Dementia choir that proves the unique healing power of music
Music therapy works. Line Of Duty actress Vicky Mcclure proved the astonishing health benefits again and again in Our
Dementia Choir (BBc1).
For the past 20 years, i’ve recommended anyone with an autistic child to try it. Aged three, my son David could neither speak nor understand words. He was able to communicate only by screaming, which he did with gusto.
But he did seem soothed by all sorts of music. We tried music therapy and, within a couple of sessions, David was singing. Even though he didn’t know what the words meant, he started to express his emotions with songs. We had found a way into his brain.
The same effects were visible and profound for Vicky’s choristers. Depression lifted, confusion ebbed, memory grew stronger, personality emerged from the darkness. When the singing started, the choir of people with Alzheimer’s and other dementias began to glow, like the embers of a fire when a breeze blows.
‘We really do need to roll this out nationwide,’ Vicky urged. ‘ it is proven — it’s having a huge effect on people’s lives.’
The psychological and medical tests done over 12 weeks on her singers backed this up — and it’s
Landlord’, listened to a scratchy recording he’d made aged 18. He had a beautiful operatic baritone in those days, but sadly his voice was now reduced to a croak.
choirmaster Mark De-Lisser, who usually works with gospel voices, did a magnificent job of coaxing a heartbreaking performance of The Beatles’ in My Life from his untrained singers. For anyone living with dementia, this programme was full of hope.
Hope fell a few minutes later, however, at the outset of Ambulance (BBc1). Emergency calls flooded in to the 999 control centre in Manchester. A man of 86 called, voice heavy with despair, to say: ‘i’ve killed my wife.’
The call handler went white, as the man on the line explained that the dead woman had suffered from severe dementia. ‘i couldn’t cope,’ he said. Maintaining his composure with great professionalism, the handler asked if a weapon had been used. ‘Only a lump of iron,’ said the man.
This series is unparalleled at showing us brutal tranches of reality. it isn’t all bleak, of course: plenty of the patients have stories to tell that offer a smile. But the format is let down a little when the paramedics in the ambulance try too hard to entertain us.
They’re saving lives — they don’t need to be stand- up comedians while they do it.