Starlight proves a special night of music magic

By SUZANNE McFADDEN

Christine Fletcher is never short of voice in front of a crowd, but she admits she struggles to reach the high notes these days.

It had been more than 20 years since the musical mayor had warbled on stage.

Fortunately, the Mayor of Auckland had 799 other voices around her as she re-launched her singing career in front of more than 200,000 people at the Starlight Symphony in the Auckland Domain on Saturday night.

Mrs Fletcher and her husband, Angus, decided to join the Sky City Massed Choir for the concert in the park.

"I was certainly tested on the high notes - being a soprano 20 years ago was a lot easier," she said, during a break in the three-hour music and light show.

"But it's a lovely feeling to be in sync with 800 other people."

The mayor, who once sang in church and school choirs, had wanted to practise with her husband, but work had been keeping her out late.

In the bleachers next to the Fletchers sat the woman who persuaded them to sing, 70-year-old Leonie Lawson. She was also surrounded by family.

Mrs Lawson, chairwoman of the Auckland Choral Society, sat in front of her daughter Desley Simpson, and on the next tier up was her 14-year-old grandson, Andrew. It was the first time the three generations had performed together.

"It's a really special night for us," said Mrs Simpson. "Where else could you have three generations of people singing together - and in Auckland's best venue, a natural amphitheatre? My mother encouraged me to sing as a child, and now I'm encouraging my children."

The focus of the concert was children - donations were collected for the Starship and Kidz First children's hospitals, and the total will be tallied today.

Some kids even gave up their night for the cause.

Eleven-year-old Jenny Hale was one of the youngest collectors at the show, volunteering her services for the night.

The tiny Howick Intermediate pupil walked around barefoot, clutching a bucket and wearing a fluorescent green collector's bib that hung to below her knees.

Jenny only decided to help out once she arrived at the Domain, leaving her parents abandoned somewhere in the throng.

Among the sea of picnicking faces, there were the inevitable lost children and grandparents.

Some families flew flags high above the crowd as landmarks for the lost and bewildered.

Novel ensigns included a Waikato rugby jersey, a blow-up pink whale, a teddy hanging from a noose and someone's beloved old blue shirt.

One youngster who never strayed from his master's side was Horace the pitbull terrier.

The 3-year-old toffee-brown dog was nonplussed by the noise and fireworks, and simply lay faithfully at the side of his owner, Kerry Baird.

Mr Baird, who has been in a wheelchair since a motorbike crash 15 years ago, rarely goes anywhere without Horace.

"He's heard a lot of loud music at parties so it doesn't bother him," he said.

The human crowd were much more receptive than Horace to the cacophony of orchestra and gunpowder in the usual grand finale of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.

In a moment that would have pleased the Queen, at least 100,000 people stood to attention to sing Land of Hope and Glory. More, it should be said, stayed to sing the national anthem to end the show.