Since the beginning of time, humans have made music. We’ve done it by tapping out a beat or voicing a tune. We appear to be the only earthbound creatures drawn to arrange sounds in musical patterns for entertainment and storytelling.
Voice is the first musical instrument we encounter. It requires nothing else to make it. It goes with us everywhere we go. Singing is cathartic and deeply organic. It connects us to Mother Earth, one another, and our inner beings. Music’s energy lifts us to euphoria or descends us to deep despair (and every emotion in between). It’s an escape hatch, a pleasant destination, a vehicle for storytelling, a uniting force, a support companion, a muse, or just a convenient distraction. Music and song are integral parts of our life force. We can’t deny their superpowers.
Long-time followers know I sing when I’m not writing dark fiction. I sing a lot. Musical theatre and karaoke have been regulars in my life for decades. I recently joined a choir for creative variety — and this past weekend was its premier show. We took our little collective of tenors, altos and sopranos to the suburbs to set the music free. It was the choir’s first audience since it began just months ago!
Two hours a week. That’s the time we dedicate to practising our music together. We meet at a community hall, and our choirmaster, Martin Meader, leads us through some selected pieces of music. We record what we do and then take it home to learn. Most of us have no musical experience. Almost all of us have never performed in front of a live audience. That changed this past weekend.
Live performance is the icing on the cake of singing. Singing solo is nice, but it becomes magical when strangers listen and appreciate the harmonies a choir produces. When a group like ours sings to a live audience, the music’s energy is multiplied. Performers and audience connect on a visceral level. If the music is good, the audience responds accordingly. If the audience responds favourably, the performers perform better. They improve, and then the audience’s appreciation rises, so it grows and then declines. It’s a relationship built on synergy. Each benefits from the other’s presence. Everyone is lifted, and the outside world doesn’t matter because the inside is perfect.
And it was… in so many ways.
It was a warm spring day, and the musical affair was held in the lush gardens of one of our singers’ properties in Erskine (see video above). One hundred people brought chairs and blankets and sat on the large, open grassed area before our choir. We sang, offered tea, coffee, sweets, and savoury food during the halftime break, and then, after a raffle and some casual silliness, we continued with the second half of our show.
Eleven songs, mostly in three-part harmony. That’s what we gave them — and they loved it.
The audience’s cheers at the end of each song energised our team of singers. I saw their faces turn from one made of nerves to another that sat back, smiled, and just enjoyed the ride, letting their voices do what they had been trained to do. The audience even shouted out encore at the end!
Due to our limited repertoire, we didn’t have an encore song to offer. (I spoke to Martin the week before, and he didn’t think an encore would come our way) I wish we did!
Margo and I enjoyed the brief but well-executed afternoon in Erskine, and I can’t wait to rehearse more material so we can do it all again!
Now it’s back to writing!
Discover more from Michael Forman – Author of Dark Fiction & Drama
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