This was the rather startling allegation made by a member of the congregation to one of the Cathedral Chamber Choir after we’d performed Let all mortal flesh keep silence at the Sunday morning eucharist in York Minster. It seems that historians have overlooked the latent jingoism in his music when considering the origins of the Great War. ‘Think about that when you perform it!’
We didn’t have to wait long to reflect on Bairstow as warmonger because the afternoon’s anthem was Blessed City, heavenly Salem. Now I’m far from being a great fan of his music, but this was one objection to it which hadn’t occurred to me. And I can’t help feeling that if you dislike Bairstow’s music that strongly, then York Minster is probably the wrong place for you to go to church.
Our Mass setting was Rubbra’s Missa Sancti Domenici, which I remembered surprisingly well considering how long it was since I’d sung it. I’ve had a fresh chance to evaluate Rubbra’s choral music since I sang his evening canticles at Gloucester a few weeks ago, but I haven’t changed my view that writing choral music is one area where Cambridge’s academics definitely have the edge over Oxford’s (painful though it is to admit this). Although Cambridge does have to answer for Wood, whose Hail, gladdening Light we sang on Saturday and canticles in E flat (no. 2) on Sunday.
Lest this turn into a series of carps about repertoire, I’ll turn to some favourite pieces I sang at York. Friday was Gibbons night, with the Short Service and O clap your hands (I reacquainted myself with the second soprano part). Along with this was some wacky psalm pointing to keep us on our toes. On Saturday we sang the Leighton first service which I haven’t done properly for a few years; last time I sang it I didn’t have enough voice to do it justice.
A couple of Matins novelties I hadn’t sung before: Harris in A Benedicite (which tries to relieve the repetitive nature of the text by strewing little traps all along your path) and the Jubilate from Stanford in A.
The Sunday morning eucharist at York had the largest congregation I think I have ever sung to in an ordinary service. The full nave caught the Cathedral by surprise too, as the service booklets ran out. Perhaps Olympic success was having the same effect as Princess Diana’s death and causing a temporary increase in churchgoing.
The congregation on Sunday am was inflated because the Wrens (http://www.wrens.org.uk/) were having their National Reunion which is still flagged up on the website I have just visited.
When I get time I’m going to blog about Leighton generally. I liked the mention of wacky psalms; that’s ONE description.
I suspect the Minster imagined the WRNS would just be the odd pew or two rather than the block of smartly dressed ladies who filled a chunk of the nave. Actually given their numbers I think they could have had a service of their own, like a regimental service; but perhaps this isn’t done for women’s organisations.
Also I believe some other churches in central York don’t have a service in August, and they send their congregations to the Minster instead.
He might not have started international conflicts, but he had a pugilistic attitude to rehearsal, so I’m told!