between refinement and accessibility. Between reverence for the art form and an insistence that it belong to more people. That position will never please everyone. And it isn’t meant to.
What I’ve learned is that when your mission is clear, backlash becomes information, not identity. Praise becomes gratitude, not fuel. And your sense of self stays intact no matter which direction the wind blows.
This space exists to give you a genuine look behind the curtain, through my own lived experience as an artist. The moments of praise, the moments of resistance, and everything in between have all contributed to the person I am today. What I share here reflects the real experiences, both rewarding and difficult, that have shaped who I am and how Queen of Opera has grown. Each lesson has played a role in refining my voice, my leadership, and the purpose behind this work.
