Introduction
Sandrey Date is an example to us all. When he learnt that he was terminally ill, he decided that he would take the opportunity to thank all the friends who had walked with him on his journey through a rewarding life.
Though I hope I have a few more years left in me, now is the time to thank, in chronological order, Jack Hill, George Gray, Ivor Keys, Denis Arnold, James Gaddarn, Geoffrey Hughes, Trevor Doar, Stephen Binnington, Neville Creed, Nigel Perrin, John Hughes, Gavin Carr and most recently Benedict Collins Rice. These are the people who have guided the different choirs I have sung in, have taught me so much about music, and probably about life in general, and have contributed enormously to some of the greatest moments in my life. I should also mention at this point Marilyn Archer who gave me singing lessons and improved my technique. Up till then I got by because I was a good sight-reader and was able to hold my line, but with her input I have become a much better singer.
There have been three constants in my life: my Christian faith, my support for Leicester City Football Club, and my choral singing. I was very fortunate to be brought up in a Christian household, and my faith has stayed with me throughout my life. While my church attendance has at times lapsed, and on such a deep subject one inevitably has doubts, ultimately being a Christian has always seemed natural. One thing that has fascinated me is the number of great composers, such as Mozart, Beethoven and Verdi, who while not outwardly men of faith, turned to Christian texts to produce some of the most profound music ever written.
What has often been pointed out is that the loyalty that football fans feel towards their team defies logic. Being a Leicester City supporter has meant that there have been a lot of lows and an enormous high. Three momentous events took place in 2016: the UK voted to leave the European Union, Donald Trump was elected President of the US, and Leicester City won the Premier League. If you asked me which I would prefer, the current state of affairs, or no Brexit, no Trump and no Premiership, I would probably say the former. One of the greatest days of my life was going to Leicester in May 2016 on the day of the big celebration and procession. There is nothing quite like being in a city full of people who are all happy, in a generous spirit and ready to help each other, with never an angry, complaining or disgruntled word spoken.
There is also nothing quite like shared music making. Getting together with people (who might be complete strangers) to produce something good, is one of the most rewarding things you can do. Rehearsals, and practicing at home, can get boring, but when it all comes together you know that it has been worthwhile. I am fortunate enough to have performed with great musicians in prestigious venues, but when a person tells you at the end of a service in a small village church how much the music has meant to them, to me that is as important as the audience cheering in the Royal Albert Hall.
The social interaction in choirs is also important. I am not very good at small talk, but when meeting up with a group of people that you know you have something in common with, I find I can easily start a conversation even if it is the first time we have met. I have made many friends in the different choirs I have sung with. The current bass section in the Bath Bach Choir is a friendly group and I must particularly mention Bob Hussey and Brian Woodford who I sat next to for many years. Bob retired at the end of 2022 and Brian sadly passed away in January 2024, a great loss to the choir.
Over the many years I have sung with Bournemouth Symphony Chorus, I have made many friends, in particular among the basses Clive Erskine, Howard Dalton, John Martindale and John Turpin. But there are in particular two special people, Sandrey and Carolyn Date. I had not progressed very far with these writings when I received the sad news that Sandrey had passed away, so he has been very much in my thoughts.
I first got to know them properly when Sandrey and I were the only two second basses from the Chorus to join up with a scratch choir to perform Walton's Belshazzar's Feast in Bristol. Up to that point I had been singing first bass, but he persuaded me that my voice was more suitable in the seconds. He suggested not just that I arrange to transfer at our next rehearsal, but that I should sit next to him.
I realised soon that he was not just a fine musician but extremely knowledgeable about all kinds of classical music. I'm not sure how wide his general musical tastes were, as he disapproved of me liking the Rolling Stones. He was good company and very supportive. He is also the only person I know who could fall asleep in rehearsals and get away with it, often to the amusement of those sitting around him.
I moved away from Dorset in 1992 and stopped singing regularly with the Chorus just before Carolyn became secretary (later Chorus Manager). I kept in touch, and was regularly invited to help out when extra singers were needed. They would also on occasions put me up in their spare bedroom.
In 2015 I signed up to sing Verdi Requiem with the Chorus in Mumbai. Carolyn invited me to join a group of them for an extra week visiting Delhi, Agra and Shimla. Over the following New Year she organised a non-singing holiday in Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. In 2018 the Chorus returned to Mumbai, and again extra sight-seeing was organised. These are three of the most enjoyable holidays I have had recently. We were all happy for Carolyn to take charge as she could organise us all most competently. Sandrey had an issue with foreign food, so an abiding memory of these trips was the rest of us sampling exotic local dishes while he tucked into his pork chop.
The last time I saw Sandrey was at the London premiere of Richard Blackford's Pieta in 2019. He was unable to sing with us because of his cancer treatment, but he seemed to be in good form. It's difficult to believe that I will never join him again on the back row.
The title I have given to these reminiscences is nothing to do with rugby union. When you are a tall second bass it is natural to find your place at the back of the choir. This means that you are furthest away from the conductor, though we would never take advantage of that! We have a totally unjustified reputation for being slightly behind the beat, which means that we get blamed for things going wrong in other parts. We must therefore stick together.
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