Harmony and Hilarity: A Baritone's Take on Choir Camp

Often when I tell people I’m going on a choir camp, I truly wonder what they imagine. A pack of singing scouts frolicking through the bush, harmonising with the birds? A Von Trapp family reunion gone rogue? The reality is both close to that… and nothing like it.

This year marked my second Vox Chamber Choir Camp, hosted at Markon River Lodge near Bronkhorstspruit. The drive should have been a simple hour and a bit—emphasis on should have been. Instead, we found ourselves on an impromptu adventure course, with even the tiniest of cars attempting some off-brand 4x4 bundu bashing. Picture a convoy of choir nerds, gripping their steering wheels and singing high notes of panic over the rough terrain. It was less Sound of Music and more Fast & Furious: Alto Edition.

Once we arrived safely at our home away from home, we squeezed in a quick workshop before cracking open our first celebratory drink. (Balance is important—hydration and vocal lubrication.) We also made time to celebrate Bérn's 50th birthday, showering him with bubbly and delivering a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday in full SATB glory. Because what’s a choir camp without a little spontaneous four-part harmony?

We were sternly warned not to binge-kuier on Friday night, as Saturday was not for the faint of heart. And they weren’t lying. The day was packed with rehearsals, including wrapping up a third of “Kroon van Wonders” (the final instalment of of Franco Prinsloo's acclaimed Afrikaans oratorio trilogy) and polishing our Mother’s Day Festival repertoire. We even had masterclasses from the phenomenal Marlize Venter (first soprano) and Chris Vale (second tenor). Hearing them belt out the pieces we were expected to replicate was equal parts inspiring and terrifying. Kind of like watching an Olympic athlete and realising, “Ah yes, I, too, have legs.”

Of course, choir camp isn’t just about singing—it’s also about proving who reigns supreme in completely unrelated challenges. We split into teams for some highly competitive non-musical games, because clearly, we need to showcase our alternative talents. While I’m not sure how these particular skills will serve us in the future (unless there’s a choral emergency requiring tissue plucking or sorting my cereals), at least we had fun.

Then came the big event—our final rehearsal before the legendary Voxtette Potjiekos Competition. Now, you might think a potjiekos competition is simply about cooking a delicious stew. But no. Not with this crowd. Throw a bunch of choir nerds into a camp, add a theme (Cowboys and Aliens), and you get a full-blown theatrical production.

Some took the theme quite literally (Stetsons and little green men were spotted), while others leaned into current affairs—think Mexican walls and certain orange faces (subtle, we are not). The dedication was next-level. From the moment we arrived on Friday, "Wanted" posters, mysterious red stickers, and coordinated team outfits started appearing. Even my water bottle is still sporting a rogue red sticker—proof that this competition is not for the unprepared.

Here’s how it works: Each team makes a potjie—which, while important, is only part of the competition. Points are also awarded for team engagement, theme interpretation, and the dreaded Voxtette performance (judged earlier by our ever-watchful Maestro). All of this is, of course, in pursuit of the coveted Marianka Naudé Wisseltroffee.

This year, The Fanny Mendelssohn Memorial Singers (read more about the Voxtette here) walked away with the win. Their potjie was delicious, and they were also responsible for some of the more… questionable “Wanted” photos that had people muttering, “Wait, who is that??”

Oh, did I mention all of this happened during a torrential downpour? Nothing like the challenge of cooking over an open flame while trying not to drown. But hey, what’s a little extreme weather when there’s glory and good food at stake? We powered through, spirits un-dampened, and “kuiered” well into the early hours of Sunday morning.

Sunday’s session, led by Anja, brought everything full circle. She has this incredible way of helping people speak their truth, and it always turns into an emotional, heartfelt experience. It’s a reminder that beyond the music, beyond the games and competitions, what we have in this choir is something deeper. A true community.

Because in the end, choir camp isn’t just about rehearsals or even the fun and chaos—it’s about that indescribable magic that happens when we come together. Something that’s impossible to bottle or explain to anyone who wasn’t there. A real “you had to be there” sensation. And I, for one, will treasure every moment until the next Vox Chamber Choir Camp rolls around.

As Helen Keller wisely said:"Alone, we can do so little; together, we can do so much."

And if “so much” includes singing, laughing, dodging torrential rain, and possibly forming the first-ever Potjiekos Musical Theatre Company, then count me in.