Sing, Sing, Sing!
By Jane Metcalfe
Singing is good for you! That maxim has been around for as long as I can remember. It’s not rocket science. Singing is a positive experience for both singer and audience. Being happy, having your spirits lifted, joining with others, breathing better, are some of the many benefits from singing. So when it was announced at the start of the Covid crisis that singing was a potential super-spreader and as such was banished forthwith to the screen, many of us were devastated. Live entertainment simply stopped dead in its tracks. Since then I have been to two live performances that left their mark on me.
The ParkinSongsters in concert
The first concert I attended took place late last year at Kino Teatr in Norman Rd. It was during one of the periods, somewhat akin to the principles of parole, that was supposed to lead to freedom but didn’t. Two young and vibrant classical singers, Chiara Vinci and Antony Flaum, took us on a vocal journey celebrating the sea. It was moving to witness these young professionals and their smiling accompanist, ply their trade in living, breathing person. It reminded me how powerful it is to experience live performance (of any kind), where the performers’ desire to give to the audience becomes a gift to both. It says something when the performers emotionally thanked the audience at the end for being there. It was a teary moment.
The second live performance, a couple of weeks ago at The Stables Theatre, was given by singer, Rosie Ashe, a colleague from my days in the ‘biz’. We got to know each other when we were part of an act for a couple of cruises in the early 1990s and have stayed friends ever since. She is a darling woman with immense talent, ingenuity and integrity, who has made her mark in main and character roles in the West End. Here she was in a clever one-woman show, devised by her, in which she told the story of Ethel Merman. The performance was peppered with passionate and funny songs between salty tales of Merman’s four marriages. It was a triumph, and we, the socially distanced audience, clapped and whooped Rosie, and Paul Knight, her excellent co-devisor and accompanist, at every opportunity.
I was reminded once again just how much I miss the real transmission that takes place between performer and audience. In my performing days we’d talk about good or bad audiences. We’d often say things like, “The audience is hard work tonight”, or “They love us; they’re on our side”, or occasionally, “We might as well pack up and go home now!”. But without an audience, whatever the size, performers are nothing. Singing is a glorious, joyful means of communication cut down to the root by some unfortunate research that for many of us didn’t make sense.
For these past few years I have taught singing to people who love to join with others in amateur performance, either as soloist or choir member. I also run a singing group (in days we once called ‘normal’) for people with Parkinson’s, The ParkinSongsters, that helps improve vocal function and quality of life, not least of which is the joy of sharing with others. Now we – well the few members who can face it – are banished to Zoom. We battle with bad signals and other technical hitches, doing the best we can with a technology that is an unsatisfactory experience even at best. We do not mute our mics and sing to ourselves as so many choirs do: personally I don’t see the point of that. We read poems, do exercises that make us laugh, and sing a verse each to one another, thus making the best of a poor deal. We all know it’s better than nothing, but it’s no substitute
for the real thing. Roll on live meetings.
Human beings are not just meat and bone walking around, as our forefathers once did, trying to avoid death at all costs – a fact that has so far proved to be as unavoidable as paying taxes. Who we really are is fired by the many natural wonders that spring from being a fully-functioning human. Collectively we are mind, body and spirit, and as such lay the ground for boundless creative potential. We feed one another on so many levels, singing being one amongst many. Whether as performer or audience, writer or reader, artist or viewer, we need each other to inspire and be inspired. Without sharing, expression becomes meaningless.
This not meant to be a post about politics, policies, truth, lies, right or wrong However, what I personally feel about the handling of the current situation naturally spills out onto the page in my desire to communicate my passion via the less challenged act of writing. Even speaking ones mind these days can lead to a metaphorical muddle, but don’t get me started on that… tra la la!
• Adapted from Jane’s blog post at janemetcalfe.co.uk/sing-sing-sing
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