A Night at the Men’s Gay Choir

I left my phone on the coffee table for the night after spitting out a short text to our CEO. The evening didn’t need a phone. It included dinner with Alex and attending the New York Gay Men’s Chorus. I knew we were supporting Alex’s co-worker but didn’t know specifics.

Alex looked gorgeous sitting across from me. We were tucked away in the back right corner of the restaurant at a small 2-seater. My jacket on the back of the chair was inches away from a woman’s back who was finishing her meal. There were great bites at dinner and better moments. Alex answered a question with so much brainpower that it reminded me how she’s the smartest girl I know. Her blueberry pancakes were shockingly good for 6pm; and my salmon burger was medium plus the way I like it, smothered in sautéed onions and mushrooms. So much so they dribbled off onto the plate forcing you to methodically pick up a mushroom or onion or two with a utensil and place carefully on top of the patty to create another perfect bite.

We waltzed toward the assembly hall for the show. The night was chilly. People requested a warmer spring night, and they got a breezy colder one. We snuck inside waiting for her co-workers to show up, as Alex was the gatekeeper with digital tickets PDF’d deep in her email.

After some pre-show conversation and a slightly delayed start, all 250 participants strolled onto the multi-layered stage, 8 levels high and 30 people across, standing shoulder to shoulder. It was a jean jacket / worn white shirt theme. It was a bit of a Where’s Waldo situation given the coordinated décor.

Something was special about the formation. Everyone was close and focused on the audience, creating a peaceful ambience. Reading the program before the show, I was surprised and encouraged to see this group started in 1980, almost 50 years ago. Expectations rose slightly.

The 90s and early 2000s pop songs that beautifully echoed off the walls in the room created a cheerful atmosphere and an inspiring one. There was humor, there was joy, there was sheer appreciation for the vocals.

It was a gracious reminder that you don’t have to go very far to find something meaningful. It’s easy to be skeptical of many of the dynamics in our political and social world. There’s a lot going on and I’m not an expert on any of it. But I’ve had enough conversations in and out of the classroom to know that 250 gay men on stage being supported by a sold-out show is a step in the right direction. It’s a big step. Gay Asian men were dancing their chickens off. Gay black men were dressed in drag doing hilarious TRL and American Idol skits. It felt like a lot of beautiful moments on stage.

The most beautiful moment was the harmony of the 250 individuals. It’s rare you see a big group together these days without some distractions. The patrons at a concert going to the concert to video it with their phone. Big sporting events that need to be captured with a camera rather than a retina. It was a clean and beautiful image. It felt relaxing. It really was moving. And the talent on stage was immense.

Sometimes simplicity wins. Sometimes the power of people win. Sometimes a smile multiplied by 250 makes it a stronger smile. I worry that many of us have forgotten that simple is good. Maybe you independently haven’t forgotten it; but you collectively have. And it’s silly to list out instructions on how to lead a simpler life. Sometimes you just feel it. We’re not living in simple times – we’re living in complicated mazes of realities and most of us are smart enough to figure out what to pay attention to. But many people out there are not smart enough to understand what to listen to. I think sitting on the balcony level in Skirball Hall for a 2 hour show of 250 gay men singing beautiful pop music would calm everybody down the necessary level that people need to calm down. It’s like we’ve all been bitten by the spider in Spider-Man – but it’s venom isn’t a superpower, it’s the opposite. We need a device or formula to extract that venom. And tonight was one of those formulas. There are others, but for now, tipping my hat to the NYCGMC.