Mary Brennan is waiting in the Shelbourne Hotel, and has gravitated towards her natural habitat: the table beside the piano. She is looking at the ashtray on the table, which has been left behind by the previous occupant, with extreme distaste. Cigarettes do not go down at all well in Brennan's line of work, which is that of one of Ireland's best-known and most successful singing teachers. She has been teaching in the Vocal and Operatic Studies Department in the Dublin Institute of Technology Conservatory of Music and Drama since 1987, the year the degree course was set up there.
Dundalk-born Brennan was singing from the time she was at school, and then went on to train as a primary teacher. A bit later on in life, she went to train in the prestigious Royal Northern College in Manchester, doing a degree in singing and piano, with the focus being on singing.
"There wasn't anything like the opportunities then that there are here now," she says ruefully. "So everyone went away to train. And the irony of it is that people are now coming over to us in DIT for training."
On her return to Ireland, she went to "Ronnie" (Veronica Dunne) and asked if there was any teaching work going. There was. "Within a couple of months, I realised that this was where my whole life had been heading," she says simply.
Over the years, Brennan has herself performed a wide range of roles, including the countess in Le Nozze di Figaro, Elvira in Don Giovanni, Rosalind in Die Fledermaus and, most recently, Berta in Opera Ireland's production of the Barber of Seville. However, it is as a teacher she is best known, and it's teaching which appears to give her both the most challenges and the most pleasure.
It's refreshing to meet someone in the business of performance who is so committed to the role of recognising and fostering talent: very often teachers of the arts give the impression that their own work is what they are most interested in, and that teaching others is beneath them. The fact is that pupils in the performing arts are many, but really good teachers who have the gift of inspiring students and of imparting skills are rare.
Among the singers whom Brennan has taught is Orla Boylan, now working with the English National Opera, and young singers Michelle Sheridan and Sinead Campbell, each of whom won an incredible nine first prizes at last year's Siemens Feis Ceoil. Other students are also multi-prizewinners at feis level (her past pupils won a combined 27 prizes at the Feis Ceoil last year, arguably a record). Boylan also had the distinction of being the first winner of the Veronica Dunne Singing Competition in 1994.
"Orla started at 12 and did all the feises, but she never won anything. Feises are good for everyone, because you learn how to cope with not winning. Orla's is a voice that came on later, and it just shows how her technique was always there, but the other things came later."
Brennan is in ongoing negotiations with her old college, the Royal Northern, who have approached her to work with them. Since she is also currently visiting professor at the Flanders Opera Studio in Ghent, as well as working full-time at DIT, it's a question of juggling projects and commitments. "But the Royal Northern is my old college, and it's very, very tempting . . ." she admits.
One of the things she has most enjoyed about her work in Ireland is having the opportunity to teach a range of voices rather than just one, such as soprano, which is usually the lot of a female singing teacher. So what is a singing teacher looking for in a voice?
"The big difference between singing and other forms of music is that your instrument is part of you. If you're not well, your piano will still be there just the same, but if you're a singer, then everything is affected."
It sounds so obvious, but hence the importance of a strong personality behind the voice. Unlike fiddlers, for instance, singers' performances won't be enhanced by the purchase of a Stradivarius violin. No wonder famous opera singers have a reputation for throwing tantrums at the slightest possibility of a draught, which has the potential to put the kibosh on their ability to sing.
"In auditions, you have to feel there is a reasonable voice there. Technique is essential. You can correct things like where one places the note, whether it's under or over the note. Breathing is very important. And then some people just have that extra thing, that spark. It's instinctive. You can bring people on a long way, but to really succeed, they have to have that spark for performance. Singing a part is about communicating. If you can't draw an audience in and connect with them, it's no good."
Brennan is keen to stress, however, that while winning competitions is grand, the progress she most wants to see in her students is "bringing each person to their own particular potential". She's philosophical about the minority place that classical singing has in this country. "I just wish some of my singers could earn some of the money that pop-stars do. They both work equally hard, but it's very difficult to make a living out of classical singing full-time in this country."
Smoking aside, a career in classical singing requires many sacrifices. "I would not actively encourage someone to go for singing as a career unless I felt they'd something special," Brennan says, straight out. "You need discipline. If you're due to sing in a concert, even if it's a week before the concert, you need to go home and rest. No nightclubs. Some voices are delicate and some are made of cast-iron and can sing all day, but they all need rest."
She twists her hands as she speaks, like a conjurer producing something from nowhere. This must be what it's like to work with training a voice: coaxing magic out of the air.