Beyond the Gothic palaces and canals, an ensemble sings about the workers who built a city on water - and the newcomers who sustain it.
Venice, Italy - The director nods, lifts her arms and the choir begins to sing.
At first, the only sounds are vowels. Two groups of singers, alternating, sing “oooh” and “eeeh” in a low-pitched, call-and-response rhythm. The director, an emphatic, auburn-haired woman named Giuseppina Casarin, eggs them on, moving her arms in wide circles, and they sing louder and louder. They start to sway, and their voices become brawny with confidence.
Quietly, a young Black man, Prince Damilare Alakija, the soloist, steps forward, humming. He is dressed in a faux Dolce and Gabbana T-shirt and gold chains. “You’ll be doing it right,” he begins to croon over and over. Responding to the building energy from the rest of the group, he begins to sing louder until his voice is raspy, and then he tails off, vocalising with “hey-y-ehs” and taking steps back until he returns to stand in the semicircle formed by the group.
The choir, called “Voci dal Mondo” (Voices of the World), has brought their rehearsal outside on a warm summer evening from a nondescript classroom inside a community centre to an adjoining plaza where locals passing by stop to listen.
