December
30th, the last day of my late husband's life on earth, already years ago. I try
not to think of it on that day, but can't help it. Not the day that he actually
died which was December 31st, but his last full day on earth. There
was this small Christmas tree with its pale blue and gold baubles, its happy
lights, its green boughs. There were Christmas cards everywhere, wishing him
and me all the best for the coming year. There was his hospital bed in our
living room, there were candles and Christmas decorations, the wine glasses and
the table laid for one of his favourite foods, delicious Dover sole, which he
could not eat, only look at and savour with his eyes. Outside there was the
occasional bang of early fireworks. In the house it was very quiet, peaceful
even. I slept on the couch that night, for hours, next to the Christmas tree, till
I thought it would be safe to go up to my bedroom. I checked on my husband several
times. I did not see Death entering our door. He came as a thief in the night,
stealthily. When I came down early the next morning, Death was sitting on the
bed, giving my husband just a minute to take leave of me, although he was no
longer able to speak nor move.
The
Christmas tree was there till Epiphany, the arrival of the three Kings, my
husband's funeral and the thanksgiving service for his life. When I came back,
my neighbours had dismantled the tree, and tidied the room. Is that why since
then I just can't get myself to buy a tree and decorate it? I have always loved
doing that, while listening to Christmas music, drinking a glass of mulled
wine, smelling the fresh batch of cookies, the fruity Christmas cake, all the
preparations for that long awaited feast, Christmas. I prefer going away now,
to friends where I am welcome. This year I have stayed at home, but there is no
Christmas tree in my house. There is a crib, a beautiful one which does not
remind me of that time as it was given to me years later. It is a crib which I
love and cherish and the first – and sometimes only – Christmas decoration
which I will always put in a place of honour. It will stay there till Epiphany.
It is still
Christmas, in spite of what our preacher – a protestant woman by origin –
claimed, that Christmas had come and gone and was over till next year. Clearly
she had never been to Mexico where Christmas and the Christmas festivities last
till January 6th, when the three wise men arrived to give honour to
the new-born king. Nor had she paid attention to the poem about the 12 days of Christmas and all the gifts bestowed upon an innocent girl by her "true love", including maids a milking and pipers piping apart from a partridge in a pear tree. And also in Great Britain and in the catholic churches in
general, Christmas doesn't stop at Boxing Day. So we sang carols in church today, the
crib is still in its place and there still is that feeling of joy and
expectancy. What we expect, I do not really know. Is it the hope that the world
may at last change and become a better place? That this child will bring the world salvation, peace and be a source of gladness? Are we expecting something great
to happen? Or have all the lights, has all the music, lifted our spirits in these
dark times, when daylight seems to fade almost as soon as it has appeared? For
me this time is a magical time. As a child I loved it. It was about security
and happiness, about family and of course about Christ. Not about presents.
Present giving at Christmas is not a Dutch tradition. We might be given a book,
even two books at times, one by the Sunday school and one by our parents.
Reading was stimulated all through our childhood.
The saddest
thing is to wake up alone on Christmas morning, something many people have to
face. There are different ways of coping with this. Being alone and moreover childless
means no family gatherings, no happy bustle around the big family table, a
repetitive thing, for it also means no grandchildren and no way of experiencing
the joys of one's own childhood again through one's offspring, through the eyes
of happy children.
After the
many carol services, the joyful Christmas concerts, the frequent rehearsals and
two magical Christmas Eve services, at last the singing is over, the sheet music
can be filed away till next year, and there is time to visit friends and family, to see
exhibitions and explore a town or city. Or to go for a walk, weather
permitting. As in England and many parts of Europe, the very wet and windy weather
hasn't been inviting to venture out into muddy woods and fields.
Late afternoon sun on the tower of the Zuiderkerk, built as a protestant church in the 17th century by Hendrick de Keyser but no longer in use as a church.
Yesterday I
spent a day in Amsterdam with a friend from University days, who now lives
in Canada. Amsterdam was flooded with thousands of people, tourists,
schoolchildren who are having their holidays, concert go-ers and museum
visitors. We went to see an exhibition in the Hermitage, a former old people's home
situated in a beauty spot on the river Amstel, and now a museum. The exhibits there
are usually on loan from the Hermitage in St. Petersburg.
This time there was an exhibition of paintings by the Impressionists. It
wasn't as exciting as we had hoped, and the museum was far too crowded, but the building
itself is well worth a visit. Especially the former church inside the building,
which is now used for special occasions as it is a very spacious and long hall.
I love the small organ there, but did not bring a camera and had to make do
with my cell phone.
The organ in the "Hermitage", the former old people's home
To our surprise the
afternoon was beautiful and sunny, so we went for our lunch to a cafe-cum-restaurant
with a view of the river Amstel and the Munt tower. We could enjoy this view from our table next to the window for far
longer than anticipated, as we had to wait over 30 minutes for our sandwiches
due to a faulty handheld computer. I must admit we were given a drink on the
house to make up for the long wait. But it is just annoying when others came in
a lot later than we did and then left after having enjoyed their lunch while we
were still eagerly and hungrily waiting for our modest sandwiches.
On our walk
through the oldest part of Amsterdam with its many canals – and unfortunately
in certain parts spoilt as it also houses the red light district – we came
upon an old, hidden church, Ons' Lieve Heer op
Solder, a Roman catholic church built by a rich merchant in the attic of
his house during a time that Roman Catholicism was forbidden in the Netherlands.
People met in secret and the front of the house did not reveal what was inside.
There was even a separate apartment for a live-in priest. Although once a month
mass is celebrated there, it is now a museum. I had passed it often, but this
time we went in. It is a very interesting place, and the church with its three galleries
has been lovingly restored. Because of Christmas it was beautifully decorated
with pine garlands and red ribbons, but no flash pictures allowed. And because
of the fading light outside, it was pretty dark, which made it even more
mysterious. In fact this visit turned out to be the highlight of our day out,
an unexpected treasure.
Looking down from one of the galleries into the main part of the church
On our way to the railway station we passed the St. Nicholas, - the big church opposite the station, dedicated to St. Nicholas, patron saint of Amsterdam - hoping to attend Evensong, a service which is regularly celebrated on Saturday afternoons at 5 o' clock. It is an hour of contemplation, peace and beauty after a hectic day in the busy city. Alas, not on this Saturday, as the two choirs responsible for the Evensongs, enjoyed a well-deserved holiday after all the music they had sung during Advent and at Christmas.
I am
reading John Steinbeck's novel, or rather travelogue, Travels with Charley. Steinbeck decided to take a trip through the
USA. He rigged out a truck with all possible necessities, food, clothing,
writing materials, camping gear, a stove, just about everything one can
imagine. He took his dog Charlie with him for company. Calling his truck Rocinante, the name of Don Quixote's horse, was an appropriate gesture. I am only half way through the book, but it
seems to me that his book is not so much about the USA, as well as about himself,
his feelings and emotions, his uncertainties, loneliness, homesickness and at
times his fear. At the same time I am reading another book, by a Dutch
historian, Geert Mak. It is called Reizen zonder John (Travels without John). Geert Mak decided to take the same trip 50 years after
Steinbeck did his. Mak wanted to know how America had changed, and what is left
of the American dream. The interesting thing for me is that I also went on a
similar trip in autumn, although not covering as many states as the two writers
did. Nevertheless my observations are not much different from Mak's. It struck
me that the heart of many small towns, especially in the mid-west, are dead.
The Main Streets are empty, shop windows boarded up, the once proud and
imposing bank buildings abandoned, the centres lifeless.
Former Bank building
If I compare what I
saw now with what I saw some 20 years ago, I see a noticeable difference. Then
any town would have a motel, now those typical motels are either for sale, boarded
up or just left behind, sagging, the paint peeling, the veranda's broken. The
many well-known chains of motels and hotels have taken over and are usually
found on the outskirts of the towns, next to Walmart, eating places, and shops.
Even the banks have moved out to those business centres.
Some towns
are still thriving, but that is not generally the case. If a town is still
lively, it is sometimes because artists have started living there and there is
a bohemian atmosphere. Or a small town near a University campus may be kept
alive by the students and their needs. But the hearts of many small towns have
been cut out, unfortunately.
In the
country it is sometimes even worse. There are churches everywhere, but not
always enough people living near or around those churches to keep them open.
The emptiness seems worse as most houses are built of wood, and wood can be
used for fuel or many other purposes. So dwellings disappear, and often I could
not even trace where a town had originally been located. There were just isolated
churches. I saw many sagging barns and
abandoned farms and farmland given back to the wilderness and to nature.
Time seems
to go so quickly. I still have not sorted through all the pictures and the diary
I kept on my trip through Canada and the USA. It feels as if the memories are
whirling around and haven't settled yet, like snowflakes in one of those glass
balls with a scene in it. When you shake one, snow starts falling and it takes
some time for it to stop again.
Meanwhile
Christmas has caught me by surprise. Yesterday was the first Sunday of Advent. It
is weird to begin this Christmas-tide, the time leading up to the birth of
Christ, when St. Nicholas is still visiting the Low Countries and the atmosphere
is so different. One advantage of St. Nicholas, celebrated on December 5th,
is that traditionally most people give their family and friends presents on
that day. Which means that at Christmas we can concentrate on what Christmas is really about,
at least if we are believers, and in glad expectation await the mystery of this
birth.
For
choristers this is a happy but busy time. I sing with two Anglican choirs
during this period and so it means a lot of rehearsals and driving between The
Hague and Haarlem. For me the Advent Carol service is the most wonderful
service of all with the Matin Responsory, the Advent Wreath prayer and the
Vesper Responsory, partly chanted.
Advent Mattins Responsory (after Palestrina), sung by the Choir of St. Paul's Cathedral. London
We begin in
a dark church, the choir standing at the back and holding candles. The most
frightening part is processing in, blinded by the small flame of the candle,
holding it in one hand and the music folder in the other, having to turn
pages, trying not to trip or set the hair of the singer in front of me on fire!
I suppose the Fire and Safety department would be greatly upset by what we do. One
by one the candles held by the people in the congregation are lit. It is
magical, but nevertheless it is a relief when we can put them out, as space is
rather limited so we are very close together next to the small pipe organ. I
have added a link to the Advent Carol Service held in Trinity Chapel. Here the
chapel is lit by candles only during the entire service. It is a wonderfully moving service which you may enjoy listening to.
Advent Carol Service 1012 Trinity College Chapel November 25th 2012
This year
the service was one we will never forget. While we were singing a carol, there
was an awful noise as if the organ case came thundering down. What happened was
that one of our singers had fainted and fallen from the podium, in between the
wall and the back of the organ. Although he must have hit a table and other objects,
the unfortunate bass hadn't broken any bones. After he regained consciousness
and had been given a glass of water, he was able to stay in the choir for the
rest of the carol service - this time sitting down securely between two other
singers who guarded him. It did ruin our concentration for a short time only,
and in part the mystery and beauty of this service .
This is the
liturgy of yesterday's service:
Advent Carol
Service
Choir:
Matin responsory (Palestrina)& Come thou redeemer of the Earth
Choir:
during procession: Advent Wreath prayer for Advent Sunday
Hymn: O
come, O come, Emmanuel – arr.Rutter
Bidding
Prayer
Choir:
Advent prose – arr. S.Cleobury
Lesson
1: The prophet proclaims the good news to a people in exile
Choir:
People look east – arr.B.Ferguson
Lesson
2: The Lord promises to send his people a righteous King
Hymn: NEH
15 “The Lord will come and not be slow”
Lesson
3: The Lord promises that the King will come to Israel in peace
Choir: How
beautiful upon the mountains – J.Stainer
Hymn: NEH 5
“Hark, a herald voice is calling"
Lesson
4: The prophet foretells the advent of the desire of all the nations.
Choir:
Never weather beaten sail – R.Shephard
Lesson
5: The prophet foretells the glory of the kingdom of God.
Hymn: NEH
14 (tune 341) “The Advent of our God”
Choir: The
angel Gabriel – arr.M.Archer
Lesson
6: The angel Gabriel salutes the blessed virgin Mary
Choir: Ecce
concipies – J.Handl.
Hymn: NEH
10 “Long ago, prophets knew”
Lesson
7: Jesus proclaims the coming of the kingdom
of God
Hymn: NEH 9
“Lo he comes with clouds descending”.
Choir:
Veiled in darkness - Rudolph
Choir:
Vesper Responsory – Ph.Ledger
Collect
and Blessing
Hymn: NEH
30 O come all ye faithful , verses 1, 2, 6.
I was very happy to discover this website, Saturday Chorale, which has links to a lot of well-sung Anglican church music.
