Music, Cats (sort of).... and More Music

What a wonderful day it’s been – my heart is still singing!

In spite of a variable weather forecast, it’s actually been sunny all day – but I’ve been indoors for a lot of it.  But being in the Minster is no hardship – such a beautiful space!  Today has taken me back to my church music roots. Forty-nine years ago (!) I spent two weeks singing Matins and Evensong every day with a bunch of Oxbridge choral scholars in Chester Cathedral – and life was never the same after that. But it was an addiction that was very hard to indulge in for a woman, even 50 years ago; vacations didn’t come often enough, and it was hard to bring the team together often.

Sunday's services

Today began with Choral Matins in the Quire – and not a big congregation; there was a sense of intimacy to it. And to hear them singing the Howells Collegium Regale Te Deum and Benedictus – that was deeply emotional for me. Such glorious music! And after the Gloucester service last night, it carried me back to the Chester summer and that first discovery.

One sneaky photo...

Straight after Matins we moved from the Quire to the nave for the Eucharist service – and this was packed; many participants wearing lanyards that denoted that they were attending General Synod, which is meeting till Tuesday morning at the University. I gather that there is still much division around Living in Love and Faith (human identity, sexuality, relationships and marriage), around Safeguarding policies, and of course around Governance, with the bishops perceived as being too quick to overrule laity issues. But for the Eucharist service, divisions were laid aside and there was some mighty singing, as only English Anglicans can do! The preacher was the Primate of the church in West Africa, and the combination of his accent and the amplification made the sermon hard to follow, but the service setting was beautiful (and unfamiliar) and the music more than made up for lack of clarity in his words.

I decided, coming out of the Minster, that I would follow the Cat Trail, and do my exploring that way. Since 1920, various builders have added cats to the buildings in York, and the Cat Shop (yes, there is a cat shop, and I’ve not been in it yet!) is the starting point for a trail around the city.  There are about 25 of them in all – some a little way out – so I focused on the within-city-walls 20 and found 17 of them. They can be found on windowsills, climbing walls, on roofs, and most of them are solid models.

About halfway through I stopped beside the river for a soup-and-salad lunch in the sunshine, and then I resumed the hunt, up the Shambles, down St Andrewsgate, and finally back almost to the start. With 45 minutes to kill, I popped into a pub with a nice courtyard and enjoyed a glass of cider and my book.

Then it was back to the Minster for Evensong at 4pm – this time in the Nave, since they had former members of the choir with them – a big group for some really big singing (though they – and the organist – can do the most delicate shading of dynamic colours when needed). There was a good sermon from the Canon Precentor who talked about the need for our church to work as a choir; to listen and tune and be aware of each other. She didn’t address the issue of the conductor as a dictator!

A pre-service drink - just in view of the Minster

Popped back to my hotel after Evensong to have time to digest my day and start some writing.  It wasn’t exactly restful – the fire alarm went off three times!  I think someone was smoking in their room. When it was time to go back to the Minster for the Early Music Festival concert by The Sixteen, it had clouded over and the rain was coming down more and more heavily.  Even with a raincoat, I was soaked by the time I got to the door – and so were most of the (large) audience – you accept that you walk everywhere in York; minimal cars and nowhere to park!

The Sixteen program

It was a wonderful concert. Most of the main nave seats had gone, and I was on the side, with a view of Harry Christophers and half a dozen of the choir, but in that space, you don’t need sightlines – the building does most of the singing, and I just closed my eyes and soaked it in. It was a program for the Byrd 400th anniversary – but not just Byrd; De Monte and Clemens Non Papa, and two new pieces commissioned from Dobrinka Tabakova, which I loved.  The BBC was recording, and the concert will be broadcast within the next few weeks, for any of you who listen to the Beeb on computer.  (I like their music programming much better than CBC...)  I had some nice intermission chat with the woman next to me who sings with the big York Music Society choir; we compared choirs-surviving-COVID stories.

Thank goodness, the rain was done when we got out, and it was a pleasant walk back for a much-needed bedtime.