Is singing in the choir better than sex?

Simon

Simon


I think I have just had what the mystics refer to as a peak experience…lasting three months!
You can meditate, practice tantric sex, swim with dolphins, climb mountains, sit in the presence of a wise or holy person – or you can join the Pink Singers, which is what I did in September. I had been looking for something like the Pinkies for 25 years (that’s how old the are!) ever since I left drama school with my first and last taste of choral singing. In the subsequent years music has been a big part of my life, but quietly strumming Van Morrison on the guitar just doesn’t come anywhere close.
Challenging and demanding rehearsals got under way in preparation for our appearance at the Royal Academy of Music for a Christmas concert on the 13th December. I have to say that there were points in rehearsal when the hard work bore glorious fruit as we “came together” (titter, titter) with blissful harmonies that could send shivers down the spine of an invertebrate. Our graceful musical director Mladen and nimble fingered pianist Michael whipped us into shape with a repertoire that moved effortlessly from the divine Rutter and Britten to a cheesily (computer says that’s not a word) secular Carpenters number via Chillcot’s version of Midwinter that was to bring tears to the eyes of the singers and audience alike.
So the big day arrived with a healthy dose of nerves. Picture the scene, the Duke’s Hall, gilded horns and harps crafted into the chandeliers architecture, approving portraits looking on from their hallowed walls and seats awaiting the cold, damp bottoms of the expectant audience.
First to appear were the Brighton and Hove (Actually) Gay Men’s Chorus who looked handsome and festive in their big coats and chunky-knit scarves. Sadly, though gladly, our full house meant few of the Pinkies could squeeze in for a peek, though by all accounts, they sounded excellent.
Then it was our turn with an enthusiastic, 400 strong audience giving us a warm hand on our entrance (arf arf)…AND WE ROCKED! Well we were clear and tight, balanced and witty, sinuous and sublime and…then it was over. And I want to do it again! And again!
One of my friends brought her six year old daughter (thanks Joey for taking the choreographic raunch down a notch or two in “I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus”). I shall leave you with her contribution. After her mum said to her on their way home “I really loved tonight…”, the daughter solemnly responded: “I didn’t love it…………………………I ADORED IT!”


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