Another season is over and we’re almost in the throes of starting our new season in February. In the meantime, our ‘no-longer-a-newbie’ bass Paul reflects on his first performance as a Pinkie following our sell-out Legends concert…
It’s almost easy to forget that the weekly social event where there’s some singing, some dancing and a few beers with amazing people, that I have been blessed to be a part of for the last four months is all actually in preparation for one of the biggest nights in the London LGBT entertainment calendar.
One minute it’s late September and I’m immersing myself in a wad of new sheet music and wondering how the hell I’m ever going to pronounce anything in Latin. Next minute I’m donning a pink rose and stepping out in front of a crowded Cadogan hall, wondering quite how I ended up part of such an amazing family of wonderful people, and putting on a performance that gave me chills.
A small part of me actually doubted whether I could master the repertoire, but looking back, it shows what some excellent direction, a little dedication and lots and lots and lots and lots of repetition can do. And as soon as the nerves settled, and I got into the swing of the performance, including a fabulously flamboyant interlude from the Mallorcan Gay Men’s Chorus, the devastating realisation occurred that it was about to be all over.
My highlights were certainly the palpable ‘pin drop’ atmosphere at the end of ‘Both Sides Now’, the ‘thumbs up’ of acknowledgement from John to the choir after conducting the moving performance of ‘Blackbird’ and the audience’s laughter during ‘Gay versus Straight Composers’. it’s these moments that create a high, a bit like a drug and almost certainly as addictive, so bring on season two, I’m ready for my next fix!
In 2013, to celebrate our thirtieth anniversary, we created an exhibition, Singing the Changes, telling the story of LGBT London throughout the choir’s 30-year history. The heritage-lottery-funded exhibition is now on display at the Barbican centre music library until February 25th. Featuring interviews with past and current choir members, the exhibition weaves political, social and personal histories together in a new way. To plan your visit, check the Barbican’s website. Hsien, Ben, Nicola, Kirsten, Jenny and Simon, the install team
But that’s not all. The complete exhibition is now also available to view online. We’ve added comments and feedback that we collected from the initial showings of the exhibitions, too – and you can add your own. Browse the exhibition online now >>
John With just a week to go until the Pinkies take to the stage for our concert, ‘Legends; homage to the greats‘, our lovely accompanist John Flinders, explains why Mozart is one of his favourite musical legends…
When I was growing up in the 60s and 70s Mozart would not have made it onto a list of my favourite composers. I was mostly drawn to the tempestuous works of 20th century giants, especially Rachmaninov and Britten. Rachmaninov’s gloomy nostalgia was an apt accompaniment to my very conventional teenage anguish, whereas Britten’s music seemed to articulate my sense of being an outsider, and the open secret of his homosexuality was obscurely comforting to a boy whose own sexuality was then still very private.
Their compositions evoked a world of emotions at fever pitch and they moved and excited me far more than 18th and early 19th century music did – Haydn was way too perky; Beethoven too loud and irritable; and Mozart was well, perfect. Everyone said he was a genius, so clearly the worlds had no need of my opinion on the matter. And the very concept of perfect music alienated me; human beings have quirks and flaws and it seemed unlikely that a perfect piece of music would speak to me at all.
It was when I finally began to study his works that I started to realise what I had been missing. His piano writing is challenging yet practical; if I worked hard it was largely achievable. But playing his music requires courage. It is like putting yourself under a magnifying glass – every flaw is exposed. My growing admiration was mingled with a certain amount of fear. A wrong note in the music of some composers passes by without causing too much damage to the overall effect; a wrong note in Mozart is like mud on a diamond. And then I began to accompany singers, and was won over from that moment on – his vocal music simply amazes me. Far from distant or mechanical, it is fascinatingly expressive of human fallibility; it’s the quality of the expression and the composer’s psychological insight that is hard to fault. When he sets a text to music he demonstrates an extraordinary understanding of its emotional content.
Take the Offertorium (a movement from the Requiem which was left unfinished at his death), which forms part of our concert on January 10th. Like many of his compositions it is enjoyable as a purely abstract experience, but if, for example, you explore the words that provoke the viciously angular vocal lines that the chorus has to negotiate about halfway through, you discover that it is a plea for the souls of the faithful to be saved from plunging into hell. It’s a convincing depiction of that almost hysterical prayer and if I feared that fate I’m pretty sure that I would plead hysterically to be preserved from it. I still love Rachmaninov, and Britten, but Mozart’s ability to translate human behaviour into melody and harmony is uncanny – perhaps it is a sort of perfection but it’s one that, despite my youthful expectations, I find more and more rewarding.
One of this season’s newbies tenor Simon Blakey, sums up his experiences of his first weekend away with the Pink Singers…
Mention ‘Brantridge’ to a Pink Singer and the overwhelming response will be that of excitement and positivity. I’m one of this season’s ‘newbies’ and it was easy to spot its cult status amongst the choir – an annual event which has firmly ingrained itself in Pinkie lore, it was clear to us newbies (and the numerous not-so-newbies of the previous Spring/Summer season who were yet to experience Brantridge) that it would be an integral part of our initiation into the choir. A definite weekend to remember.
Friday
Excited (and a little nervous), we arrived at the estate to settle into our apartments and gather together for dinner. We were promised that we wouldn’t starve and boy was that an understatement! We feasted like royalty throughout the weekend. After all, an army marches on its stomach… and the indisputable Captain of Brantridge, alto Jenny Cousins, made sure this army was well stocked (seriously, that woman could give Sun Tzu a run for his money on the military planning front, I’m in awe).
After dinner we all marched down to the bottom of the estate for a bonfire and fireworks, quite literally starting the weekend with a bang (and toffee apples hard enough to pull our dentures out). The Xmas jumper parade was a sight to behold. Quite how all that much polyester survived so close to the fire without combusting I’ll never know… a minor miracle.
Saturday
Sam demonstrating the tilting larynx, or was it the glottal onset?
The Saturday was taken up primarily by workshops and sectional rehearsals. We were honoured to have Sam Kenyon attending for the weekend, who is fast becoming an annual addition to Brantridge. Sam is a master of several trades, but his knowledge and expertise as a voice teacher were a highlight of the weekend for me. My thinned vocal folds and larynx-tilting will never be the same again.
Following a day of vocal exertion I reported to Captain Cousins for kitchen duty. I was part of the team assigned to craft Christmas dinner for everyone, a task I very much enjoyed. I was told ‘this might be one of the toughest tasks of the weekend, but it’s definitely one of the most rewarding’. How true that was. Luckily, we were a good team of kitchen wenches and dinner was a great success; absent friends were toasted (you resting Pinkies and those who couldn’t make it, you were much missed!), and then the evening really kicked off…
I’m unlikely to ever forget what came next: the annual Christmas party. By the time dinner rolled around most people had adopted their alter-egos for the evening. I counted several Madonnas, a Dolly Parton getting down with George Michael and Elton John, no less than three Freddie Mercurys, two Amy Winehouses, several Chers, one Cheryl Cole and a grand total of eleven Conchita Wursts (as well as four Wombles!?). Led by the compères to end all compères we were entertained with an open mic show of vocal treats. I was part of a group making our debut that evening (though we should really revisit our group name for next year – The Sweaty Crotchets is REALLY not appealing. Suggestions on a post-card please).
Sunday
After a rather epic evening I awoke bleary-eyed to join another set of workshops run by Andrea Brown, a guest tutor for our final day at Brantridge. Andrea has an impressive list of credits and qualifications to her name and was an absolute pleasure to work with. I feel incredibly lucky to have had the opportunity to learn from both her and Sam over the course of the weekend.
Sunday evening saw me delivered back home, practically comatose with exhaustion, but content with memories of an engaging, productive and eye-opening weekend. What really came across most was the concerted effort everyone made to connect with members they hadn’t yet had the opportunity to meet properly. Friendships were forged and cemented, repertoire was tweaked, fun was had…what more could I ask for?
I’m brimming with excitement for our upcoming concert on the 10th January; it’s clear that it’s going to be one hell of a show, and I’m thrilled to be part of it as a fully initiated Pinkie. Thanks for the fun ride Brantridge.
Emelda In the second of a series of blog posts about favourite music legends – leading up to our Legends concert on 10th January – soprano Emelda Nicholroy explains why La Streisand hits the high notes for her: My mother has always loved musicals and I fondly remember watching some of the great movie musicals on TV with my family, often at Christmas. The Sound Of Music, West Side Story, Oliver, My Fair Lady, Fiddler On The Roof – we loved them all. But I seem to remember my mum having a particular soft spot for anything starring Mario Lanza. Of all of those films one that really stayed with me was Yentl. For quite some time I wanted to be Barbra Streisand when I grew up. The last shot of her on the boat to America belting out a note that seems to last for about ten minutes just had me gobsmacked. While the music in Yentl is amazing and La Streisand is clearly on top form (they said she was too old to play Yentl!), looking back I can’t help but wonder if something in the film spoke to me on a deeper level. She even gets the girl. (Well sort of. You’ll have to watch it). After Yentl I began to search out all the Streisand films I could find. There is a long list: Funny Girl, A Star Is Born, Hello Dolly, What’s Up Doc, On A Clear Day You Can See Forever and many more. As well as singing and acting on stage and screen, her talents include writing, producing and directing and on top of that she has sold 245 million records worldwide. She got her first big break after being spotted performing cabaret in a gay bar in Greenwich Village in 1960 at age 18 and went on to win an Oscar, Emmy, Tony and Grammy by the time she was 28! She is truly a phenomenon. I have always wanted to see her perform live but this doesn’t happen all that often. In 2007 she came to the UK for the first time in 13 years but unfortunately the ticket prices were a little out of my reach. I was devastated and promised myself that that when she returned I would somehow beg, borrow or steal a ticket. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait too long and in 2012 she announced that she would be coming to London in summer 2013. I knew I had to go and thankfully my wife Kate appreciated this and was prepared for the large credit card bill to follow. On 3rd June 2013 I finally made it. Sure we were up in the gods at the O2 – it was an intimate gig for 13,000 of her closest fans – but it was everything I had hoped for. Age 71 and she can still hit those notes and banter with the best of them. And they played “Barbra Streisand” by Duck Sauce during the interval. Priceless.
