All-male choral ensemble mixes singing and beer

VERO BEACH — On Sunday nights, the choir room of Community Church turns into a man cave for an hour and a half while a couple of dozen guys get together to raise their voices as loud as they want.

There’s no big screen TV and no football, though they do go to a pub afterward.

These men are singers who want to create the singularly deep and resonant sound of an all-male chorus.

Following in the tradition of college glee clubs, Ryan Kasten, assistant music director at the church, created Mannerchor a year and a half ago. To his knowledge it is the only all-male singing group between Melbourne and Stuart.

While glee clubs and a capella groups can be highly selective, Mannechor is open to “pretty much anyone who loves to sing,” Kasten says, “whether they can read music or not.”

The ensemble, still in its infant stages, is rehearsing for its fourth concert, a program of patriotic music scheduled for – of all days – Mother’s Day.

The men sing in a range of styles including barbershop, jazz, and traditional choral music that over the ages has been written for men.

“There’s a unique and very rich sound in the male chorus,” says Kasten, who participated in Florida State University’s Men’s Glee Club as a graduate student. “It just has a sense of gravity and richness that you don’t hear in an ‘SATB’ (soprano-alto-tenor-bass) choir.”

The men of Mannerchor also take part in a ritual key to the cohesion of such a group: they go out for beers afterwards.

“That’s typical of a men’s chorus,” says Kasten, though he sticks to soda himself.

While the guzzling is under the guise of rehydration, says Kasten , a secondary benefit is that when they’ve had a few, the guys tend to talk more about themselves. That bond, he says, serves to unify the group – they look out for each other and lend support instead of criticism.

“Guys being guys, there’s a brotherhood that becomes apparent when you have this kind of ensemble. They genuinely care and become concerned if one of them isn’t there. It becomes a fraternity without the hazing.”

His open-door policy hasn’t led to any tone-deaf wailing yet.

“So far most of the guys who’ve shown up have been able to match pitch and hold their own part.”

That doesn’t mean he isn’t trained to deal with that sort of choral diplomacy.

“It’s a conductor’s worst nightmare,” he says. “Unfortunately they are usually the ones with the loudest voices. It’s not a fun thing. But if that’s the case, we try to be very supportive. I’ll tell them, ‘I’m glad you’re here, we love your spirit, we love your energy. Stay with us, sing quietly and learn as you go.’”

While they take the music seriously, there is gender-specific humor as well; Kasten does not elaborate except to say “you probably wouldn’t say it in a traditional mixed chorus.”

Kasten conducts the church’s children’s choir and assists with its many musical groups, including those like Mannerchor that include members outside of the Community Church congregation.

He also conducts a bell choir, the Atlantic Ringers, which he happily announced is having its first real gig outside of Vero next month at St. Bernadette Catholic Church in Port St. Lucie.

Kasten is also in the running for artistic director of the Indialantic Chamber Singers, a group similar to the Vero Beach Choral Society. He conducted the 40-voice chorus’s fall program, driving weekly to the town on Melbourne’s barrier island.

Meanwhile, he lacks only his dissertation to receive his Ph.D. in organ performance from Florida State.

“I keep saying there’s a thesis somewhere in these choral ensembles,” he says. The concept: If choral ensembles socialize together, do they actually sound better?

“I saw a study that said choral singers’ heart rates start to mesh, slowing down or speeding up according to the music,” he says.

“Ensembles that socialize are more cohesive,” he says. “You don’t have the divas and you learn the dirt on each other and you realize nobody there is better than anybody else.”

As for their favorite post-croonial hang-out, it is Hurricanes, the wings joint on US 1.

“They have 28 beers on tap,” he says.

Apart from the occasional “Happy Birthday” for a customer, the group tries not to burst into song.

“We don’t want to annoy the servers. They’re so good to us,” Kasten says.

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