As we prepare to sing in the dawn this Saturday — our first live performance as a choir — thoughts perform their own pandemic dance as I start to breathe, sing and live music again. (It's been a while.)
In order of appearance :
We sing because we can. But more than that, we sing because we have something to say.
Our bodies are ears, listen to our bodies stay together, 1m apart.
Masked, our faces no longer have to carry the burden of expression –
our voices do the work of colouring tales and carrying song
our audience can – for a change, since this is not theatre – rest their eyes, and let their ear/body take over
Stripped of face, we hear the person. We have beautiful people in the SYC.
Music orientates me/us towards light.
In the luminous darkness of the pandemic — has singing in a choir ever been more talked about or more dangerous/illegal/sexy-in-a-Beatles'-kinda-way? — music has lit the way.
Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun
And we say — it's all right.
(Thanks, George Harrison, for the happy-making riffs.)