Thurifer is seeking entertainment and a smattering of political intrigue

One of the highlights of lockdown was a Virtual Evensong in May imaginatively created by The Rodolfus Foundation and the Friends of Cathedral Music. It was a well-chosen selection of music, beautifully blended and synthesised into an harmonious and worthy offering. Superbly sung and visually attractive as one mosaic of singers moved seamlessly into another. It could not replicate a resonant cathedral acoustic, no fading echoes in the vaults but it well evoked the atmosphere of worship rather than concert. Bach, Herr Jesu Christ, dah zu uns wend set the scene, followed by Tallis, If ye love me. Preces and Responses were William Smith: Psalm 126 set by George M. Garrett: Psalm 133 music by Edward Elgar: Magnificat, Dyson (Evening Service in D): Nunc Dimittis, Victoria: Anthem, I was glad, Parry: Dismissal, Edward W. Naylor: Hymn, All my hope on God is founded, words by Robert Bridges, music Herbert Howells, Descant, John Rutter: Bach, Prelude and Fugue in E Flat major. 

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It was also a masterclass in how, and how not, to read the Bible in the liturgy. Stephen Fry, well-known Christian apologist, declaimed the conflict between David and Goliath as if it were from Lord of the Rings, all theatrical, rhetorical bluster. Per contra, Simon Russell Beale read the passage from St Paul “tongues of men and angels” ending with the trinity of Faith, Hope and Charity with such perfect modulation and attentiveness that, in its slight and subtle emphases on certain words and phrases, the lyrical, unforced beauty of his voice brought fresh insight to a familiar text. It was like hearing it for the first time. A remarkable achievement.

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As the campaign season for the USA Presidential election is upon us this month, here are two quotations about President Warren Harding. William McAdoo, admittedly a Democrat, Secretary of the Treasury and son-in-law of Woodrow Wilson, described a typical campaign speech of Harding as, “an army of pompous phrases moving over the landscape in search of an idea. Sometimes these meandering words actually captured a straggling thought and bear it triumphantly, a prisoner in their midst, until it died of servitude and overwork.” Even less of a fan was the journalist H. L. Menken who also addressed Harding’s oratory which he described as, “a series of wet sponges … tattered washing on the line … stale bean soup … college yells … dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of a dark abysm … of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It s balder and dash.” Could they possibly be applicable to any current candidate?

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Harding was one of the few Presidents to die in office and of natural causes. Four were a result of assassination: Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Kennedy. As President he does not enjoy a high posthumous reputation. His presidency, short as it was, was beset by scandal within his Cabinet. A good defence of his political skill, his successful career in his home state Ohio (a seed-bed of presidents) and his brief tenure of the White House is made in a biography, one in an excellent series The American Presidents. These are “pocket-sized” books, about 250-300 pages, and provide useful introductions to the men  (so far) who made it. A scandal-hit President has here a biographer not unacquainted with scandal. Those with long memories may remember the Watergate, the scandal that brought down Richard Nixon. John W. Dean was the White House Counsel embroiled in the cover-up who gave evidence to the Senate investigation committee, pleaded guilty to one charge in return for giving evidence for the prosecution. He did his time in prison. Disbarred from practise of the law he became a banker and author. Not a bad author. 

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A government advisor attends a meeting of government advisers. Unexceptional you might think but it made headlines for a few days during the pandemic lockdown. As a Geordie I instinctively defend my fellows: it is not always easy.  Although south of the Tyne and thus an effete southerner, Dominic Cummings, judged by his public persona mediated by the Press, does not play by the conventional rules of the political game. No interviews, gnomic answers when door-stepped by provocative journalists, boycott of some political programmes. And then it all changed. And what a fall there was. The Press pack had their foe in sight and were circling for the kill. Forced into a Press conference, they were salivating for their turn at the microphone. Neither his ill-considered action nor the unlovely pursuit were edifying. In clothes and attitudes, he appears not to care. He does seem to care that entrenched attitudes are complacent, and define an ancien regime that ought to be swept away as antithetical to the demands of the time. Has he captured the zeitgeist? Is he Svengali? Or the Cardinal Richlieu de nos jours? Were he the latter, he would be much better dressed.

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I have never accustomed myself to St Cuthbert’s ejection from Lent (20 March) to September (4). St Bede the Venerable, also subject to calendar “reform.” From canonisation in 1899 (merely 1164 years after death) 25, then 27 May since the Sixties. Aidan (31 August), Oswald (5 August), Benet Biscop (12 January) not changed, yet.