I speak so often in these pages about the wonders of the variety of King's Singers life; amongst all the concerts we perform, some of the most dramatic and memorable occur when we visit Salt Lake City and join forces with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - "America's Choir."My first experience of this was in 2007, when we were the choir's guests at the Christmas concert they put on every year, which is broadcast by PBS and usually rates as the top-watched broadcast of the year. Back then I was ill-prepared for the experience of performing in a 21,000 seat arena, over 4 days, with another 3,000 watching in the nearby Tabernacle via live feed - meaning a combined live audience of over 100,000. This time I knew what to expect - or, at least, I thought I did. The truth is, you can never quite get used to life on this scale. Because of the sheer number of people, and the recognition that being in the KS grants in this part of the world, this is probably as close to being a "celebrity" as we'll ever get. We have to have security, pre-planned driving schedules, secure routes to and from the hotel, and (most difficult of all) there is little or no audience interaction. It's an interesting process - enjoyable, in a unique way, but different. Being on a stage that's large enough to accommodate an average passenger jet has its challenges, too. The Conference Center is kitted out with some of the finest audio tech on the planet (it's pretty much the largest recording studio you'll ever see) and the team does an incredible job to ensure we can sing in our normal way and still be projected to every seat in the house, but it certainly loses some intimacy of sound and it's more difficult to communicate with people who you can't really see. You're certainly aware of their presence, though, and in particular I'm looking forward to performing a medley of children's songs this evening: each one is beloved of families in this area, and I'm hoping for a great reaction from the crown. The age-old line "give the people what they want" rings particularly true in choral performance, which is why we regularly seek out local songs (in whatever language) and present them as our gift to the audience. However, the overwhelming experience when we are fortunate to perform in Salt Lake, and especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, is of the joy of singing and the joy of sharing our music with as many people as possible. Music changes lives, here and elsewhere, and during these performances we feel part of something bigger than ourselves; something that should never be taken for granted and which will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
I speak so often in these pages about the wonders of the variety of King's Singers life; amongst all the concerts we perform, some of the most dramatic and memorable occur when we visit Salt Lake City and join forces with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - "America's Choir."My first experience of this was in 2007, when we were the choir's guests at the Christmas concert they put on every year, which is broadcast by PBS and usually rates as the top-watched broadcast of the year. Back then I was ill-prepared for the experience of performing in a 21,000 seat arena, over 4 days, with another 3,000 watching in the nearby Tabernacle via live feed - meaning a combined live audience of over 100,000. This time I knew what to expect - or, at least, I thought I did. The truth is, you can never quite get used to life on this scale. Because of the sheer number of people, and the recognition that being in the KS grants in this part of the world, this is probably as close to being a "celebrity" as we'll ever get. We have to have security, pre-planned driving schedules, secure routes to and from the hotel, and (most difficult of all) there is little or no audience interaction. It's an interesting process - enjoyable, in a unique way, but different. Being on a stage that's large enough to accommodate an average passenger jet has its challenges, too. The Conference Center is kitted out with some of the finest audio tech on the planet (it's pretty much the largest recording studio you'll ever see) and the team does an incredible job to ensure we can sing in our normal way and still be projected to every seat in the house, but it certainly loses some intimacy of sound and it's more difficult to communicate with people who you can't really see. You're certainly aware of their presence, though, and in particular I'm looking forward to performing a medley of children's songs this evening: each one is beloved of families in this area, and I'm hoping for a great reaction from the crown. The age-old line "give the people what they want" rings particularly true in choral performance, which is why we regularly seek out local songs (in whatever language) and present them as our gift to the audience. However, the overwhelming experience when we are fortunate to perform in Salt Lake, and especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, is of the joy of singing and the joy of sharing our music with as many people as possible. Music changes lives, here and elsewhere, and during these performances we feel part of something bigger than ourselves; something that should never be taken for granted and which will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
I speak so often in these pages about the wonders of the variety of King's Singers life; amongst all the concerts we perform, some of the most dramatic and memorable occur when we visit Salt Lake City and join forces with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - "America's Choir."My first experience of this was in 2007, when we were the choir's guests at the Christmas concert they put on every year, which is broadcast by PBS and usually rates as the top-watched broadcast of the year. Back then I was ill-prepared for the experience of performing in a 21,000 seat arena, over 4 days, with another 3,000 watching in the nearby Tabernacle via live feed - meaning a combined live audience of over 100,000. This time I knew what to expect - or, at least, I thought I did. The truth is, you can never quite get used to life on this scale. Because of the sheer number of people, and the recognition that being in the KS grants in this part of the world, this is probably as close to being a "celebrity" as we'll ever get. We have to have security, pre-planned driving schedules, secure routes to and from the hotel, and (most difficult of all) there is little or no audience interaction. It's an interesting process - enjoyable, in a unique way, but different. Being on a stage that's large enough to accommodate an average passenger jet has its challenges, too. The Conference Center is kitted out with some of the finest audio tech on the planet (it's pretty much the largest recording studio you'll ever see) and the team does an incredible job to ensure we can sing in our normal way and still be projected to every seat in the house, but it certainly loses some intimacy of sound and it's more difficult to communicate with people who you can't really see. You're certainly aware of their presence, though, and in particular I'm looking forward to performing a medley of children's songs this evening: each one is beloved of families in this area, and I'm hoping for a great reaction from the crown. The age-old line "give the people what they want" rings particularly true in choral performance, which is why we regularly seek out local songs (in whatever language) and present them as our gift to the audience. However, the overwhelming experience when we are fortunate to perform in Salt Lake, and especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, is of the joy of singing and the joy of sharing our music with as many people as possible. Music changes lives, here and elsewhere, and during these performances we feel part of something bigger than ourselves; something that should never be taken for granted and which will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
I speak so often in these pages about the wonders of the variety of King's Singers life; amongst all the concerts we perform, some of the most dramatic and memorable occur when we visit Salt Lake City and join forces with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - "America's Choir."My first experience of this was in 2007, when we were the choir's guests at the Christmas concert they put on every year, which is broadcast by PBS and usually rates as the top-watched broadcast of the year. Back then I was ill-prepared for the experience of performing in a 21,000 seat arena, over 4 days, with another 3,000 watching in the nearby Tabernacle via live feed - meaning a combined live audience of over 100,000. This time I knew what to expect - or, at least, I thought I did. The truth is, you can never quite get used to life on this scale. Because of the sheer number of people, and the recognition that being in the KS grants in this part of the world, this is probably as close to being a "celebrity" as we'll ever get. We have to have security, pre-planned driving schedules, secure routes to and from the hotel, and (most difficult of all) there is little or no audience interaction. It's an interesting process - enjoyable, in a unique way, but different. Being on a stage that's large enough to accommodate an average passenger jet has its challenges, too. The Conference Center is kitted out with some of the finest audio tech on the planet (it's pretty much the largest recording studio you'll ever see) and the team does an incredible job to ensure we can sing in our normal way and still be projected to every seat in the house, but it certainly loses some intimacy of sound and it's more difficult to communicate with people who you can't really see. You're certainly aware of their presence, though, and in particular I'm looking forward to performing a medley of children's songs this evening: each one is beloved of families in this area, and I'm hoping for a great reaction from the crown. The age-old line "give the people what they want" rings particularly true in choral performance, which is why we regularly seek out local songs (in whatever language) and present them as our gift to the audience. However, the overwhelming experience when we are fortunate to perform in Salt Lake, and especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, is of the joy of singing and the joy of sharing our music with as many people as possible. Music changes lives, here and elsewhere, and during these performances we feel part of something bigger than ourselves; something that should never be taken for granted and which will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
I speak so often in these pages about the wonders of the variety of King's Singers life; amongst all the concerts we perform, some of the most dramatic and memorable occur when we visit Salt Lake City and join forces with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - "America's Choir."My first experience of this was in 2007, when we were the choir's guests at the Christmas concert they put on every year, which is broadcast by PBS and usually rates as the top-watched broadcast of the year. Back then I was ill-prepared for the experience of performing in a 21,000 seat arena, over 4 days, with another 3,000 watching in the nearby Tabernacle via live feed - meaning a combined live audience of over 100,000. This time I knew what to expect - or, at least, I thought I did. The truth is, you can never quite get used to life on this scale. Because of the sheer number of people, and the recognition that being in the KS grants in this part of the world, this is probably as close to being a "celebrity" as we'll ever get. We have to have security, pre-planned driving schedules, secure routes to and from the hotel, and (most difficult of all) there is little or no audience interaction. It's an interesting process - enjoyable, in a unique way, but different. Being on a stage that's large enough to accommodate an average passenger jet has its challenges, too. The Conference Center is kitted out with some of the finest audio tech on the planet (it's pretty much the largest recording studio you'll ever see) and the team does an incredible job to ensure we can sing in our normal way and still be projected to every seat in the house, but it certainly loses some intimacy of sound and it's more difficult to communicate with people who you can't really see. You're certainly aware of their presence, though, and in particular I'm looking forward to performing a medley of children's songs this evening: each one is beloved of families in this area, and I'm hoping for a great reaction from the crown. The age-old line "give the people what they want" rings particularly true in choral performance, which is why we regularly seek out local songs (in whatever language) and present them as our gift to the audience. However, the overwhelming experience when we are fortunate to perform in Salt Lake, and especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, is of the joy of singing and the joy of sharing our music with as many people as possible. Music changes lives, here and elsewhere, and during these performances we feel part of something bigger than ourselves; something that should never be taken for granted and which will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
I speak so often in these pages about the wonders of the variety of King's Singers life; amongst all the concerts we perform, some of the most dramatic and memorable occur when we visit Salt Lake City and join forces with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - "America's Choir."My first experience of this was in 2007, when we were the choir's guests at the Christmas concert they put on every year, which is broadcast by PBS and usually rates as the top-watched broadcast of the year. Back then I was ill-prepared for the experience of performing in a 21,000 seat arena, over 4 days, with another 3,000 watching in the nearby Tabernacle via live feed - meaning a combined live audience of over 100,000. This time I knew what to expect - or, at least, I thought I did. The truth is, you can never quite get used to life on this scale. Because of the sheer number of people, and the recognition that being in the KS grants in this part of the world, this is probably as close to being a "celebrity" as we'll ever get. We have to have security, pre-planned driving schedules, secure routes to and from the hotel, and (most difficult of all) there is little or no audience interaction. It's an interesting process - enjoyable, in a unique way, but different. Being on a stage that's large enough to accommodate an average passenger jet has its challenges, too. The Conference Center is kitted out with some of the finest audio tech on the planet (it's pretty much the largest recording studio you'll ever see) and the team does an incredible job to ensure we can sing in our normal way and still be projected to every seat in the house, but it certainly loses some intimacy of sound and it's more difficult to communicate with people who you can't really see. You're certainly aware of their presence, though, and in particular I'm looking forward to performing a medley of children's songs this evening: each one is beloved of families in this area, and I'm hoping for a great reaction from the crown. The age-old line "give the people what they want" rings particularly true in choral performance, which is why we regularly seek out local songs (in whatever language) and present them as our gift to the audience. However, the overwhelming experience when we are fortunate to perform in Salt Lake, and especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, is of the joy of singing and the joy of sharing our music with as many people as possible. Music changes lives, here and elsewhere, and during these performances we feel part of something bigger than ourselves; something that should never be taken for granted and which will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
I speak so often in these pages about the wonders of the variety of King's Singers life; amongst all the concerts we perform, some of the most dramatic and memorable occur when we visit Salt Lake City and join forces with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - "America's Choir."My first experience of this was in 2007, when we were the choir's guests at the Christmas concert they put on every year, which is broadcast by PBS and usually rates as the top-watched broadcast of the year. Back then I was ill-prepared for the experience of performing in a 21,000 seat arena, over 4 days, with another 3,000 watching in the nearby Tabernacle via live feed - meaning a combined live audience of over 100,000. This time I knew what to expect - or, at least, I thought I did. The truth is, you can never quite get used to life on this scale. Because of the sheer number of people, and the recognition that being in the KS grants in this part of the world, this is probably as close to being a "celebrity" as we'll ever get. We have to have security, pre-planned driving schedules, secure routes to and from the hotel, and (most difficult of all) there is little or no audience interaction. It's an interesting process - enjoyable, in a unique way, but different. Being on a stage that's large enough to accommodate an average passenger jet has its challenges, too. The Conference Center is kitted out with some of the finest audio tech on the planet (it's pretty much the largest recording studio you'll ever see) and the team does an incredible job to ensure we can sing in our normal way and still be projected to every seat in the house, but it certainly loses some intimacy of sound and it's more difficult to communicate with people who you can't really see. You're certainly aware of their presence, though, and in particular I'm looking forward to performing a medley of children's songs this evening: each one is beloved of families in this area, and I'm hoping for a great reaction from the crown. The age-old line "give the people what they want" rings particularly true in choral performance, which is why we regularly seek out local songs (in whatever language) and present them as our gift to the audience. However, the overwhelming experience when we are fortunate to perform in Salt Lake, and especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, is of the joy of singing and the joy of sharing our music with as many people as possible. Music changes lives, here and elsewhere, and during these performances we feel part of something bigger than ourselves; something that should never be taken for granted and which will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
