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Two views of Lincoln Cathedral
April 1997
Richard Stuart - treble
On Saturday 12th I set off in the car. We were going to Lincoln
because I was going to sing four services at Lincoln Cathedral with the choir. As well as
the choir, some members of the St Peter's Church congregation (mostly choir parents) and
a few people from further away (my Auntie, Uncle, Granny and Grandad for a start!) were
also going to attend services. The place we were going to stay in was called Edward King
House. Some other choir members including four of my chorister friends were also staying
there. It is the old bishop's palace, and from the car park there is a path up to the
cathedral. From our room there was a cathedral view. The cathedral looked wonderful,
especially at night when it was lit up, as I was expecting.
I did not really think about what it would be like inside, but it was wonderful! I was surprised that to get in you did not go through the main door but along a wooden tunnel under some scaffolding, and then through a door like the main entrance but smaller, and it was only one door not two. As we looked round we saw the coloured light from the excellent stained glass window on the ground. Catherine (my sister) laughed when I stood in the middle of the coloured light and she saw me "coloured in". We looked round at the brilliant building and looked in at the treasury. There were some lovely things. I saw the place where the services would take place and Bishop Hugh's Head Shrine. When we went to the songschool at 3.00pm I had a surprise. I thought it was just at the side at the same level. Actually it was up a spiral staircase (with wide steps, thankfully). I also thought that the stands in it would be "ole", but they were quite modern.
After the two hour practice we sang our first service that weekend - Saturday Evensong. It felt wonderful as we processed into the enormous St Hugh's Choir where the congregation were. The Nave was cut off with red ropes, beyond which were quite a few people watching us as we walked. This felt good as well. The service went fine. Sunday was the really busy day. We had three services to sing - two in the morning (Eucharist and Matins) and one in the afternoon (Evensong). The practice before the Eucharist was at twenty-five to nine, so I had to rush my bacon and mushrooms! After the practice we sang the Eucharist, which also went well. Between the Eucharist and Matins we had twenty minutes to wander around or go to the coffee shop. During this time I was shown the Lincoln Imp. From the pictures I had seen I thought it was quite big. Actually, it was impishly small! It can be found above a crowned head on a pillar next to St Hugh's shrine. It is sitting cross-legged and has a cheeky face!
For the first two services we had a director of music called Father Stephen, as Mr Teague was away. In the middle of Matins Mr Teague arrived. Stephen directed us through all of the Matins. After the service we had some choir photos just outside the cathedral and then we all went to the Eastgate Hotel near the cathedral for lunch in the "Lincoln Room". After the lunch, which was very nice, my mother took Catherine and Christopher (my brother) home, while we all went back to the cathedral for a practice. Mr Teague directed the practice and the service (Sunday Evensong), which went well. After this my father and I looked round the bits of Lincoln I had been too busy to see. Then it was time to leave. This was sad because I had had a wonderful weekend. I hope to go there again some day.
Graham Hibberd - tenor
The castle-turreted features of Edward King House loomed large in front of us. Set into the stonework by the huge wooden doors lay a panel of buttons, instantly inviting me to extend a pointing finger to the correct one - Warden, Caretaker or Receptionist. It was a lady who welcomed us in. "Please sign here" she said, sliding the big black register towards us.
We were joined by the Warden. "Where are you from?" he asked. "Really, but so are all the others." He pointed to the different family names in the register. "And how do you all know each other?" We had to explain. Slowly the penny was dropping. All the guests were in fact one big family - St Peter's.
"Breakfast is served at 8.30" continued the Warden. But that was when our rehearsals were due to start. A flurry of activity began. Down to the kitchen, parleying with the staff, a nod here, a consideration there, and within minutes all was settled to our delight. We would take breakfast one hour early.
Later that Saturday evening we stood in the foyer of our weekend headquarters. We had just spent an exciting time on the town. The view of the cathedral, silhouetted by floodlighting against the dark, cloud-filled sky, was breathtaking. We discovered that Heinz was a photographer. He had brought his fast modern camera with him but had forgotten the tripod, and was looking round anxiously, wondering what to do.
Suddenly, there in the corner by the reception desk was the answer. Shining, gleaming, its polished metal adorning the room, a hat and coat stand became the topic of conversation. Heinz's reaction was swift. Shedding from it its burden of garments, dumped unceremoniously on the floor, the sturdy stand was in no time aloft on his shoulders, and in horizontal posture, its coat hooks no longer pointing gracefully to the ceiling but backwards like the exhausts of a rocket. "Follow me!" cried Heinz. We duly obliged, treading the path up to the cathedral in fashion fanned out behind the coat stand like the tail of the comet Hale-Bopp.
No deterrent was the cool night wind blowing from the north. And now in front of the cathedral's magnificent floodlit western façade, the stand was placed on top. Snap, snap, photo after photo, the duties were done, the beautiful sounds of the afternoon's Evensong still echoing round the walls. Then a march, military-style back to the house, arriving at the front door just as the staff were leaving, their puzzled faces betraying inquisitive thoughts.
The festive mood now in unstoppable swing, a party was organised. Straightway to a bedroom we strode. The coffee flowed, Horlicks was swept back like Schnapps. We witnessed Helen's craving for chocolate, listened to Kammi's timeless tales of mediaeval Chinese chivalry, and marvelled at Laura's in-depth analysis of Welsh national songs and poetry. Proceedings were ended only by the silencing curfew of the cathedral clock chimes. I began to wonder what, in days to come, would be the most lasting memory of this alternative weekend. The open-top bus ride around the sights of Lincoln, observing the dozens of election posters for only one political party? Or would it be the sudden descent on the Chinese restaurant next to the Roman arch, sending the waitresses into a frenzy of chair-searching? Or could it be the meticulous examination of the Roman colonnade markings in Bailgate, or beating a hasty retreat from the Magna Carta after just one beverage (oh those insufferable piped-music decibels!) But no, none of these! It would be the vision of Heinz the photographer adding a new dimension to the splendid functions of an innocent, inanimate object - a humble yet unforgettable coat stand.
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Last revised 5th July 1997