When children come to audition for Darren Dailey, the songbook is about as simple as it gets.
“Row, Row, Row Your Boat” is often the song of choice for the Jacksonville Children’s Chorus artistic and executive director.
“It’s not an ‘American Idol’ audition,” said Dailey, now in his 10th year at the vocally infused nonprofit.
He asks a few questions, too, which make as much of a difference as whether the pitch is right or the rhythm is there.
Do you love to sing? (Dailey said you’d be surprised how many kids say “no.”)
Do you sing in the shower? While brushing your teeth? All around the house, nonstop all the time?
Those are the children Dailey wants to teach. The ones excited about singing, no matter how shy or outgoing they are.
In many ways, the kids he wants in the chorus are somewhat reflections of him at that age.
Dailey’s dream is, and always has been, to build a world-class children’s choir and leave a legacy.
Jacksonville has long been known as a river city. He believes it’s on its way to becoming a well-known “singing city,” too.
Finding an early love
Dailey, 49, grew up in New Jersey and, like many teenagers, would occasionally skip school.
Instead of arcades, parks or staying home to watch TV, Dailey would sometimes take the short trip to New York City to see a Broadway performance. Skip out after lunch, catch a 2 p.m. show like “The Rink” and be home before his parents would be home from work.
Dailey’s love of musicals began even earlier, when he was hooked by the seventh- and eighth-grade on shows like “A Chorus Line.”
“I was just so … taken by the dance, the singing and extraordinary music,“ said Dailey. “I wanted it to be a part of my professional life.”
His parents were supportive, but couldn’t afford formal voice or music lessons until he was a senior in high school.
That didn’t stop him from snagging a free piano from the classifieds. As-is, all he had to do was pick it up.
He got what he paid for — it had all the keys and stayed relatively in tune, but the tone was “just awful.”
“Oh, it was bad,” he said and laughed. His sister still has the piano.
Dailey looked up to James Lenny, the longtime choral director at Cranford High School. A legend in the town who molded the singers in church choirs and community chorales.
He said his teacher was a “never-give-up guy” who taught him perseverance. The two spoke somewhat regularly until Lenny passed away a couple of years ago at age 85.
Dailey met his wife of 25 years, Susanne, at Westminster Choir College and the two eventually went to Fayetteville, N.C., where he worked at a Catholic church and choir school for 13 years.
It was “fabulous,” he said, but he soon had another opportunity farther north.
Dailey was asked to start the Boston Children’s Chorus, an opportunity to be a founder and set a course for an organization from the beginning.
It was the chance of a lifetime, but after three years it just wasn’t right. In a place like Boston, there are many chorales battling for funding and kids.
Plus, there was the weather. Yes, he grew up in New Jersey, but he hated the snow and cold.
“Boston cold” is waiting for a train that’s 20 minutes late with no coffee spot to warm you up, he said. Boston cold was not for him.
Instead, Jacksonville came calling after Dailey performed as a guest conductor. It wasn’t a sure thing, though.
All about the students
Dailey’s next career step came down to the Jacksonville Children’s Chorus, which was looking for an artistic director, and a position in Dallas. He didn’t have to worry about cold weather in either place.
It was a tough decision that had him leaning toward Dallas until an eye-opening trip.
The chorus board chair took him to see the Jacksonville Symphony Orchestra at Jacoby Symphony Hall in the Times-Union Center for the Performing Arts.
He was sold.
The venue is one of the best halls in the Southeast, he said, even better than the Atlanta Symphony Hall, “in my humble but correct opinion.”
“After seeing it, I knew great things were possible,” he said.
Dailey, his wife and two daughters, Mary and Megan, made Jacksonville their home more than 10 years ago.
It started off in a hurry.
On his first day, a local TV station asked the chorus to sing live at 5 a.m. the next morning.
Dailey hadn’t met the kids, let alone rehearsed. The board chair pulled together a group of 15 or so and spent the evening rehearsing a song.
Dailey said given the time, it was a very respectable job.
Mary, now 19, and Megan, now 17, were two of his students until last year.
They were his most frequent critics, often letting their opinions be known on the car ride home.
Dad, you spent too much time on this piece. You should do this piece instead, we like it more. You didn’t do the right thing with your hands.
Dailey didn’t mind a bit. Now that they’re no longer part of the program, he’s both nervous and sad — they were such a big part of his first 10 years with the program.
The loss has helped him become even closer now to all the other children in the program. He affectionately calls them his “nieces and nephews.”
Dailey doesn’t want the spotlight. It’s all about the kids, he said.
After they perform, there’s a ritual. He signals for them to bow, they oblige and the audience applauds. He doesn’t take a bow with them.
“They are the performers,” he said.
Dailey’s mission isn’t just what happens on stage, either. It’s to make the children better people as well as better singers.
Topical issues like the importance of voting are sprinkled in with general lessons such as working together to problem-solve.
“If we are going to make this world better, it’s through them,” he said.
His idea of a legacy
During Dailey’s 10 years, the chorus has become increasingly popular.
Gigs have been easier to come by through word-of-mouth, meaning scheduling has become tighter.
For example, the holidays are jam packed this year and Dailey already is booking for December 2017.
Events can range from a Veterans Day breakfast to corporate parties to out-of-town conventions, but often the kids’ favorite venue isn’t on a big stage.
Given the choice, Dailey said, the kids likely would select area senior centers as being the most fulfilling.
“As soon as they walk in, they’re rock stars,” he said. “I wish all audiences were that excited to hear us.”
The chorus is able to keep children singing and the organization humming on a budget of about $1 million that comes mainly from tuition, event tickets, donations and grants. Currently, the program has about 350 kids, with anywhere from 24-48 in the top group of lead performers.
It’s a competitive environment, not unlike high school sports.
Dailey, like his high school teacher, holds the kids to high standards, but they also hold themselves to the same principles.
“There’s no reason to not have fun on the way to excellence,” he said.
Tuition covers about one-third of a student’s cost and about 35 percent of the kids who can’t afford the program are on partial or full scholarship.
To date, Dailey said he’s been lucky — he hasn’t had to turn away any children because of cost. Yet, he fears the chorus might have to cap the program without further funding because it has grown so much through his years.
He’d like to change that.
Dailey said when he retires in 20 years, he doesn’t just want to walk away and leave the organization to fend for itself. Ideally, he’d love to secure an endowment the chorus could use as a financial baseline each year to ensure its long-term success.
“That’s the legacy I want to leave,” he said.
Retirement, though, is still a long way off. Dailey still has plenty of music to make.
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