'The Choir of Man' Is More Than a Musical — It’s a Community

Carrie Beth Wallace
Dec 15, 2025
4 min read

Written by Carrie Beth Wallace

Images courtesy of RiverCenter for the Performing Arts; Production photos by Mark Senior and Steve Schuff

There’s a certain kind of magic that happens when a performance leans all the way into what makes live theatre unforgettable: connection, vulnerability, and the electric charge of being fully present with other people in a room. That’s the heart of The Choir of Man, the internationally acclaimed pub-set phenomenon arriving at the RiverCenter this Friday, December 19.

To understand why audiences around the world have fallen in love with The Choir of Man we sat down with Norton James—longtime cast member, Associate Director, and Swing—to talk about community, craft, and the rare alchemy that keeps this show evolving night after night. What he shared was more than a behind-the-scenes look at a hit production; it was a testament to what happens when art welcomes everyone to the table.

It's important to know that for Norton James, The Choir of Man wasn’t just another audition. When the casting brief crossed his path in 2018, James knew it felt different immediately. Instead of the usual physical descriptors, the show was searching for characters — familiar pub archetypes, the kinds of people you’d recognize instantly as friends, regulars, or strangers who somehow feel like they belong.

“That was the first brief I read where I thought, That’s me,” he says.

At the time, James was already touring with another production, but the idea of a show where he could play his guitar, sing, and inhabit a fully realized character was irresistible. Nearly seven years later, that instinct has proven right. Not only is he still with The Choir of Man, he now serves as an Associate Director, a Resident Director on tour, and one of the production’s Swings — roles that require equal parts artistry, leadership, and calm under pressure.

What has kept him there, though, isn’t just the music. For Norton James, it's the people.

At the heart of The Choir of Man is a fictional pub called The Jungle, but the community it represents is very real. James shared that each time a new cast is assembled, the rehearsal process begins not with rigid choreography or prescribed movements, but with collaboration. Performers’ individual skills shape the show itself — sometimes even prompting creative shifts back to earlier versions when a cast’s strengths call for it.

“The show changes because the people change,” James explained. “That’s the whole point.”

This people-first philosophy extends to every element of the production. The show runs 90 uninterrupted minutes, and no one leaves the stage. Every instrument is played live, and many of the vocal moments — including intricate nine-part harmonies — are performed a cappella. Some cast members have played their instruments for years; others have learned them in a matter of weeks. James himself is currently learning trumpet for the tour. He's never played it before, but it was needed for the show so he just picked it up!

And then there’s the role of the Swing.

“There are three of us on the road,” he says. “And you might get the call two minutes before curtain that you’re going on.”

Swings are often invisible to audiences, but James sees them as the show’s emotional stabilizers. The job isn’t just about memorization — it’s about staying grounded when everything around you shifts. “You have to breathe and trust yourself,” he says. “If you panic, the whole show can go off the rails.”

That steady presence mirrors the larger ethos of The Choir of Man, which James describes not as a traditional musical, but as an event. From the moment audiences walk through the theater doors, the fourth wall is gone. There’s a bar on stage. Performers mingle. Audience members are invited to sing, interact, and participate. The show doesn’t begin when the curtain rises — it begins when the doors open.

“We want people to ride the wave with us,” James says. “What happens that night belongs only to the people in that room.”

That sense of immediacy is especially powerful on tour, where some cities get just one night. Every performance is opening night. Every audience is a first impression. And for James, that responsibility is both humbling and exhilarating.

But the deepest connection, he says, happens offstage.

Over the years, James has built a brotherhood through the show — cast members from across the U.S., the UK, New Zealand, Italy, Portugal, and beyond. He likens it to pub culture back home, where people gather not just to celebrate, but to process life together. That shared space has taken on even greater meaning through loss.

During his time with The Choir of Man, James has lost several close family members. On nights when his grief felt overwhelming, he still chose to perform — not out of obligation, but because the community onstage held him up.

“There were moments where we were singing with an arm around each other’s shoulders,” he recalls. “That’s what they would have wanted.”

That lived experience informs one of the show’s most resonant themes: men’s mental health. Without preaching, The Choir of Man creates space for vulnerability — challenging the idea that strength means silence. James puts it simply: there’s a difference between asking “How are you?” and actually meaning it.

When audiences leave the theater, he hopes they carry that message with them. “We’re stronger together than we are apart,” he says. “Without the audience, we don’t have a show. Without each other, life can be really hard.”

His advice to first-time attendees? "Come open. Bring friends who love musicals and friends who swear they don’t. Warm up your voice, and don’t be afraid to join in!"

Above all, Norton James hopes audiences feel welcomed — into the pub, into the music, and into a shared moment that exists only once.

“That’s the magic,” he says. “It’s alive. And at The Choir of Man, it belongs to everyone in the room.” ◼️