The Cathedral Choir were outstanding last night, with the setting for the mass being the Messe Solennelle by Vierne. The Kyrie was particularly amazing. A sonic blast of glorious musical contrasts. Stanford’s anthem, Coelos Ascendit Hodie was also a delight, with the composers almost trademark descending chromatic scales working their way into the music (listen to his Te Deum for more…). Topped off with a joyous Saint Saens Toccata and Fugue on the Cathedral organ.  Anyone who has a thang for choral and church music needs to checkout the Cathedral Choir, directed by Friki Walker. Hard working, dedicated,and with a passion for music so evident in everything they sing. Kelvin has a blog post going at the moment about the things which get folks going to particular churches. For me, it has been the music that originally brought me to St Mary’s and that music has been a major factor in keeping me there. Of course, the inclusiveness,eclectic make up of the congregation as well as clergy not afraid to speak out on current issues of fairness and social justice. Have a listen to the Easter Sunday sermon if you want a great example of this message which is absolutely current and relevant to the world in which we are living right now.

But even if you are not too hung up on the religion, the music alone is worth the trip along to Glasgow’s west end. And with Pentecost, Trinity,and Corpus Christi coming along in quick succession over the next three weeks, there will be plenty of amazing choral excellence to enjoy.

And whilst you’re there, you’ll be captivated by the art , the history of the building, and maybe, hopefully too, by the message of hope you’ll encounter.

The service begins at 7pm and promises to be a beautiful occasion.

It’s a funny place, Wakefield.  Has the feel of a run-down old northern industrial town – which it is – but has little gems of culture and community, which are well worth a look if you can see past the ugly 1960s roads, underpasses and buildings.

Mind you, I need to be careful what I say in public. One former resident posted a piece on The Guardian’s website only last week and has had a vitriolic reaction from the town, especially in the local paper this week.  The people of Wakefield are proud of their town, it seems (I only wish that pride could convert itself into a little rubbish-clearance on the banks of the River Calder – it rather detracts from the beauty of their 14th century chapel built on the old bridge over the river…).

But it’s tea, coffee and cake we’re after; and we’re more interested this year in the stories behind the cathedrals wherever we go rather than the plans for urban development, so we can do a rugby-style shimmy around this debate and focus on those bits of Wakefield that whet FancyaCuppa’s appetite…

What struck us first of all is that Wakefield is full of independent coffee shops and tea rooms. Which rather surprised us since a basic google search showed us hardly any of these.  A lesson to us that you need to be in a town to know where to get a good cuppa; and perhaps a lesson to our favourite venues that they may need to improve their web presence if they are to attract more out-of-town visitors!

We chose Mocca Moocho mainly for its great views of the Cathedral, but also because it advertised itself as a genuinely local independent coffee shop.  A very friendly welcome followed, with a special mention for the cakes, which were all baked in-house and almost impossible to choose between.

This was not the best day to visit the Cathedral, which has just begun a year’s worth of digging up and renovation.  It means that half the church is not accessible and the sound of pneumatic drills is only interrupted by the daily service!  Let’s hope they find something of value when the builders let the archaeologists in for a look around…

We stuck our head around the door of the cathedral coffee shop, which looked friendly enough but didn’t tempt us in, when we knew we would be heading to a little gem of a place for some afternoon tea. The Conservatory Tea Rooms feel like you’re stepping back to a world of “Brief Encounter” and the 1930s, although the place has actually only been there since the 1980s! Great little cream tea, which is apparently Wakefield’s answer to ‘Betty’s', only about half the price.

No visit to Wakefield would be complete without a look at the Chantry Chapel, which was built on the bridge over the Calder in the 1300s – it’s one of only three surviving chapels built on bridges in England. It’s normally locked apparently, but here we did strike lucky as it was about to host the World Women’s Day of Prayer and for once the doors were open to the public. What a little gem, and right across the road from the brand new Hepworth modern art museum.

You see, Wakefield is doing its best to marry the old and the new, though it struggles with being criss-crossed by motorways and dual carriageways (which reminds me: take the free bus down to the Hepworth and Chantry rather than negotiating the underpasses and traffic, as we did…).

The old town by the Cathedral is beautiful and full of history: Drury Lane theatres are not only in London; the Bull Ring not only in Birmingham.  So there is more to Wakefield than rhubarb – and actually the infamous rhubarb festival is only six years old. But if you do decide as a town to brand yourself on rhubarb, surely the coffee shops and tea rooms should be getting in on the act: why didn’t I see any rhubarb tart, rhubarb crumble or even rhubarb cake to have with my cuppa?

A lesson for 2013 perhaps?

Sadly we couldn’t find the comment piece in the Wakefield Express online so all we can do is add a link to the organisation that wrote that piece www.rhubarbbomb.com and of course to the comment piece that so enraged some parts of the Wakefield community…

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/feb/23/rhubarb-fools-force-wakefield

I read this as Counter Tenor! [Daily Telegraph headline] The British counter-terror programme that ‘fails to stop extremists’

I imagine my great countertenor [CT] hero James Bowman bewailing this with soul-searching phrases from Vivaldi [reference to the psalm setting Nisi Dominus]

Actually, the CT I saw in Death in Venice [Canadian Opera] recently changed my mind. Beautiful man, beautiful singing

So you were not keen on the CT concept before?

Possibly in the same way I used to not like trannies. Trying to be more of a woman than me. Now I like both

I sang CT for 2 years in cathedral choir in my twenties. For me, it was about developing hidden register of natural instrument

I’ve always wondered how men come across that register. Does one wake up one day and decide to give it a go? Choral tradition?

And, to borrow from Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City, that got me thinking. My first thought is to acknowledge the trauma of the breaking voice. I was a good treble, singing in a London parish church choir with a strong musical tradition and also the Westminster Abbey Special Choir. In those circumstances, you know it is inevitable that your voice will break and you know why, but nevertheless it is a loss that in some way has to be mourned and got through if you are a serious boy singer.

I moved from the front row to the back row and started singing tenor. Unlike in historic Vatican times, there was no suggestion of castration and continuing to sing in an upper register seemingly otherwise reserved for the female of the species. I was aware of the countertenor tradition, where men sing falsetto, for want of a better term, but my limited exposure to not the finest examples of it persuaded me that it was not a good idea.

That changed when I went to a Prom at the turn of the 1970s and heard James Bowman performing with, I think, Martyn Hill and David Munrow as “early music” enjoyed what can be appropriately termed its renaissance. There was a purity about the Bowman voice that was not feminine and was unsullied by the fruity or hooty tone that, to my ears, makes some countertenors sound very mezzo-soprano but in a bad way that evokes unfortunate visions of pantomime ugly sisters.

Some years later, as a postgraduate student in my early twenties, I inquired about joining the local cathedral choir and was asked by the choirmaster if I would be interested in singing countertenor.  He gave me an audition and in his languid way said that I made some interesting noises. There was something of a crisis in that part of the choir as the ageing gents singing the part were sounding a little owl-like.

I lasted a couple of years before choosing to move on. There were many challenges: discovering and developing a voice that blended well with the rest of the choir; and, as an average sight reader, working through a vast repertoire that changed weekly on the basis of about two hours’ rehearsal for almost two hours’ performance. My main voice production issue was at the bottom of the register (around the F below middle C) where I struggled to produce a tone that compared with the top end (I could produce the top F two octaves higher fairly well). On the negative side, dark tales circulated of nodules developing on vocal cords after years of singing in this “unnatural way”.

I became very aware of the long tradition of countertenor singing, not least in England, and felt proud to be part of it: Henry Purcell was one name that loomed large, not least with Rejoice in the Lord Alway, and on one occasion I did manage to sing the Orlando Gibbons verse anthem This is the Record of John. I have not sung for many years but it was good while it lasted.

I do not think that singing countertenor is de facto effeminate or gay, although it can be perceived or misunderstood that way: hence the gibes about Alfred Deller, who did most to resurrect countertenor singing in the mid-20th century in England, in the Canterbury and St Paul’s cathedral choirs, as being a bearded lady. Deller is reported to have been asked by an enthusiastic Frenchwoman after a concert: “You are eunuch, no?” He replied: “I think you mean unique, madame.”

I have heard Bowman sing in the past couple of years and, even in his sixties, still find his voice to be extraordinarily moving and musical.

There is also a whole area to explore in pop and rock of the high-register male. Two examples that come to mind in England are Jimmy Somerville and Jon Anderson; and not least there is Sylvester on the US disco scene. There are many more. I’ll finish for now by wondering if the predominantly church countertenor tradition is one of the influences on these other genres.

PS Credit where it’s due: Rebecca Caine’s website is http://www.rebeccacaine.com/

And yet somehow: “I was glad! Glad when they said unto me….”

Immortals!

Perhaps it may be accounted to my childhood experiences as chorister that I believe God resides in soundwaves in St. Paul’s cathedral .And perhaps it may be accounted to my upbringing, full of serious northerners but often lacking in specific strictness toward my oeuvrage, that being upbraided by a senior taskmaster who knows more can somehow feel so cleansing. Finally! someone willing to take me to task and call out my many weaknesses. When paired with the unequivocal praise from colleagues one also respects, this is where progress is made.