The value of art

Instead of a walk in the countryside this Wednesday, four of us met in Gloucester, to visit the Cathedral exhibition, Crucible 2. Some of us spent more time on it than others, but there's never a shortage of things to do in Gloucester, especially on a sunny day.

100 exhibits are a lot to take in. I didn't look at them all, but one or two stood out: Kenneth Armitage's giant hand on the lawn North of the chancel; the Vulcan maquette by Eduardo Paolozzi in the crypt; William Pye's water sculpture in the South transept, to name just a few. None of these has any religious significance, so what, you may wonder, were they doing in a Cathedral exhibition?

Actually, I'm quite comfortable with the idea that our great religious buildings should be used for the widest possible range of activities. What's more vexing is the way our perception of art differs according to the monetary value placed upon it. Crucible 2 is not a selling show, but we are all aware of the astronomical prices for which contemporary works of art are sold. Indeed, security is obviously a major concern for the organizers of this exhibition, though the hordes of people going round - no wonder, when entry was free - were very far from being frisked.

My photograph juxtaposes one of the well-secured exhibits in Crucible 2 (Kate Parsons' "East West - matter of interpretation") with - in the foreground - a cheerful framed colour photograph of May Hill, left by the local Free Art Friday group for anyone to take home with them. Does this subversive placement make it a Disobedient Object, as currently on show in the V&A?

Forte and piano

The high spots of last night's choral concert came in the first half, given a cappella by the Merton College Choir under Ben Nicholas (late of this parish). A taste each of Tallis, Victoria, Palestrina and Robert Parsons, followed by four Marian antiphons by four women composers. Of these, Kerry Andrew's Salve Regina stood out, though - as with Giles Swayne's Missa Tiburtina - I disliked the musical scrabble of "in hac lacrimarum valle".

80-odd voices in Gloucester Cathedral make a big sound, which is not always needed, in my opinion, for as subtle and mysterious a work as Duruflé's Requiem. Nevertheless, both chorus (three choirs combined) and soloists were magnificent. My photograph shows Ben Nicholas applauding organist Carleton Etherington, cellist Guy Johnston, mezzo Esther Brazil and baritone Nicholas Morton.

Not a good evening for Brazil though. I caught up later with the first half - it was enough - of their 7-1 defeat in the World Cup semi-final at the hands of the ruthless Germans: the crowd of 67,000 (mainly) stunned to silence.

Fracking in the Cotswolds

This was the title of a presentation given by Dr. Jonathan Whittaker today to the Gloucestershire Churches Environmental Justice Network. A good number of us crowded into the so-called Jerusalem Room over College Green from Gloucester Cathedral to hear it. "I'm a dentist," Jonathan began, "so I know a little about drilling..." He was modest: fracking is clearly a subject he's studied carefully, and puts well into context.

Explaining why the Government is so keen to promote it, he uses the analogy of tobacco. The tax revenues from both shale gas exploration and cigarette sales are a pot of gold too tempting for Chancellors to resist - but the cost of encouraging fracking may outweigh its income stream in the long term, just as the cost of treating lung cancer patients puts the tax from tobacco sales into perspective.

Fracking is, Jonathan concludes, less likely a bridge to the future - more a gangplank. What if - instead - as much were spent on developing (for instance) the Anaconda wave energy converter, pumped hydro energy storage and peak demand control as is scheduled for HS2?

Jerusalem was already on my mind from last night, as we watched Henry IV Part 2, relayed from Stratford-upon-Avon. The king's death in the Jerusalem Chamber takes place off stage, but on stage there's plenty of fine business in Greg Doran's excellent production, in which Oliver Ford Davies as Shallow if anything outperforms Antony Sher as Falstaff. What a play!

The Cathedral's French evening

Charles Russell were sponsoring the City of London Sinfonia's concert in Gloucester Cathedral last evening: we were invited to go along to represent them. So, we had seats on pole position, and even a free interval drink - though we had to scrummage for that.

The programme was all French. Poulenc's Organ Concerto and Gloria were both new to me: I preferred the latter, particularly in light of Elizabeth Watts' contribution. She also shone in the Fauré Requiem - and the combined choirs (nearly 150 strong) sounded terrific.

We emerged into the warm gloaming, with a crescent moon over College Green.

At Laud's

The Gloucestershire Churches Environmental Justice Network met today in the auspicious surroundings of Church House, Gloucester's Laud Room. The full-length portrait of William Laud - for many years Dean of Gloucester before becoming Archbishop of Canterbury - dominated the proceedings. I guess he might have lifted an eyebrow at the ecumenical nature of our discussion.

One of our number recounted a visit to her father's office, just off the Laud Room, when she was a lot younger: it was during the Three Choirs Festival, and there was a party in full flow. Dashing up the stairs, she ran into a large elderly man, nearly knocking him over: it was Ralph Vaughan Williams.

Three guests joined us: the Gloucester Diocese Churches Officer ("Solar panels can be eco-bling..."), a Vision 21 volunteer ("The question for me is how can I reduce my carbon footprint?") and a permaculturalist ("Nothing can be done without an internal change...").

A stimulating hour or so.

"Arise Sir Martin"

Edmund gave me the happy news at breakfast that our good friend Martin Smith had been awarded a long-overdue knighthood in the New Year Honours!

He it was with whom we walked and lunched yesterday in Miserden, but not a word did he then breathe of the news of his elevation: great self-control, I call that.

In my congratulatory email I suggested he and Bradley Wiggins should ride down The Mall together on a tandem, to line up for their dubbing: my photograph of Martin was taken in the porch of Gloucester Cathedral during his epic Land's End to John O'Groats bike ride in 2008. (I accompanied him for a short distance.)

That trip raised a satisfying amount for charitable purposes, but it doesn't begin to compare with Martin's other generosity over a long period: causes orchestral, operatic, scientific, environmental, educational... all have benefited enormously from Smith largesse. Never has an honour been better deserved!

Hissing "the Mysteries"

No, I didn't really hiss them - the Gloucester Mystery Plays, that is; though I'm afraid we left Gloucester Cathedral this evening at the interval. I guess we are spoilt by so much fine professional theatre, available at the drop of the hat in our locality. I certainly felt a bit guilty, not sitting it out; but the Cathedral was freezing, the acoustics as always terrible, the lights dazzling, and the performances and production mostly, well, amateurish. Should one bring a quite different set of standards along when the subject matter is our Christian bible? Hmmm, perhaps - something of an Advent penance then? Oh dear!

My photograph shows the stage, which straddles the nave (audience members either side). It would have been more fun if it had been a promenade performance, like the stunning one we went to there in July. That would have allowed for more audience involvement too, which might have lessened the embarrassment.

There was some quite edgy music, not entirely fitting. The best bits were the short bursts from Gloucester's great organ. "God" was played by a number of different actors (all rather better than the rest of the large cast): each was resplendent in one of the Cathedral's fine copes, thus confirming the suspicions of those laymen who believe their clergy to be omnipotent.

The title of this post? Apocryphally, Dr. Spooner, late of New College, Oxford is said to have addressed an undergraduate thus: "Sir, you have tasted two whole worms; you have hissed all my mystery lectures and been caught fighting a liar in the quad; you will leave by the next town drain."

Open West prizewinners

The Gardens Gallery hosts works by the three prizewinners at Open West's March 2012 exhibition this week: tonight there were free drinks for the nobs, but thankfully no speeches. It was a very black and white affair, dominated by the work of two Japanese artists: Koji Shiraya's porcelain spheres must have looked very different in the Gloucester Cathedral Crypt (I couldn't get down there on the day I visited).

On the other hand, the charming but alarming all-black assemblage of model dodos etc. created by Haruka Miyamoto stood out against the white Gallery walls - in contrast to their rather hideaway positioning in the Cathedral's alcoves: extinction portrayed through means of materials given a second life, a parable to give hope to the threatened human species. Brilliant work! And a great bit of sponsorship by Dale Vince's Ecotricity.

"How like an angel"

These celebrated words of Hamlet about man's nature go with either the preceding phrase - "In action..." - or that following - "...in apprehension" - according to whether you prefer the First Folio or the Second Quarto. At one point tonight, in Gloucester Cathedral, they fitted the latter to perfection.

We were at a performance by the Australian acrobatic ensemble Circa alongside I Fagiolini, the specialist vocal ensemble which emerged a quarter of a century or so ago out of Oxford. "How like an angel", a production shared by Norfolk & Norwich Festival between Norwich and three other English cathedrals, attempts (not always very successfully, IMHO) to fit music of the 12th, 16th/17th and 20th/21st Centuries with mind-blowing acrobatics, principally on stages at either end of the nave. However, at the mid-point of the hour-long performance, one of the five acrobats stands "apprehensively" in the spotlit clerestory before allowing himself to tumble freely down to the floor: there thankfully his fall is broken by some sort of bed that's been wheeled onto precisely the right spot. Never have I heard such a sharp collective intake of breath!

"Colour and clay"

This is the title of the current exhibition at our Parabola Arts Centre: I popped in this afternoon. My photograph shows Plum Naismith's mixed media work, "The Day Fell into Summer" hanging above a set of porcelain clay vessels by Claire Watson. Another potter (not exhibiting) I bumped into there told me, just a hint of bitterness in her voice, that the criterion for entry into the show was that work should not be functional.

I'm bound to say that none of a vary varied set of pieces moved me much. Rather more positive was my reaction to this year's open west show - we were in Gloucester for it yesterday (but I left my memory card in my computer, so my camera wasn't much use). At least some of that, mainly three-dimensional, work is challenging, the artists and curators having combined to make something of the awesome surroundings of the Cathedral.

Discovering Gloucester

Though we live so near, I paid two visits yesterday to parts of Gloucester that were unknown to me. In the evening, David Behar Perahia presided over a performance as artist in residence in the Cathedral, leading a very informal procession up into the spacious tribune gallery, from which I discovered there is a spectacular view of the Choir and - in daylight - the East Window. Earlier, our serried ranks had dribbled through the Cloisters, where actor/musicians had sat in each corner before blocks of stone, which they attacked periodically (and rhythmically) to give a vivid impression of what it must have felt like to have been there when the building was being erected.

The artist's starting point was "awe and wonder about the simple idea that this cathedral was built out of human measures." And admirably did he and his young cast, by this unusual and imaginative performance, convey the same sense to me - as I guess to many of the large number present, for most of whom visiting the Cathedral would be a very occasional experience.

In the morning and afternoon, I had attended the conference organised by The John Ray Initiative entitled "Energising the future" at Redcliffe College. Though it is a short distance from the City Centre, its grounds are extensive, the rear garden being dominated by this huge plane tree, ringed at present by croci. Though the four speakers contradicted one another frequently, it was all very gentlemanly. But having been duly stimulated, I was glad by teatime to be able to escape from what is essentially a talking shop.

The Gloucestershire Way - again

This afternoon Caroline dropped me off at Birdwood, on her way to Ross-on-Wye, and I walked - aided by my new Leki - a further seven or so miles of the Gloucestershire Way, to Gloucester. Perfect weather for it! Warm, still, and bone dry underfoot - it's a section which could get extremely boggy, I imagine.

There was nobody else about, either on the path or on the River Severn, but I saw quite a bit of birdlife: a heron and a black swan flew off separately as I walked along the river past Minsterworth, and there were many more swans and lots of duck on the reservoir near Linton Farm. Had I been foraging, there were potatoes left lying around after their harvest; pears and apples - orchards abound - and of course it's been a brilliant year for blackberries.

The drawbacks about this section of the Way are the number of stiles and gates, and the traffic - both road and rail. And this photograph shows how it is impossible to see Gloucester Cathedral (from the West) without peering through a forest of pylons and their cables.

Transition Cathedral

Gloucester Cathedral hosts a Future Energy exhibition this week. I've been stewarding there today, on behalf of Christian Ecology Link, which shared a stall with Eco-Congregation. There is an obvious synergy between draughty church buildings and efficient use of energy, but all the same there were not many who paused to inspect the stalls lining the Cathedral's North and South Aisles. Perhaps there will be more interest later in the week and at the weekend. I hope so, as a lot of work has gone into organising the displays.

Well done to the Cathedral for making it possible! Roy Strong would no doubt approve. Though possibly not of the other show on in the Cathedral at present: one exhibit is a life-size wedding dress made entirely of chicken skins.

Talk of transition pervades at present. My area of Cheltenham has its own version, Cheltenham Connect, which plans a big launch on 27th June. People interested meet at the Exmouth Arms in the Bath Road on Wednesday evenings between 8 and 9. There was a useful quorum for last night's session. I heard about it only yesterday afternoon, at a well-attended meeting to consider a possible Transition University (of Gloucestershire). Professor Shirley Ali Khan referred to the Transition movement, started by Rob Hopkins, as "allegedly the fastest-growing citizen movement in the UK." How do we get off our oil-addicted treadmill? How do we best use our stock of human energy and creativity to accommodate climate change? What kind of learning programme will lead to changes in behaviour?

Sight but sore ears

glouc
This morning, with the mist clearing, I went with Caroline (and Rosie) up to Crickley Hill. Having parked the car, we walked South: this photograph was taken at the Park's noisiest extremity, with traffic on the A417(T) roaring away below us; and yet it is the most peaceful of scenes. For the deaf, Crickley must be a haven!

After our cold and stormy spell last week, it was warm enough for shirt sleeves, though the oak and beech are already beginning to turn in the huge old wood above the cricket field. Gloucester Cathedral stood out clearly from the hill fort, as did the C&G head office at Barnwood: there will be many working there today, who are nervous about their future job prospects: Lloyds TSB surely won't want to keep two large building societies in parallel.

Glorious Gloucester

Clutching my wonderful bus pass and a sandwich, I set off for Gloucester yesterday with a view to exploring the County Records Office. That will have to wait till another day.

I was sidetracked by the Cathedral: just before I left home, Sarah Loveday had arrived, and said I should drop by the Cloisters to look at Diana Green's Creation & Fall etchings, which are on temporary display. So I did (and admired them); which led to an amble round the Ambulatory and into the Lady Chapel. I realised that, in spite of many previous visits, I was looking at much of what I saw for the first time.

An hour or more had passed when a Steward walked by. "Was I joining the Tower Tour, starting in five minutes?" "No," I said, but then thought, "Why not?" The tower of the Cathedral is visible on almost any walk around Cheltenham, but I had never climbed up it.

The guide on duty - it happened to be a friend of ours, Sue Hamilton - does not it seems share my fear of heights. Intrepidly she led us 175 steps up to Great Peter (which strikes the hours), into the adjacent Ringing Chamber, and up again past the ring of twelve bells. Finally, we emerged onto the roof, and there we were, in driving rain, 225 feet above the Cathedral floor.

The view is of course amazing, even on a day like yesterday. When taking the photograph above - there are some more in a web sequence beginning here - I was pointing the camera West over the nave. In mediaeval times, the River Severn would have been visible flowing from right to left in the top of the picture. The West walk of the Cloister is visible at the bottom right, and beyond it the half-timbered building is where Richard II is thought to have held his Parliament of 1378.

To its left is the former Deanery. Caroline's great-great-grandfather Dean Edward Rice, who held office for 36 years, would have lived there with his 12 children: he kept chickens in the Cloister garden, according to Tamara Talbot Rice's autobiography. Sue Hamilton said there were still chickens kept in a roof garden somewhere in the Cathedral Close: I didn't spot them.

At that height, you cannot help thinking about the faith of the monks who organized such a tower to be built 550 years ago. On the bus, I was reading a newspaper article by a professor of philosophy under the headline "The rise of Milliband brings at last the prospect of an atheist prime minister." God save us!