Choir of Man
The Scottsdale Center for the Arts, Scottsdale, AZ, February 27, 2022
Reviewed by Lynn Timmons Edwards
Choir of Man pushes the boundaries of what we traditionally describe as cabaret. However, with respect for the diversity of programming at the Scottsdale Center for the Arts and the show’s unique approach to story and song, it deserves recognition. The Choir included Adam Baylou, Jahlil Burke, Jordan Crouch, Aled Davies, Connor Hanley, Mark Irwin, Ollie Kaiper Leach, Joshua Lloyd, and Ed Tunningley. These nine young men hail from the British Isles including England, Wales, and Ireland, except for Burke, who was born and raised in New York City.
In the pre-show event the entire ensemble welcomed the audience to their pub with a rousing chorus of “The Wild Rover (No, Nay Never).” Audience members were encouraged to come to the stage and collect a glass of beer while everyone was smiling, laughing, and singing along. I found myself swapping stories with a fellow journalist and his wife, who were seated next to me and who engaged me when he saw my tablet and pen. When everyone who wanted to imbibe with the boys was served, the singers got the crowd really going and then launched into “Welcome to the Jungle.” The song originated on the debut album of Guns and Roses, but the Choir made it their own. Suddenly, the random frolic on stage turned into sharp choreography and precise musicianship and harmony. Several singers also played instruments, including an upright piano, guitar, banjo, and ukulele. Rhythm was provided by whatever was close by, including trays, plates, feet, and mops, which came in handy given all the beer spilled on stage. The Jungle is their pub, the place they call home, at least for the hour at hand.
Hanley, also known as “The Poet,” took over as raconteur introducing his mates. His Irish brogue and Puck-like manner set the tone for the evening. Tunningly took the first turn as a soloist with Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream.” Then we learned how a Yankee made it into the choir when Burke melted into “One Moment in Time” with a creamy, rich baritone. He was too good to leave on our side of the Atlantic. The songs were about raising your glass to “the pub” and a clarion call to come together again in “public” after the devastating two years of Covid which saw the closing of over 2,000 pubs in Britain.
Hanley took the vocal lead on Paul Simon’s “Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover,” but the star of the number was Crouch with his display of his tap-dancing prowess. I never saw Bill “Bojangles” Robinson in person, but I felt his presence. Davies, the chap from Wales, showed off his voice with “Hello” (Adele Adkins and Greg Kurstin) as the choir painted the breakup pain in slow motion.
The Barman, Lloyd, took his turn on “Escape (The Piña Colada Song)” (Rupert Holmes). A large man, he was charming and bounded upon tables and the bar as he sang about his lovely lady. Shortly after that he conducted the choir a cappella on “Chandelier” (Sia). Hanley’s poetic musings about home brought the cabaret to a poignant final act. With Tunningley on guitar and Leach on banjo, the men sang a gorgeous arrangement of “Waterloo Sunset,” an old Kinks song written by Ray Davies. Then Hanley took us back to his childhood with “Dance with My Father” (Luther Vandross).
The 11 o’clock number, “Walk 500 Miles,” was a bit of a mess; perhaps it was funnier for those who had been imbibing the evening’s beer. It teased at being a singalong while Leach fooled around with classic riffs on the piano. “What Do I Stand For” brought it home, and the audience leaped to its feet demanding an encore. Hanley stepped center stage to proclaim, “Live theater is back and we’re not going to live in fear.” The choir left us with an a cappella arrangement of a traditional Irish folk song, “The Parting Lass,” as a dedication to those we must raise a glass to who are no longer with us.
The act has logged plenty of time on cruise ships and now there is more than one “Choir” touring around the globe. They were brand new to me and were worth being reviewed as a contemporary cabaret act.
