I blame it on my older sister. A musically adept sort, she’d demand that I sing with her when we were young so that she could practice harmonizing.
Six years her junior, I’d always get confused at the crucial moment and pitch my voice up instead of down or down instead of up. It never ended well.
Chastised, I’ve mostly avoided singing in earshot of other humans over the ensuing decades. So, when I recently heard a friend talking effusively about her new choir habit, I was somewhat triggered. But also intrigued.
Writer Claire Finlayson has a go at choral singing. Photo by Nick Beadle.
The choir in question is called Sunny Side Up. Established 24 years ago, its 30 members meet once a week to throw their voices together in a humble hall in South Dunedin. It’s a group with a merciful open-door policy, welcoming those who can’t read music and those who’ve caused choral distress to a sibling.
When I ask Sunny Side Up’s choirmaster Richard Holland about that open door, he says: “Music is for everyone. Once you have enough people on board it doesn’t really matter if one or two can’t really sing as well as the others – the rest of the group carries them and it works out fine. We can still make a great sound together.”
It was this permissive ethos that appealed to one of the group’s newest recruits – retired policeman Kevin Anderson. When I chat to him ahead of rehearsal, he tells me what propelled him choir-wards. “After my wife died, I found myself sitting at home, looking for things to do. I always liked music, but I’ve never been a singer.” Except on hops-sponsored evenings. “I’m a great singer on a Friday night after I’ve had a few beers.”
Kevin’s motivation is as much social as songful. “I still don’t think I can sing but that’s not why I go. I go to meet people – and there are some really good people there.”
I like Kevin. I ask him if I can hide behind him when I brave rehearsal. He tells me that wouldn’t be the most aurally pleasing place to stand and then adds, “We’ll be expecting a solo from you of course…”
Though Sunny Side Up mostly sings gospel music, it’s not a church-aligned group. It’s one of many ‘a cappella’ choirs inspired by the lively four-part-harmony gospel arrangements of renowned New Zealand musician Tony Backhouse.
Sunny Side Up’s choirmaster Richard Holland. Photo by Nick Beadle.
Another of the group’s choristers, Adrienne Dearnley, says that while she’s not especially religious, gospel’s uplift factor gets in and nudges her soul. “It’s full of energy and rhythm. It makes me want to move. I suspect there's a ‘spiritual’ side as well – however you define that.”
She’s not wrong. When the soprano-alto-tenor-bass mix comes together, the resulting harmonic swell could make even the most spiritually stagnant soul feel a bit transcendental on it. From where I’m standing (tucked unobtrusively behind my new mate Kevin – who, incidentally, hasn’t had a single beer and is singing beautifully) I can see that this collective choral effort is having a transportive effect on everyone in the room.
Richard’s animated choirmaster style adds to the communal verve. He’s very perky. He says it’s the best workout he gets all week. “I can feel my emotions more clearly through music than I can through other forms of communication. If I get the rehearsal right, people don’t want to stop – the atmosphere is electric.”
Sunny Side Up choir members sing together. Photo by Nick Beadle.
As the tempo rises and the humans loosen in this small Dunedin hall, that electric current is palpable. Everyone seems to have gone pleasantly elsewhere. Some have disappeared deep inside themselves to a contented faraway place, and others are bouncing on the soles of their feet. When the harmonising hits the optimal spot, Adrienne says she registers it as tingles down her spine, Richard says he feels the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, and Kevin says he just feels really great.
Science has long told us about the wide-ranging benefits of choir singing. Saliva samples taken from choristers have even shown changes in stress hormones and immune markers. Seems that letting your vocal chords off their daytime leash for a frolic in the company of others is quite the all-body boost: it’s gym for the brain, a tonic for the bod, balm for a harried life, and yielder of good social glue.
Besides, you get to meet people like Kevin. And sing without sisterly scrutiny.
Story by Claire Finlayson for the Summer 2024 issue of AA Directions Magazine. Claire Finlayson is a freelance writer who contributes to AA Directions Magazine.
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