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This week marks my 10th anniversary in The King’s Singers. And what an extraordinary, thrilling and challenging 10 years it has been.
I will always remember my excitement and incredulity at being appointed into this job immediately after my impromptu audition on stage at Riga Opera House in July 2014 — and with it, the stomach-dropping feeling that my life was about to change and my career about to be fast-tracked overnight from unsure masters student in vocal studies to fully fledged, professional, world-travelling musician. How fortunate I felt to be skipping over the impending years of uncertainty and the psychological ups and the downs that seemingly come with being a solo singer at the start of their career. And yet, of course, I’ve come to realise that this job is also its own kind of rollercoaster.
The highs speak for themselves: getting to tour the world to locations as exotic and far-flung as New Zealand, the Philippines, South Africa, Colombia and the Faroe Islands; performing over a hundred concerts a year to excited and engaged audiences of many hundreds, if not thousands, of people at each sitting and being applauded for the pleasure; educating and inspiring young people — the next generation — through our love of singing and the power that music has to bring people together; getting to choose all the music we’d like to sing in our programmes, ranging from Renaissance polyphony we grew up with as choristers, to new commissions, timeless KS arrangements and everything else in between; exploring speciality coffee shops and restaurants offering the best local cuisine and culinary experiences; and meeting the kind and enthusiastic people working at the various festivals and venues we encounter every day on tour.
Personally, it’s always incredibly special to tour Japan given my maternal roots there, and I always look forward to being tour matron (of sorts!) by helping the others in my fairly decent Japanese with placing food orders, navigating the intense Japan Rail network or going over everyone’s Japanese announcements over a bento box dinner backstage before concerts. It’s also always so special to perform in concert halls that I performed in as a boy chorister or choral scholar, such as the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, St Thomas Church Fifth Ave NYC, The Cathedral Basilica of St Louis MO or Tokyo Suntory Hall. In more recent years (since the Covid pandemic) I’ve taken to running as a way of grounding myself on tour when there’s a moment in the schedule to nip out and explore the surrounding area; and of course staying in touch with loved ones back home has proved a crucial anchor to this vessel that’s predominantly in international waters at sea.
The lows of the rollercoaster are perhaps also obvious, but we tend not to focus as much on these, for it’s perhaps easier to ignore them while our overwhelming sense of gratitude and privilege for this unique job prevails. To name a few: being away from home and from loved ones for 200 days a year is disconnecting, destabilising and problematic; checking in and out of a new hotel every one or two days is disorientating and cumbersome; and waiting around at airports, train stations and car rental centres can test one’s patience!
10 years on, I continue to feel enormously fortunate to be able to sing to such a high level for a living; to have five such extraordinarily supportive, open and loving colleagues akin to family; and to be a part of an institution that has for so long inspired people around the world over to embrace singing as a hobby, profession or a form of therapy. I’m constantly feeling inspired and nourished by these essences of the job, and it motivates me every single day to try my best on stage and off.
And who knows… perhaps I can say “here’s to another 10 years!” Long-servers David Hurley, Stephen Connolly, Al Hume and Simon Carrington would all surely endorse the idea! Watch this space…
This week marks my 10th anniversary in The King’s Singers. And what an extraordinary, thrilling and challenging 10 years it has been.
I will always remember my excitement and incredulity at being appointed into this job immediately after my impromptu audition on stage at Riga Opera House in July 2014 — and with it, the stomach-dropping feeling that my life was about to change and my career about to be fast-tracked overnight from unsure masters student in vocal studies to fully fledged, professional, world-travelling musician. How fortunate I felt to be skipping over the impending years of uncertainty and the psychological ups and the downs that seemingly come with being a solo singer at the start of their career. And yet, of course, I’ve come to realise that this job is also its own kind of rollercoaster.
The highs speak for themselves: getting to tour the world to locations as exotic and far-flung as New Zealand, the Philippines, South Africa, Colombia and the Faroe Islands; performing over a hundred concerts a year to excited and engaged audiences of many hundreds, if not thousands, of people at each sitting and being applauded for the pleasure; educating and inspiring young people — the next generation — through our love of singing and the power that music has to bring people together; getting to choose all the music we’d like to sing in our programmes, ranging from Renaissance polyphony we grew up with as choristers, to new commissions, timeless KS arrangements and everything else in between; exploring speciality coffee shops and restaurants offering the best local cuisine and culinary experiences; and meeting the kind and enthusiastic people working at the various festivals and venues we encounter every day on tour.
Personally, it’s always incredibly special to tour Japan given my maternal roots there, and I always look forward to being tour matron (of sorts!) by helping the others in my fairly decent Japanese with placing food orders, navigating the intense Japan Rail network or going over everyone’s Japanese announcements over a bento box dinner backstage before concerts. It’s also always so special to perform in concert halls that I performed in as a boy chorister or choral scholar, such as the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, St Thomas Church Fifth Ave NYC, The Cathedral Basilica of St Louis MO or Tokyo Suntory Hall. In more recent years (since the Covid pandemic) I’ve taken to running as a way of grounding myself on tour when there’s a moment in the schedule to nip out and explore the surrounding area; and of course staying in touch with loved ones back home has proved a crucial anchor to this vessel that’s predominantly in international waters at sea.
The lows of the rollercoaster are perhaps also obvious, but we tend not to focus as much on these, for it’s perhaps easier to ignore them while our overwhelming sense of gratitude and privilege for this unique job prevails. To name a few: being away from home and from loved ones for 200 days a year is disconnecting, destabilising and problematic; checking in and out of a new hotel every one or two days is disorientating and cumbersome; and waiting around at airports, train stations and car rental centres can test one’s patience!
10 years on, I continue to feel enormously fortunate to be able to sing to such a high level for a living; to have five such extraordinarily supportive, open and loving colleagues akin to family; and to be a part of an institution that has for so long inspired people around the world over to embrace singing as a hobby, profession or a form of therapy. I’m constantly feeling inspired and nourished by these essences of the job, and it motivates me every single day to try my best on stage and off.
And who knows… perhaps I can say “here’s to another 10 years!” Long-servers David Hurley, Stephen Connolly, Al Hume and Simon Carrington would all surely endorse the idea! Watch this space…
This week marks my 10th anniversary in The King’s Singers. And what an extraordinary, thrilling and challenging 10 years it has been.
I will always remember my excitement and incredulity at being appointed into this job immediately after my impromptu audition on stage at Riga Opera House in July 2014 — and with it, the stomach-dropping feeling that my life was about to change and my career about to be fast-tracked overnight from unsure masters student in vocal studies to fully fledged, professional, world-travelling musician. How fortunate I felt to be skipping over the impending years of uncertainty and the psychological ups and the downs that seemingly come with being a solo singer at the start of their career. And yet, of course, I’ve come to realise that this job is also its own kind of rollercoaster.
The highs speak for themselves: getting to tour the world to locations as exotic and far-flung as New Zealand, the Philippines, South Africa, Colombia and the Faroe Islands; performing over a hundred concerts a year to excited and engaged audiences of many hundreds, if not thousands, of people at each sitting and being applauded for the pleasure; educating and inspiring young people — the next generation — through our love of singing and the power that music has to bring people together; getting to choose all the music we’d like to sing in our programmes, ranging from Renaissance polyphony we grew up with as choristers, to new commissions, timeless KS arrangements and everything else in between; exploring speciality coffee shops and restaurants offering the best local cuisine and culinary experiences; and meeting the kind and enthusiastic people working at the various festivals and venues we encounter every day on tour.
Personally, it’s always incredibly special to tour Japan given my maternal roots there, and I always look forward to being tour matron (of sorts!) by helping the others in my fairly decent Japanese with placing food orders, navigating the intense Japan Rail network or going over everyone’s Japanese announcements over a bento box dinner backstage before concerts. It’s also always so special to perform in concert halls that I performed in as a boy chorister or choral scholar, such as the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, St Thomas Church Fifth Ave NYC, The Cathedral Basilica of St Louis MO or Tokyo Suntory Hall. In more recent years (since the Covid pandemic) I’ve taken to running as a way of grounding myself on tour when there’s a moment in the schedule to nip out and explore the surrounding area; and of course staying in touch with loved ones back home has proved a crucial anchor to this vessel that’s predominantly in international waters at sea.
The lows of the rollercoaster are perhaps also obvious, but we tend not to focus as much on these, for it’s perhaps easier to ignore them while our overwhelming sense of gratitude and privilege for this unique job prevails. To name a few: being away from home and from loved ones for 200 days a year is disconnecting, destabilising and problematic; checking in and out of a new hotel every one or two days is disorientating and cumbersome; and waiting around at airports, train stations and car rental centres can test one’s patience!
10 years on, I continue to feel enormously fortunate to be able to sing to such a high level for a living; to have five such extraordinarily supportive, open and loving colleagues akin to family; and to be a part of an institution that has for so long inspired people around the world over to embrace singing as a hobby, profession or a form of therapy. I’m constantly feeling inspired and nourished by these essences of the job, and it motivates me every single day to try my best on stage and off.
And who knows… perhaps I can say “here’s to another 10 years!” Long-servers David Hurley, Stephen Connolly, Al Hume and Simon Carrington would all surely endorse the idea! Watch this space…
This week marks my 10th anniversary in The King’s Singers. And what an extraordinary, thrilling and challenging 10 years it has been.
I will always remember my excitement and incredulity at being appointed into this job immediately after my impromptu audition on stage at Riga Opera House in July 2014 — and with it, the stomach-dropping feeling that my life was about to change and my career about to be fast-tracked overnight from unsure masters student in vocal studies to fully fledged, professional, world-travelling musician. How fortunate I felt to be skipping over the impending years of uncertainty and the psychological ups and the downs that seemingly come with being a solo singer at the start of their career. And yet, of course, I’ve come to realise that this job is also its own kind of rollercoaster.
The highs speak for themselves: getting to tour the world to locations as exotic and far-flung as New Zealand, the Philippines, South Africa, Colombia and the Faroe Islands; performing over a hundred concerts a year to excited and engaged audiences of many hundreds, if not thousands, of people at each sitting and being applauded for the pleasure; educating and inspiring young people — the next generation — through our love of singing and the power that music has to bring people together; getting to choose all the music we’d like to sing in our programmes, ranging from Renaissance polyphony we grew up with as choristers, to new commissions, timeless KS arrangements and everything else in between; exploring speciality coffee shops and restaurants offering the best local cuisine and culinary experiences; and meeting the kind and enthusiastic people working at the various festivals and venues we encounter every day on tour.
Personally, it’s always incredibly special to tour Japan given my maternal roots there, and I always look forward to being tour matron (of sorts!) by helping the others in my fairly decent Japanese with placing food orders, navigating the intense Japan Rail network or going over everyone’s Japanese announcements over a bento box dinner backstage before concerts. It’s also always so special to perform in concert halls that I performed in as a boy chorister or choral scholar, such as the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, St Thomas Church Fifth Ave NYC, The Cathedral Basilica of St Louis MO or Tokyo Suntory Hall. In more recent years (since the Covid pandemic) I’ve taken to running as a way of grounding myself on tour when there’s a moment in the schedule to nip out and explore the surrounding area; and of course staying in touch with loved ones back home has proved a crucial anchor to this vessel that’s predominantly in international waters at sea.
The lows of the rollercoaster are perhaps also obvious, but we tend not to focus as much on these, for it’s perhaps easier to ignore them while our overwhelming sense of gratitude and privilege for this unique job prevails. To name a few: being away from home and from loved ones for 200 days a year is disconnecting, destabilising and problematic; checking in and out of a new hotel every one or two days is disorientating and cumbersome; and waiting around at airports, train stations and car rental centres can test one’s patience!
10 years on, I continue to feel enormously fortunate to be able to sing to such a high level for a living; to have five such extraordinarily supportive, open and loving colleagues akin to family; and to be a part of an institution that has for so long inspired people around the world over to embrace singing as a hobby, profession or a form of therapy. I’m constantly feeling inspired and nourished by these essences of the job, and it motivates me every single day to try my best on stage and off.
And who knows… perhaps I can say “here’s to another 10 years!” Long-servers David Hurley, Stephen Connolly, Al Hume and Simon Carrington would all surely endorse the idea! Watch this space…
This week marks my 10th anniversary in The King’s Singers. And what an extraordinary, thrilling and challenging 10 years it has been.
I will always remember my excitement and incredulity at being appointed into this job immediately after my impromptu audition on stage at Riga Opera House in July 2014 — and with it, the stomach-dropping feeling that my life was about to change and my career about to be fast-tracked overnight from unsure masters student in vocal studies to fully fledged, professional, world-travelling musician. How fortunate I felt to be skipping over the impending years of uncertainty and the psychological ups and the downs that seemingly come with being a solo singer at the start of their career. And yet, of course, I’ve come to realise that this job is also its own kind of rollercoaster.
The highs speak for themselves: getting to tour the world to locations as exotic and far-flung as New Zealand, the Philippines, South Africa, Colombia and the Faroe Islands; performing over a hundred concerts a year to excited and engaged audiences of many hundreds, if not thousands, of people at each sitting and being applauded for the pleasure; educating and inspiring young people — the next generation — through our love of singing and the power that music has to bring people together; getting to choose all the music we’d like to sing in our programmes, ranging from Renaissance polyphony we grew up with as choristers, to new commissions, timeless KS arrangements and everything else in between; exploring speciality coffee shops and restaurants offering the best local cuisine and culinary experiences; and meeting the kind and enthusiastic people working at the various festivals and venues we encounter every day on tour.
Personally, it’s always incredibly special to tour Japan given my maternal roots there, and I always look forward to being tour matron (of sorts!) by helping the others in my fairly decent Japanese with placing food orders, navigating the intense Japan Rail network or going over everyone’s Japanese announcements over a bento box dinner backstage before concerts. It’s also always so special to perform in concert halls that I performed in as a boy chorister or choral scholar, such as the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, St Thomas Church Fifth Ave NYC, The Cathedral Basilica of St Louis MO or Tokyo Suntory Hall. In more recent years (since the Covid pandemic) I’ve taken to running as a way of grounding myself on tour when there’s a moment in the schedule to nip out and explore the surrounding area; and of course staying in touch with loved ones back home has proved a crucial anchor to this vessel that’s predominantly in international waters at sea.
The lows of the rollercoaster are perhaps also obvious, but we tend not to focus as much on these, for it’s perhaps easier to ignore them while our overwhelming sense of gratitude and privilege for this unique job prevails. To name a few: being away from home and from loved ones for 200 days a year is disconnecting, destabilising and problematic; checking in and out of a new hotel every one or two days is disorientating and cumbersome; and waiting around at airports, train stations and car rental centres can test one’s patience!
10 years on, I continue to feel enormously fortunate to be able to sing to such a high level for a living; to have five such extraordinarily supportive, open and loving colleagues akin to family; and to be a part of an institution that has for so long inspired people around the world over to embrace singing as a hobby, profession or a form of therapy. I’m constantly feeling inspired and nourished by these essences of the job, and it motivates me every single day to try my best on stage and off.
And who knows… perhaps I can say “here’s to another 10 years!” Long-servers David Hurley, Stephen Connolly, Al Hume and Simon Carrington would all surely endorse the idea! Watch this space…
This week marks my 10th anniversary in The King’s Singers. And what an extraordinary, thrilling and challenging 10 years it has been.
I will always remember my excitement and incredulity at being appointed into this job immediately after my impromptu audition on stage at Riga Opera House in July 2014 — and with it, the stomach-dropping feeling that my life was about to change and my career about to be fast-tracked overnight from unsure masters student in vocal studies to fully fledged, professional, world-travelling musician. How fortunate I felt to be skipping over the impending years of uncertainty and the psychological ups and the downs that seemingly come with being a solo singer at the start of their career. And yet, of course, I’ve come to realise that this job is also its own kind of rollercoaster.
The highs speak for themselves: getting to tour the world to locations as exotic and far-flung as New Zealand, the Philippines, South Africa, Colombia and the Faroe Islands; performing over a hundred concerts a year to excited and engaged audiences of many hundreds, if not thousands, of people at each sitting and being applauded for the pleasure; educating and inspiring young people — the next generation — through our love of singing and the power that music has to bring people together; getting to choose all the music we’d like to sing in our programmes, ranging from Renaissance polyphony we grew up with as choristers, to new commissions, timeless KS arrangements and everything else in between; exploring speciality coffee shops and restaurants offering the best local cuisine and culinary experiences; and meeting the kind and enthusiastic people working at the various festivals and venues we encounter every day on tour.
Personally, it’s always incredibly special to tour Japan given my maternal roots there, and I always look forward to being tour matron (of sorts!) by helping the others in my fairly decent Japanese with placing food orders, navigating the intense Japan Rail network or going over everyone’s Japanese announcements over a bento box dinner backstage before concerts. It’s also always so special to perform in concert halls that I performed in as a boy chorister or choral scholar, such as the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, St Thomas Church Fifth Ave NYC, The Cathedral Basilica of St Louis MO or Tokyo Suntory Hall. In more recent years (since the Covid pandemic) I’ve taken to running as a way of grounding myself on tour when there’s a moment in the schedule to nip out and explore the surrounding area; and of course staying in touch with loved ones back home has proved a crucial anchor to this vessel that’s predominantly in international waters at sea.
The lows of the rollercoaster are perhaps also obvious, but we tend not to focus as much on these, for it’s perhaps easier to ignore them while our overwhelming sense of gratitude and privilege for this unique job prevails. To name a few: being away from home and from loved ones for 200 days a year is disconnecting, destabilising and problematic; checking in and out of a new hotel every one or two days is disorientating and cumbersome; and waiting around at airports, train stations and car rental centres can test one’s patience!
10 years on, I continue to feel enormously fortunate to be able to sing to such a high level for a living; to have five such extraordinarily supportive, open and loving colleagues akin to family; and to be a part of an institution that has for so long inspired people around the world over to embrace singing as a hobby, profession or a form of therapy. I’m constantly feeling inspired and nourished by these essences of the job, and it motivates me every single day to try my best on stage and off.
And who knows… perhaps I can say “here’s to another 10 years!” Long-servers David Hurley, Stephen Connolly, Al Hume and Simon Carrington would all surely endorse the idea! Watch this space…
This week marks my 10th anniversary in The King’s Singers. And what an extraordinary, thrilling and challenging 10 years it has been.
I will always remember my excitement and incredulity at being appointed into this job immediately after my impromptu audition on stage at Riga Opera House in July 2014 — and with it, the stomach-dropping feeling that my life was about to change and my career about to be fast-tracked overnight from unsure masters student in vocal studies to fully fledged, professional, world-travelling musician. How fortunate I felt to be skipping over the impending years of uncertainty and the psychological ups and the downs that seemingly come with being a solo singer at the start of their career. And yet, of course, I’ve come to realise that this job is also its own kind of rollercoaster.
The highs speak for themselves: getting to tour the world to locations as exotic and far-flung as New Zealand, the Philippines, South Africa, Colombia and the Faroe Islands; performing over a hundred concerts a year to excited and engaged audiences of many hundreds, if not thousands, of people at each sitting and being applauded for the pleasure; educating and inspiring young people — the next generation — through our love of singing and the power that music has to bring people together; getting to choose all the music we’d like to sing in our programmes, ranging from Renaissance polyphony we grew up with as choristers, to new commissions, timeless KS arrangements and everything else in between; exploring speciality coffee shops and restaurants offering the best local cuisine and culinary experiences; and meeting the kind and enthusiastic people working at the various festivals and venues we encounter every day on tour.
Personally, it’s always incredibly special to tour Japan given my maternal roots there, and I always look forward to being tour matron (of sorts!) by helping the others in my fairly decent Japanese with placing food orders, navigating the intense Japan Rail network or going over everyone’s Japanese announcements over a bento box dinner backstage before concerts. It’s also always so special to perform in concert halls that I performed in as a boy chorister or choral scholar, such as the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, St Thomas Church Fifth Ave NYC, The Cathedral Basilica of St Louis MO or Tokyo Suntory Hall. In more recent years (since the Covid pandemic) I’ve taken to running as a way of grounding myself on tour when there’s a moment in the schedule to nip out and explore the surrounding area; and of course staying in touch with loved ones back home has proved a crucial anchor to this vessel that’s predominantly in international waters at sea.
The lows of the rollercoaster are perhaps also obvious, but we tend not to focus as much on these, for it’s perhaps easier to ignore them while our overwhelming sense of gratitude and privilege for this unique job prevails. To name a few: being away from home and from loved ones for 200 days a year is disconnecting, destabilising and problematic; checking in and out of a new hotel every one or two days is disorientating and cumbersome; and waiting around at airports, train stations and car rental centres can test one’s patience!
10 years on, I continue to feel enormously fortunate to be able to sing to such a high level for a living; to have five such extraordinarily supportive, open and loving colleagues akin to family; and to be a part of an institution that has for so long inspired people around the world over to embrace singing as a hobby, profession or a form of therapy. I’m constantly feeling inspired and nourished by these essences of the job, and it motivates me every single day to try my best on stage and off.
And who knows… perhaps I can say “here’s to another 10 years!” Long-servers David Hurley, Stephen Connolly, Al Hume and Simon Carrington would all surely endorse the idea! Watch this space…
