Beer imbibing and choral singing: a serendipitous pairing
A soccer game flickered across the television screens hanging on the walls of a pub in Manhattan. But instead of the rowdy cheers and commentary from the patrons that usually accompany the games, the incongruent sound of choral singing filled the air.
“Oh, Shen-an-doahhh, I long to hear youu a-wayyyy, I’m bound awayyyy ‘cross the wide Missouri.”
It was a cold Tuesday night; an unexpected Arctic chill had hit the city, but that had not stopped a particular group of revelers from showing up at Dive 106 on Amsterdam Avenue for the inaugural session of Beer Choir in New York City.
The event was exactly what it promised – drinking beer and choral singing.
The night had started off slow. At 8, fewer than five people had turned up. The potential beer-drinking singers sat waiting with the regulars, who had no idea what was about to befall their ordinary Tuesday night at the pub. But by 10, a crowd of almost 30 occupied more than half the space at Dive 106.
The idea for the session came about when Caeli Smith, 27, a violist, was talking with a friend about creative ways to make music together. They are both professional musicians and play in the same ensemble at Carnegie Hall. Wilden Dannenberg, who plays the French horn, introduced Beer Choir to Caeli.
Beer Choir began in 2017. It was the brainchild of a choral composer named Mike Engelhardt, who thought he could combine two of his favorite things as a way of bringing people together. After it debuted in Missouri, its popularity took off and the idea quickly expanded to other cities. There are now 17 chapters — including one on Long Island.
“When I found out about it, I couldn’t believe there wasn’t one in New York City,” Smith said.
So she wrote to Engelhardt to ask if she could start one. And the rest, as the saying goes, is history.
“I’m actually not a really big drinker,” Smith said. But she knew people who liked craft beer. And she knew people who enjoyed singing – she herself sang a lot while growing up, and she also enjoyed connecting with new people over music.
And so music aficionados and beer connoisseurs gathered in this small pub in Upper Manhattan on an icy Tuesday night. An unlikely pairing at first glance. But on second thought, perhaps a natural step in a long tradition of alcohol and singing.
“They obviously go really well together,” Smith said with a laugh.
Naturally, a lot of the people who turned up that night included many of Smith and Dannenberg’s musician friends. But there were others who came in through word-of-mouth and event listings that Smith and Dannenberg had posted on websites and forums – including a Reddit forum called NYCBeer.
At about 9, a crowd of almost 20 had formed. Smith went around distributing the beer “hymnals” — printed booklets of the music for the songs she had chosen and adapted from Engelhardt’s original hymnal — as she welcomed people enthusiastically and asked them how they knew about the event.
“I love anything that combines beer and singing,” someone said.
“You’re in exactly the right place!” Smith said.
The session, led by Smith, began with 17th century rounds, while Dannenberg accompanied on a keyboard that had been set up in a corner at the back of the pub, where the Beer Choir congregated.
“Ban-bu-ry ale, where, where, where? At the black-smith’s house, I would I were there!”
The regulars, seated at the front of the pub, didn’t seem too bothered after all. Apart from a few curious glances, they carried on with their conversations and drinking. The soccer game continued silently on the screens above the bar. Just another Tuesday night in New York City.
The repertoire included traditional drinking songs from the 1600s, English madrigals, American spiritual songs, and even Beethoven and Mozart. After the first round, Smith continued leading the Beer Choir with a few more traditional songs. Toward the end of one song, Dannenberg stopped playing on the keys to let the different layers of voices swirl around the space. The clear high notes of the sopranos rang above the deep tones of the bass singers, and the altos and tenors blended with them to fill out the harmonies.
There were approving claps from the regulars who had stopped their conversations to listen.
The beer kept flowing as the night went on. The waitress gracefully weaved her way through an increasingly high-spirited singing crowd, picking up empty plates and glasses, replenishing orders. At half past 10, people were still trickling in to join for the final hour, although a few had left by this point. It was a Tuesday night, after all.
Smith hoped that Beer Choir could be a way of introducing choral music to people who might not ordinarily be familiar with it or have the opportunity to listen to it. She is already planning for the next session in mid-December. This time, the repertoire will include seasonal favorites, which she hoped would draw more people.
“There was one guy who was just walking by and he came in, and thought it was fun, even though he doesn’t sing,” said Smith. “And I thought that was amazing. And when I got home, I was wondering why I felt so happy. And I realized it was because of this — simply people coming together and having a great time.”
The session had been going on for about two hours, and it was almost 11. The songs in the hymnal had been arranged according to technical difficulty and the Beer Choir was now singing a hymn in four parts based on music by Jean Sibelius, a well-known Finnish composer from the late 19th century.
“This is my song, O God of all the nations...”
It was a calm, slow piece and the voices melded smoothly.
“…this is my home, the country where my heart is…”
And as the song came to an end, a couple of non-singing patrons raised their beer mugs and cheered in appreciation.
