by LOLA KARPF
I recently got back from a retreat in January with my big sister – but before ghastly images of awkward spiritual classes, essential oils and finding your chakra come to mind, you should know that this retreat was different (although there was some yoga involved, yes). This was a singing retreat with the all-female choir we’ve been attending for five years, SHE Choir. SHE is a collaborative choir for anyone who identifies as a woman. No prior musical knowledge or experience is needed and it’s free, opening it up to a wider range of people than choirs that audition or charge. During the weekend, we sang and did workshops with seventy other women from SHE Choirs in London, Manchester, Newcastle and Berlin – there’s even one in Melbourne now, although they couldn’t make it to the retreat…slackers. The SHE Choir Retreat was a coming-together of each respective choir under the big and beautiful banner of SHE – and it was some of the most fun I’d had in ages. It was exhilarating (and intense!) being with so many other women of all ages in one place, some of whom I’d never met, others whom I knew well.
Discussions throughout the weekend were interesting. We talked about our SHEthos (warning: more SHE puns to come) and the values of the choir; we discussed diversity and representation, inclusivity and the myriad of different meanings contained in identifying as a woman. On the first night, I attended the ‘Singing in the Dark’ workshop, which involved lying down in a huge, raftered hall and making any sound you liked. The result was incredible: our voices moved together in waves, from low rumbles to high-pitched peaks, to soft, gentle sounds that carried you through the dark. People made calls and clicking, evoking a jungle alive with animals.
Throughout the weekend, there would be spontaneous explosions of singing and rounds, no matter where we were. We learned songs like Losing You by Solange Knowles and Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap. There were arrangement workshops that taught how to take any song and put together different parts for tops, middles and bottoms – something I had always wanted to ascertain, but was terrified to do. All of this culminated in the boozy and entertaining open mic night on Saturday, where anyone had the chance to perform (alongside instruments) and there were all-choir renditions of old favourites by Destiny’s Child, Hot Chip and The National, including garage and 80s mash-ups.
Finally, on the Sunday, we had a large go-round in the raftered hall, where every woman had the opportunity to share her thoughts on the weekend and SHE Choir in general. What I didn’t expect was the huge outpouring of emotion about the way in which SHE had been present in people’s lives. This can only be described as SHEmotion: a unique and particular type of love and appreciation. Women talked about the mental health problems they had had to overcome and how singing had dispelled their anxiety, allowing them to feel stronger and do things they had never done before. Others talked about how their previous relationships with women were difficult, competitive and bitchy, but that SHE Choir had revolutionised these interactions. SHE meant being on the ‘same side’, with support and a lack of judgement. It was truly amazing listening to these stories; one woman even said how the choir had taught her how to ‘become a woman’.
Sat in that circle, with seventy other women crying and laughing (often at the same time), we acknowledged how society doesn’t encourage us to foster these kinds of relationships with other women, but rather pits us against one another, in a harmful way. And so I began to think about how lucky I am to have access to such an accepting environment, an all-female environment. The importance of these female spaces is becoming evermore apparent, with the rise of misogyny promoted by Donald Trump and the legitimacy people feel they have been given in their sexist attitudes towards women.
After an impassioned recount of my weekend, a male friend asked me “Why only women?”, and honestly, I couldn’t answer him. The value of being in an all-female space with such support is something I feel in myself, rather than something I can articulate. It’s a sensation that stays with you long after, empowering you in other aspects of your life, making you feel worthy. This same friend asked me if there was a HE Choir – a reasonable request. I believe all-men’s groups to be of equal importance in cultivating respect and understanding amongst men. My dad has been participating in a ‘men’s group’ once a week for thirty-four years; a gathering of close friends that discuss their lives, relationships and feelings, and now a staple in his life.
Ultimately, the thing that gets me most is how much singing can bring people together; it is a great equaliser. No matter your background, age, ethnicity, ability, sexuality, or any other demographic that ‘should’ separate you, anyone can make music, and the beauty in creating that one sound can build bridges.