Recording of Gabriel Jackson's Nunc Dimittis and Sunday Eucharist

     It's now 1:00 p.m. in Ely, and I just finished today's homework. This morning, Evensong choir sang the Sunday Eucharist at Ely Cathedral. We sang Howells' "My Eyes for Beauty Pine", and Dove's Mass setting for this service. Mr. Howells has certainly been a mainstay of the music of this trip. The poem for this Anthem is as follows:

My eyes for beauty pine,
My soul for Goddës grace:
No other care nor hope is mine,
To heaven I turn my face.

One splendour thence is shed
From all the stars above:
'Tis named when Goddës name is said,
'Tis Love, 'tis heavenly Love.

And every gentle heart,
That burns with true desire,
Is lit from eyes that mirror part
Of that celestial fire.

     Goodness. This poem digs deep into me. It causes me to remember that all powerful things on earth, all "true" things that burn in our hearts, even those fires we can't express, shine in the eyes of all of God's creation, and all of those people with their passions are mirroring a little part of God's roaring fire. Include in this image artists, scientists, politicians, car salesmen, strangers singing on the street, the anger of your family member when you do something stupid, the love you feel for your friends, and all other manner of passions.
     I've recorded and uploaded a recording of rehearsal from a couple of days ago, in which we royally mess up, and then get right, the Nunc Dimittis set to music by Gabriel Jackson. Enjoy the unreal acoustics of the Lady Chapel. This piece has several things to pay attention to: It features foreign sounding grace notes. These flick up and down throughout each solo section, and strike emphasized syllables. When the tenors transition into singing "Glory Be to the Father...", the piece ascends from Ab major to A natural major. You can hear the transition in mood that this creates when sung. Finally, the composition rewards the patient. There is no climax of music, as much as we want it, until "To be a Light...". Take a listen by clicking the link below. The Text for the Nunc Dimittis is also below.

CLICK HERE

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word.
For mine eyes have seen thy salvation,
Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people;
To be a light to lighten the Gentiles and to be the glory of thy people Israel.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be
World without End, Amen

                     #HYMNS

Praying Monks

     Today, Evensong choir visited Sandringham House: the wintertime home of the royal family, and Queen of England. Turns out, she was there just a couple weeks ago. We wandered around the house, looked at some cool art, and found the graves of some Corgis. There were large fields and lovely gardens to be had for all to enjoy.

     After returning home, we prepared for, and sang, Evensong service in the Lady Chapel at Ely Cathedral. Lady Chapels appeared at many cathedrals as a second worship locale, for those who had a special affinity for the Virgin Mary. This particular Lady Chapel was connected to the nave of Ely via a small walkway, and was a considerably sized chapel. It was built many hundreds of years ago, and was made of grey stone and enormous translucent windows. We had heard rumors that this chapel had special acoustics, but the entire choir was blown away by how powerfully the sound of the choir echoed. We had a crowd for Evensong, and it was a remarkable experience for everyone involved. Especially important were Gabriel Jackson's Magnificat and Nunc Dimitis, and Parry's "My Soul, There is a Country" (yes, the Parry whose father painted the angels in the octagon - see last blog post). 

     I want to point out a recurring theme for this trip that has touched me deeply. When Cathedrals like this were built, they were not intended to be places of worship for the community. They were built for monks and holy people. Monks lived at the cathedrals, and other people were allowed in on holidays, or to visit the markets and festivals that were sometimes held in the nave. There were no church services as we conceive of them, though. The offices of the church were held by monks who would pray and sing and chant every single hour of the day. They would pray for peace and for the return of Christ, and for all other manner of things that came up. 

     Yesterday, when we visited Cambridge, Charity, Molly, Tim and I went to a tiny chapel in the middle of town which dated back about 1,000 years. We stayed for the evening prayer service. There was one priest who prayed the whole thing, and there were about 5 of us in the congregation. 

     Here I have been, in several situations so far, counting the number of people in the seats. This is an activity I participate in... constantly. The merit of our prayers and singing is weighed by how many faces we see smiling back at us. According to the history of these incomprehensibly beautiful and sacred places we keep visiting, that doesn't matter at all. In fact, it would have been very strange indeed if there were people who showed up to the church while the monks were singing. They were there because they were praying for the well-being of their town country, families, governments, for peace, for God to rain down justice on the wicked, for strength for themselves, and thanking him over and over for all the blessings he provides to us that we don't think about. This is the heart of what we do in these cathedrals: we utilize our musical gifts and our deep friendships with each other to lend weight and heart to the prayers we offer each night; the same prayers that these monks prayed hundreds and hundreds of years ago. The walls are full of millions of prayers from millions of people over more lifetimes than I can comprehend. 

A third Evensong and a tour of the church tower

     Yesterday, many of us were given the opportunity to climb up into the 'octagon' tower of Ely Cathedral. This portion of the Nave is famous in the U.K. for its weight and size. If you look at a picture of Ely, it's the second tallest point on the building. Looking from the Nave, it appears to be a small octagonal shape in the ceiling, appearing at the connecting points of the transepts'' vaulting. Here's the view from the floor of the Cathedral:

     You'll notice that the octagon is lined with paintings of angels playing instruments, as if they're up in heaven looking down with you. These angels were painted by the father of Hubert Perry, famous English composer. They appeared, to my eye, to be about three feet high. Above these angels are stained glass windows. We climbed a couple hundred stairs up to the angels, and got the opportunity to 'open' the angels (turns out they act as doors). Here's how big those little tiny angels actually are:

     Yes, that's Charity pointing. I would guess those angels are about twelve feet tall. Now take a look back at that first picture. This cathedral is absolutely enormous. We also went outside and took a look around the city with a bird's eye view. 

     That night, we sang our third Evensong service, and we're getting good at this! There were many more people there this time, including many in the Nave itself. We were video-recorded singing our anthem for the evening: Peter Hallock's "The Lord is My Light". Peter Hallock was organist and choirmaster at St. Mark's for several decades, and it was an honor to represent our city and church with his music. Click HERE to view this video.

First Two Evensongs, and a Visit to Norwich

     Yesterday evening, the choir got together at 3:30 to prepare for and sing our first Evensong service. It went beautifully, with only a few missed cues, and 'Spirits' instead of 'ghosts'. What an incredible privilege it was to sing in Ely Cathedral. Ely lies in the flat farm-country of eastern U.K.. It is called 'Ely' as a shortened version of the word "eely", or "full of eels". The water was drained from the area a few hundred years ago, but the swampy name stuck. Ely Cathedral was formed by St. Etheldreda in the mid 600's. Her image is all over the Cathedral, and she is the head Saint here.
     Today, the choir visited Norwich. We took a tour of Norwich Cathedral, which features the second highest spire in the United Kingdom, at over 300 ft. high.

Also in Norwich, a few of us went to visit the long-time residence of Saint Julian (Julie-Anne). Saint Julian famously had a vision of Christ at a time of close-to-death illness. After writing about her vision, she became a cloister at the church. She lived in a room next to the small church, and would look through one window into the small sanctuary, and out the other onto the adjacent alley. Her writings emphasize the mothering nature of our God, and how love is the ultimate message from Christ. All things revolve around Love. She was famously slow to judge, and garnered a reputation for listening to all of those who wanted to discuss life and its woes and glories, included prostitutes, infidelitous priests, vagabonds, and whosoever needed the love of Christ.

This evening, we sang Evensong again at Ely Cathedral. We say "The Key", arr. by Anthony Piccolo. The text to this poem rang especially sharply in our hearts after visiting the home of St. Julian today.

Before I forget what happened on days 1 1/2

     In this blog, my ambition is to discuss what I personally learn about worship music in church, and the church's place in the world, in the context of St. Mark's Evensong choir's tour of England in July 2018. I'll update with stories and some pictures, and recount for those of you who are interested in following.
     This entry, however, will be less editorial, and more fact-based.

     Yesterday morning, all gathered at St. Mark's Cathedral in Seattle, wearing our matching dubiously-sized enormous purple polos. We mourned the loss of our figure, as it fell victim to American clothes sizing. A tour bus drove us to the airport, where we boarded a Boeing 787 Dreamliner, complete with a cocktail lounge, screens on every seat, and mood lighting. The flight was relatively uneventful. There was a general trend present of watching movies that were supposed to delight, only to be woefully disappointed when they turned out to be stinkers.
     This morning, at roughly midnight Seattle time, we touched down at London's Heathrow Airport. We waited in line for customs for about an hour, high-fiving each other in a range of ways as the queue crossed back on itself ten times. We boarded another bus, and went to St. Albans.
     St. Albans is a quaint town, just a few Kilometers NE of downtown London. Immediately charmed were we all by the dizzyingly adorable scale and nature of every aspect of the town. We attended Mattins service at the Cathedral of St. Albans, which professes to be the longest continuously operating center of worship in the United Kingdom. Woah! The current background image for this blog is a shot of this cathedral.
     After this quick stop, we boarded up in out bus again to head toward Ely, which is where I now write, lofted in a hotel room overlooking the main drag. As we drove into Ely, we were greeted by a local music festival with live music, and cathedral visitors walking around.

All's well so far, and it's fun to be in a constant flood of brand new images and concepts for which my mind have little context to compartmentalize.