The Sweetness And The Sorrow

I know that some bloggers have had less-than-positive encounters with members of men's choruses. When I read that post, I started thinking of the right way to respond by comment. That morphed into a direct email, but after my own chorus' 15th anniversary concerts this weekend, it became this post.

I'll be the first to acknowledge that men's (or in our case, men's-and-women's) choruses are not for everyone, for any variety of reasons. My own other half doesn't really like to attend, but does to humor me. Fellow choristers are appalled that he doesn't jump at the chance to come hear us sing, but it really doesn't bother me all that much.

Fortunately, our group's repertoire is pretty far beyond the "show choir" genre. This weekend's shows included traditional spirituals, non-traditional but classically-styled pieces, some relatively modern pieces, and yes, some corny, showy pieces and two songs from musicals (a Rodgers/Hammerstein number and a piece from Showgirls). I certainly wouldn't miss it if we stopped doing flashy songs that need choreography to be worth the price of admission, but, to each their own.

It is interesting, though, that we often get feedback from audience members that we aren't doing enough fun, corny music. It begs the question: Should choruses do the music they want to, the music their existing audiences seem to ask for (and thus continue to ensure seats are sold, which in turn continues to ensure the existence of the group), or the music they think people who don't usually attend want to hear? Do you risk turning off the existing patrons in a bid to grow the audience?

I am also (probably) in the minority in our group, in that I would just about be happy to go through all the rehearsals and never perform. Performances give us something to aim for, and a reason to move from one set of songs to the next, I suppose. But it's in the rehearsals where I've made friendships with people that otherwise, I never would have met. This week, we have no rehearsal (our next concerts not being until December), and I know I'll miss it. Of course, we do have our divas, our spotlight-hogs and our show-choir contingent — but the sense of family that is within the group overcomes any distaste I have for that personality type. That sense of family also creates an enormous sense of pride in being part of a group that does meet a need for some in the community — either as singer or as audience member.

This sense of pride and family has been extremely clear to me this round, as Sunday was our director's last concert. I sensed a stronger-than-ever sense of family through the last rehearsals, and the concerts themselves became quite emotional. We ended the final concert with a surprise for him: a custom-arranged version of "What I Did For Love" (from A Chorus Line), renamed "What You Did For Us." We didn't need to do it on stage, but it helped show our patrons what he has meant to this group of people. In turn, it showed what a family we have become (especially as we learned the song in one-and-a-half rehearsals) — our common caring for one of our own made it easy to learn (if not hard to perform through the tears).

Anyone who doesn't like men's choruses is welcome to not like them. I wouldn't expect anyone to attend a concert just because it's a gay group, any more than I expect every gay man to enjoy going out to bars just to meet people. Each person has their own venues and avenues for finding new friends and growing one's family, or their own desires to cocoon and withdraw from time to time. I was lousy at attending the chorus concerts before I joined, but I don't regret for a moment doing so.