My reader will know that I was called in to play for a special service on September 9th.
I sent in my invoice, not having been told what the fee was although I have played there before, and I didn't charge the full amount as there were only a couple on hymns and an anthem. (I did spend quite some time polishing it)
Although the choir director has been in touch and promised to chivvy the treasurer up I have still not been paid. I hope they deal with their invoices at the end of each month.
I have been going to church for a very long time because my parents promised my Grandparents (I don't think I have any Godparents) that they would ensure that I did. Initially I went to a Sudnay School at a Methodist church. When I became a chorister at the cathedral we - as a family - embraced the CofE and the rest is history.
If church-going drummed one thing home to my sister and I, back in the day, it was that telling the truth was absolutely vital. We were also brought up with characters such as Mrs-Do-As-You-Would-Be-Done-By as well as Biblical characters. So I get really fed up (P'd off) when people do not treat me correctly, as will be seen from previous posts.
What has prompted this post today is that on Yahoo there is a report that Liz Truss hass been criticised over ‘wildly dangerous’ false claims about £2,500 maximum energy bills.
It seems to me that we have exchanged one Prime Minister, whose view of the truth was askew from the norm, for yet another politician who does not know how to utter facts which are not wide of the mark, let's say.
I suppose going to church does not make one honest but I am sure that the decline of church-going has had a negative effect on society. We have lived for a long time in an England in which it seems OK to be 'economical with the truth'.
What is not generally realised by people, I feel, is that church services take place during the week between Sundays. Vicars are obliged to say the daily office and often do so by themselves.
I went out recording headstone inscripitons today and the church lights were on: there were just a couple of cars parked outside the church gate whereas, normally, there are none. I wondered if it was a meeting of some sort. I didn't need to enter the church because, pausing by the south door, I could clearly hear words which I recognised a part of the communion rite.
Eventually the vicar and an older gentleman emerged and walked up the churchyard path. I introduced myself because - although the PCC know am working on the MIs - the vicar has not actually been on touch, although he knew about it.
He thought I was part of the The National Burial Grounds Survey and wondered where my special equipment was. I said I just had a camera, paper and pencil.
The National survey will not - as far as I know - record inscriptions but what I have seen so far is pretty impressive as regards accuracy and locations.
I am sure it is all different now but, growing up, one was exposed to church teachings. One of these was - as I understood it as a child - to 'like' everybody and not hate others.
It is unwise to tell children this because they will dislike quite a lot of their peers: they will also not be able to distinguish between simple dislike and genuine hatred. This will set up a situation of cognitive dissonance which they will struglle to solve.
Thus, I really could not stand a boy called Nigel who was at my school and in the choir. I was really worried about this and hoped God would not take in out on me in some way.
Growing up, children have to gain experience of the different personalities they will encounter and they have to learn to deal with them. Simply to suggest that if child A hates child B then child A is in the wrong can do great harm.
I played for a 09:30 service this morning (I've just had coffee at home). I arrived at 08:56 to get my books ready and because I usually ring before the service.
There were 5 in the choir and only 9 in the congregation plus the vicar and me: total 16. I suppose it is only small(ish) village but I noticed that the average age was at least 65. One wonders where the congregations of the future will come from.
It was a fairy brisk 55 minute service - not drawn out - which I like; 4 hymns but a communion setting was used for the Gloria, Sanctus, Benedictus and Agnus Dei.
I had not realised just how difficult it is to walk on a gravel path until last Wednesday.
Many churches have sinks and taps in them where water can be obtained to make tea or for the flower arrangers to use. I had never seen anything like this before which is at Sharnbrook in Bedfordshire. It may not be their only source of water but it was unusual for it to be inside the church near the north door.
Earlier this month I played at a service where there was evidence that someone I know - who smokes - has played there a great deal (in fact I know he has; this is just confirmation)
Even though my mobile camera is useless at close up shots (or the operator is useless) I think the brown stains on the stop tabs make the point.
The music at the Her Majesty the Queen's funeral was of the finest quality and performed to an exceptionally high standard. I admit to disliking the way the Bach 5-part Fantasia was played with the notes inégales which were discussed on Facebook and probably elsewhere.
This is how the piece is normally played.
I played for the two Special Commemoration services today at different churches in a benefice; I could have done three but I was not available.
The first was attended by about a dozen people and the singing was not very enthusiastic (I was told by my friend who came with me).
The second service had ringing beforehand (half-muffled) so I grabbed a rope: it was very well attended. Various uniform organisations were represented (British legion and the Brownies): banners and flags were presented at the start and the whole affair was dignified. The singing was lusty.
To be honest, had I got into a time machine and travelled back to the first half of the 20th century (say 1950) the atmosphere and type of person there might well have been the same. This was a sort of worship one does not see very often except, perhaps, in cathedrals
I am playing for three services tomorrow. One of those will be my last at a certain church. The other two are special memorial services for Her Majesty.
I agree that a church bench should be repainted. One comment was that “It is inappropriate for mourners to be faced with an emotive symbol when respectful neutrality in such sacred surroundings is a reasonable sign of respect.”
So many things, these days, are done because they are flavour of the month and people like to jump on a bandwagon.
Before I read the story I thought it was in support of the LGBTQ+ community but it seems it was an NHS rainbow which the colours sought to convey.
So, if only because this colour combination can be misconstrued, it should be repainted.
This is a photo of what takes place when one is recording memorial inscriptions. As this image does not actually show any inscriptions it should not be possible to identify where it was taken, not that they would mind. It turns out that the nearest two monuments face east whilst most others face west (and are so old that they are very hard to read.
I number each headstone with a small white plant label so I do not lose my place and this number also appears on the photo that I take. It can be tiring work. I have a kneeler, which is not shown, and a stool to sit on. It keeps me occupied in retirement.
I have been out today recording memorial inscriptions at a church where I am working on the entire churchyard - a huge task to take on single-handed.
Very often, as well as names and dates of death, a headstone will carry a long or short verse, not always from the bible. I have seen hymn verses used. Today I was confused by one I saw but I looked it up when I got home. It read:
Even to Hoary Hairs will I carry you
This is, in fact, a quotation from Isaiah 46:4, although it has hoar rather than hoary.
You live and learn.
I played at a new (to me) church today in a different benefice to normal. I have played at another church in this benefice where the people are very friendly. This, however, was a group service so there were representatives from all the churches.
Not wishing to suggest that nobody spoke to me, I was greeted by a couple of choir members and a couple of the congregation said "Hello" as I waited for coffee after the service.
However, largely I was ignored. Had I been a potential new member of the congregation I was not encouraged returned. Perhaps it was obvious that I was the organist and people concluded that I was just there to do a job. Nevertheless folk did break up into small groups and nobody really made the effort to engage me in conversation. I did try with one chap but he was having none of it.
It baffles me how one can go to church and hear the congregation praying to be made into better people and to uphold the Christian way of life: yet one is just ignored.
Something isn't right.
I am playing for a wedding again today although they have recorded music to go out to.
I am no longer married but it has always struck me - when times were hard for me - that it was a nonsense to oblige young people to utter the words "for better or for worse". How can young people (who think they have life experience but actually do not) make such a vow and stick to it? Many people do stick to it, of course, and find a way to manage; but the church is not being very realistic when it makes people say such words. Yes, it is a good aspiration but people change and relationships deteriorate.
Typically of the church, it dangles the notion that life will unfold in a certain way only to allow people to discover that life can be a bitch.
The marriage vows have changed a little I have noticed ('obey' was under debate even in 1983 when I tied the knot) so I shall listen today to hear what is promised.
We were all floored by the sad news yesterday of the Queen's passing. She was not well and it was not, perhaps, a surprise: that does not mean it was not a shock.
The closest I ever got to the Queen was about 20ft. The occasion was the distribution of Maundy money in the 1970s when ex-cathedral choristers were drafted in to assist recipients who needs pushing in their wheelchairs.
I had a phone call earlier this morning to play for a service so I have had to brush up the organ part to Fauré's "In Paradisum"
Queen Elizabeth has been a stabilizing force for the country in my lifetime. Let's hope Charles carries on the good work.
Organists give their lives to their craft and some live to a ripe old age. Sadly some are taken far too early. That was so with one of my organ teachers who died aged 50. In my youth I had the great privilege of turning pages for him most days at Evensong. He played several pieces which I now play but I have never aspired to his level of excellence.
I came across this video today which reminded me of Andrew. I remember at least one occasion when I turned pages as he played this. R. I. P. dear man.
On the recent ringing meeting I was amused by the way the rope guides had been fixed to the wall. A hole had been made in a commemoration board [actually I'm not sure what the board said] as you can just about see from this dreadful photo (my phone camera is rubbish)
When I started bellringing in the 1970s it was common to be welcomed into a new tower as a visitor. Sadly, I find, this is less often the case.
On Saturday I attended a meeting of a guild branch (not my own branch) not too far away because I had not rung at the tower where they were meeting. The event started late and I actually wondered if anybody would turn up.
There was general chatter about the small size of the branch, illness, apologies for absence and so on. It was a 6 bell tower and there were, I think, about nine people present although 2 more arrived 50 minutes later as I was leaving.
It is always clear who the characters are: some ringers can be 'high-profile'. If they know each other then they relax into pre-established roles and a subconsciously agreed pecking order. New faces are not quickly incorporated into their 'private' clique.
Those present were all 'old' people in the range 55 - 70 (I'm guessing) although I suspect a couple were older than that. It struck me that it was not a readily welcoming group of people. They recognised that I could ring well (because I can) so that wasn't an issue. I did chat to one person I had rung with quite a long time ago whose name I saw in the 'signing in' book, but who I did not recognise by sight.
However, it soon dawned on me that the reason that this group (and the ringing fraternity in general) is struggling to attract new members is that they are all set in their ways despite what they may think. I once had the same experience when I briefly took up croquet.
They will all continue to ring until they are too old to do so and then wonder why no young ringers have come in to fill up the ranks. So sad.
Oddly, I played for a Sunday wedding today. It seems to be the done thing to go to the pub before a wedding if you arrive early. The noise before the service seemed to suggest that guests were well-lubricated but at least they calmed down for the service and listened as the bride's sister sang a solo in the signing of the registers. She was very good too.
Organists acquire a great deal of sheet music during their carreers. [This is changing as more music is issued as PDFs and people use iPads to read scores]
When an organist passes on the task of disposing of his or her music falls to the bereaved. Clearly a lot of money has been invested over time and simply to recycle it (i.e. throw it away) is a difficult pill to swallow. There is a website which will buy old music.
In my association, one member has been handed the music from a past member and - gradually - it is being sold. There must come a time when nobody will want the remainder, I feel.
When I was taught to conduct at university it was made clear to all of us that the beat happened on the downward action by 'hitting' an imaginary line, level with one's breast line!
I have, unfortunately, seen quite a few videos where it is clear that the conductor is a 'puller', as it was called. That is to say they give the beat by pulling away from this imaginary line as if yanking a piece of chewing gum off the pavement.
So long as the choir know if they have a push or a puller it doesn't matter, I suppose, but it is irksome ot watch.
If you want to see this happening, watch some visiting choir videos on YouTube at Canterbury cathedral.
As a rider to this, there as a habit of some choir conductors in the 1980s to direct with their fingers pointed towards their bodies (no baton) in a quasi circular motion. They were known as tit-scratchers.
If a church has an organist, it will fall into one of two kinds of church. 1 - where you can see the organist and 2- where the organist is hidden away, possibly in an organ loft. The latter is very often the case in cathedrals (except when they use a detatched console).
Now the job of an organist is to accompany the singing. I also feel the pre-service music is to add atmosphere (although I have known heard players destroy it). The post-service voluntary is not a concert. One goes to organ recitals to hear the organ alone although good manners dictate that one would listen and not chatter near the console.
Even at a recital one does not see the organist although more and more places are using large screens onto which they project what happens at the console.
I was extremely lucky as a young chap to go to Evensong every day and turn pages for my teacher. He controlled the organ well in the days when playing aids were few and far between (and with my help to pull out some stops!). These days instruments have banks of generals and sequencer buttons. I was always in awe of my teacher's playing and I aspired to be like him. However, there are some players today whose powers are superhuman, both in terms of playing from memory and technique.
Once such man is Nathan Laube. I recommend this video you. I am blogging about it because we ought to be glad that our cathedrals are looking after their organs and having them rebuilt if necessary. This recital is one to watch as well as to listen to. In fact watching gives me as much pleasure and as many goosebumps as listening. How does he do what he does?
