Five Days to Go - Choreography Panic
In five days I’m flying to America with the London Gay Men’s Chorus for a twelve-day tour. We’ll be singing in New York and Chicago. And dancing.
That last word terrifies me. I am the definition of dad dancing.
Five years ago I joined a gay men’s chorus (“Europe’s largest boy band”) that not only sings – but dances.
Choral-ography they call it. Two hundred gay men in perfect synchronisation.
Well, one hundred and ninety-nine – plus me. Usually a beat behind everyone else. The Corporal Jones of the London Gay Men’s Chorus.
In the show we’re taking on tour we’re going to be dancing to…
…but I can’t tell you. It’s got to be a surprise.
So I’ll tell you about just over two years ago. On the stage of the Queen Elizabeth Hall on London’s South Bank.
We were performing a very action packed version of Jai-Ho – the fabulous song performed at the end of Danny Boyle’s seminal film Slumdog Millionaire.
Week after week in rehearsals I failed miserably to get the movements in the right sequence.
The rest of the chorus would be raising their arms to the left.
I raised right.
Then one day, I got it. I was in perfect synchronisation with everyone else.
I was ecstatic. But there was one problem.
We were performing the song jointly with our visitors. The New York Gay Men’s Chorus. Fabulous, friendly, fit, masters of the dance.
And there were a lot of them. Our chorus was nearly one hundred and seventy. There seemed to be hundreds of the hunky New York guys.
And we were all squeezed onto the modest stage of the Queen Elizabeth Hall.
So when it came to the combined choral-ography, all my confident, expressive, expansive, and above all, accurate dance moves were totally invisible.
I’m relying on that happening this time too…
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