NYC: Pub Choir Tour

A few months ago, I came across a Facebook ad for something called the “Pub Choir: Something to Do Tour.” The video looked amazing, but I was skeptical—it was a sponsored post, and I’d never heard of "Pub Choir" before.

Turns out, it originated in Australia, created by Astrid Jorgensen (@astridjorgy), and she was bringing it to the U.S. for the first time. Naturally, I was intrigued. @pubchoir

Who is Astrid Jorgensen?

Well, she’s a former music teacher turned choral director/emcee/leader for people to come & sing together for one night: a pop-up choir. They don’t know each other, nor have they sung together before, and they don’t even know what they’re going to sing until they get there.

Of course, I was intrigued. 

Like Astrid, I believe we can all sing, and have a right to enjoy that singing, even if it’s not perfect.

I put a post up on FB to my friends to see if anyone wanted to go with me to D.C. for the Mon. June 16th event. Even if people seemed interested, I didn’t get a lot of solid “yeses.” I had to reach out to a few friends with a solid text invitation: “Do you want to go with me to this thing, I don’t know much about it, but it’s probably going to be cool?” The fact that it was a random Monday evening, and it being 2.5 hours away was a tough sell, but I had ONE, beautiful friend commit.

Unfortunately, when the day arrived, my friend was sadly sick, and couldn’t attend. (So sorry, Rebecca!)  I DID NOT want to navigate D.C. solo, so I bailed on my pre-purchased ticket and stayed home, thoroughly sad and disappointed, chalking it up to–it just wasn’t meant to be. Sigh.

Why did I want to go so badly?

Partly, simply for research.

. 

As a former choral director, people often ask me to start a local community choir. But with everything else on my plate, a long-term commitment like that is tough. Pub Choir fascinated me—a one-night-only chorus? I wanted to see how Astrid pulled it off: what equipment she used, how she structured the evening, and what it was like to experience it as a singer in the "audience/chorus."

You see, back in my mid-20s, I spent two years as the solo emcee for a touring show called Arithmetickles. Basically, I was the assembly at your kid’s school—rolling in to prove that math was "really cool and fun." Every day, I got to make kids laugh, bring them onstage, improvise, and host a live, interactive show. I was in my element—engaging a crowd, building energy, and creating something joyful in the moment. Later that evening, I realized that what Astrid was doing onstage felt very similar to my experience as a host/emcee.

Which brings me back to Pub Choir.

By Tuesday of that week, I was still bummed I had missed the D.C. show.

Then Wednesday night hit and Astrid Jorgensen showed up on America’s Got Talent, (previously recorded, but aired that week), and I was like, “oh my gosh, she just made the whole audience sing together and even won the heart of Simon Cowell with a golden buzzer!”

The next morning—Thursday—I checked the tour schedule again. She had a show that night in New York City, at Webster Hall in the East Village. A venue I had always wanted to go to, in a city I used to call home for six years.

I had previously passed by that date because of my work and life commitments. But all day, I was like, “I really, really want to go. It’s so easy for me to drive to NYC-- I can navigate it in a heartbeat. I can drive up and back in one night, and just go do something spontaneous and crazy and joyful!” But I still felt hesitant.

My partner was like, “Just go, Jen, you really want do it.”

Ok....here...I...go!

I didn’t ask anyone to come with me this time. I just went on my own. I hopped in the car around 3:30pm on Thursday, June 19th.

From Lancaster to Philly to NYC, I drove AHEAD of a HUGE thunderstorm: Blue skies and white puffy clouds were in front of me, and dark, threatening rain was behind me the whole way.

I found free street parking 3 blocks from Webster Hall, and literally got into the building as the first drops of rain started to fall.

I’m not a stranger to traveling solo—thanks to my Arithmetickles days—but I had never been to an actual concert alone. And honestly? I was kind of excited about it. There was something freeing about experiencing the night on my own terms, without anyone else's commentary or expectations in my ear. Just me, taking it all in with fresh eyes and ears, my own observations and thoughts.

I treated myself to a light cocktail, and then headed up to the standing-room-only concert space.

I got there about 45 min. before the concert started, and there were a good number of people there already. 

If you stand close to the stage, you have a better chance of being recorded and showing up in the music video. But that wasn’t my goal, so I hung out in the back and looked onstage and saw this on the giant screen:

“That’s cool,” I thought. “Intentional. Inclusive.”

Where did I want to stand? Likely, in the middle. But, as I looked around and up, I realized there was a balcony.

Sidenote: As a short person, I generally never feel comfy in big crowds. I literally once brought a step stool to a large outdoor, concert arena, because I can never see the stage around the tall people in front of me. I am not faulting tall people, I just want my ticket to be equal to theirs in terms of seeing the stage!

So, naturally, I made my way to the balcony.

I lucked out with a “front row” spot right at the railing, perfect for setting my drink and having an unobstructed view. I was positioned just behind the light and sound board, which ended up being fascinating to watch throughout the show.

I didn’t really engage with anyone but did overhear a few conversations about how people were feeling a bit nervous about if they were going to sing it “right.”

Finally, Astrid came onstage with her microphone, and a friend with a guitar, who was basically the accompanist for the night. She also introduced her videographer for the evening, and set up the GROUND rules.

This was a delightful GROUND RULE:

After establishing the rules; she established community and comfort, and we were all going to sing together: a bunch of strangers who didn’t know what we were going to sing.

Astrid bounced around the stage giving directions, making people laugh and feel comfortable, and kept “clicking” the remote that controlled the huge white board onstage. She was a cross between a jovial emcee, a choral teacher, and a stand-up comedian.

SHE WAS AWESOME! :)  

I completely bought in to all of it (I mean, it wasn’t hard to do, but still, I was an immediate fan.)

Then came the reveal:

We were singing “Believe” by Cher.

“Do you believe in life after love?”

Iconic. Fun. Nostalgic.

Using her clicker and the massive screen as her teaching tool, she broke the song down into three vocal parts. The lyrics appeared in different colors—red for low, green for middle, blue for high—and the vertical positioning of the words gave us a rough visual of the pitch changes:

There were helpful cues, funny graphics, and the feeling of joy while you were learning something challenging.

Somehow, she taught three-part harmony to a crowd of around 1,100 people—in about 55 minutes.

And then... break time.

Everyone scattered to grab a drink, hit the bathroom, or stretch their legs.

 (I skipped the bar—had to drive back home—but enjoyed the breather.)

Standing in one place for almost an hour was definitely a challenge. I needed to move my body, as my feet were aching, so the break was helpful.

When I returned, my perfect railing spot had been taken (fair enough), so I ended up in a “second row” spot. But that little shift led to something even better.

I noticed someone nearby who, like me, seemed to be attending solo. We struck up a quick conversation—easy, warm, and genuine. Before Astrid came back on stage, we made a little pact: Let’s be singing buddies.

So when it was time to run through the song one more time before the final video take, there we were—bopping, singing, and vibing together– “pop-up” besties for the night.

My new friend was from Long Island! I could hear she was a seasoned singer, and told her so. She smiled and admitted it - yep, she was!

We also started engaging with these two "tech-ish" guys--couldn't catch where they were from--and the four of us just kind of became a little impromptu group. Laughing, harmonizing, dancing. Complete strangers, totally connected through the music.

Pure joy: simple connection through the power of singing and music. 

That’s something I’ve always loved about NYC. It doesn’t matter where you’re from—when you’re in New York, you’re a New Yorker. You’re part of the shared rhythm and hum of the city.

You occupy the same space, absorb the same energy, and whether you're from Long Island, Lancaster, or halfway across the world, you belong. It’s all welcome.

And that’s exactly what it felt like inside that Pub Choir.

.

We were all welcome—invited to sing loudly, freely, from the heart. No pressure to be perfect. No judgment. Just a joyful, come-as-you-are kind of night.

And honestly? It was damn fun.

We sang one final time, and they recorded it.

We were asked not to film it ourselves—because the official video would capture the full energy and celebration so much better. At the end, a giant QR code popped up on the screen, directing us to a site where we could drop our emails to receive the finished video.

If you want to see OFFICIAL VIDEO, here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qe8IjFffVaQ

=> I can be "found" at minute 3.40 up in the balcony of Webster Hall, in a white shirt. You can't make me out at all, but I know it's me!

Afterward, I walked down the stairs and stepped outside. Before leaving, I snapped a photo of the marquee.

As I was doing that, a couple approached and asked if I could take their picture in front of it.

They were visiting from Australia—just in town, totally by chance—and couldn’t believe Astrid was performing in NYC while they happened to be there. They told me they’d been to her events back home, where she does this kind of thing regularly at pubs, and that it’s always a blast.

“It started just a couple years ago,” they said. “We never imagined it would grow big enough to end up here.”

Hearing that from them—about how this little idea from Australia had grown into 

something global—was such a beautiful reminder of how powerful one spark can be. How music, joy, and community can ripple out farther than you ever imagine.

Then, in classic New York fashion, I grabbed a hot dog from a nearby stand ($9—what?!), laughed to myself, and decided that was my cue to leave.

At 9:40 p.m., I hopped in my car and started the drive back to Lancaster.

Tired? Yes. 

Feet aching? Definitely. 

Happy? Absolutely.

It was the perfect mix of research, spontaneity, and soul-filling joy.

On the drive home, I found myself wondering...

Could I do something like this?

Maybe one day, at Tellus 360 or Zoetropolis in Lancaster City—me, up front, leading a one-night community choir experience.

I don’t know if I actually will. It would take a lot of support, and a lot of moving pieces.

But still—what a night.

“Do you believe?” 

Yeah. I went and got the T-shirt. 

I'm glad I did.

Because that night didn’t just give me a song stuck in my head or a fun story to tell.

It honestly made me feel more connected to humanity—to strangers, to joy, to something bigger than ourselves.

by Jen L. Rose

Ed. by Kimberly Shaffer