This posting is out of sync with my travels. I have placed it earlier than it should have been to increase the variety of my later postings. Roslyn Chapel, near Edinburgh, has been moved from this date to August 16th.
I sit in seat PP1 in the incredible structure of York Minster waiting for a performance of Verdi’s Messa da Requiem to be performed by York University Choir and Symphony Orchestra. I feel very lucky to have gotten a ticket only last night. They had been sold out online when first I checked yesterday, then they weren’t later. I didn’t notice it had been two different suppliers, the box office for York Minster was sold out but York University had a few left.
I am a sucker for overly-dramatic classical works sung in languages I can’t understand. Last week I was entranced by Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater and this week it’s Verdi’s Requiem. I do prefer Pergolesi, but they both have incredible pangs of desperation in their music. Music cannot be written to be any more dramatic than these. If I understood the words it would take away from my experience entirely. Performed well, the passion and anguish and fever of the music itself conveys more emotion than words could ever do. I have never been one for words anyway. Even sung in English, my mother tongue, I usually miss them. This lent well to my own singing when I was easily passionate singing in German or Italian by just learning pronunciations. I had no idea what the words meant, but I felt their meaning from the composition. A “lyric Baritone” my classical voice coach called me when I was 16 years of age. I hum as I go about my day probably everyday, but I’ve not sang since I lived in Edinburgh 1997/1998.
According to my tour guide yesterday, York Minster is one of two Cathedrals in the world to have it’s own official police force. The other is the Vatican. This is also the largest medieval Cathedral in all of Northern Europe. This is one of the most impressive Gothic buildings in the world having been built between 1220 and 1440. This long span of construction meant that the structure has captured the various stages of Gothic architecture as it changed and developed over the years. There were other churches on this site from much earlier times as well.
I am so pleased to be visiting this venue for a dramatic musical performance, I can’t tell you how much so. I stop my writing when I am joined by a lovely Cheshire woman who arrives with her load of shopping. Looks like she has enjoyed some of the nearby boutiques, none of her bags have the large advertisements of chain shops. Turns out Ann spent 12 years living in my city of Toronto and the two of us catch like a house on fire. She sung a season with this choir but, “They were too good for me. Most of them are music students at the university and I couldn’t keep-up with the progress they made. They could learn the music so quickly.” She did enjoy singing in a village choir at some point, but here she is much happier to enjoy the performance from this side.
The concert is impressive, perhaps 300 voices and a large orchestra. With the reverberation some of the music is obscured into great mountains of thunder, but that’s not far off from Verdi’s intention anyway. There is a bit when the strings fight with the timpani drums that is somewhat lost because of how the sound blends in together. The dramatic stops and starts don’t stop and start because the echoes completely fill the spaces. It was a wonderful concert though and it was the kind of night when I couldn’t help but think, “I can’t believe this is my life.” In a good way, of course.
Click below to see the thunderous part I was referring to above:
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1woIv05rl1s
I had to stand quite far away to capture most of the front of York Minster in my viewfinder.
Excited to be attending a performance of Verdi in the York Minster!
Inside the main area of this massive Cathedral keying in this entry as I wait until my amicable seatmate arrived to share some conversation.
I couldn’t see the symphony but I could certainly hear them! The choir, on tiers, was fun to watch.
Earlier today I walked along parts of York’s city walls and wandered around the city.
A little cutaway at a gate of the city’s walls.
Clever sign, how did you know? (But what it didn’t know was that I needed it from Betty’s. Sorry sign.)
I climbed up this gate, on Micklegate, to walk along the walls. But there are numerous entry points.
Visitors have been walking along these walls since trains first introduced mass tourism to York in the 1830s. Locals, of course, have been walking along them throughout the ages.
Notice the addition of railings so that visitors don’t fall to their death. Very clever.
There are lovely views from the city walls too, and lots of nice garden areas.
This large ferris wheel is only here temporarily. It stands very near to the train station.
The main tracks at the station stand on mass graves from a cholera outbreak. That was a while back though.
This is when I passed this hotel and was able to correct a detail in my previous York posting.
Lovely metalwork on this bridge I’m about to cross, it stands linking the city walls.
Here it is closer where you can see the details of the city walls and tower-like structures on both sides.
Looking up the Ouse river from the bridge. If people along the River Tyne are Tynesiders, I would suggest these people could be called Ousies. What do you think, people of York? Good idea?
Interior view of Lendal Bridge.
I just thought this was fun, a 500-year lease for one peppercorn per year!
Most of the city walls we walk on are Victorian rebuilds. I will show in another posting a bit of original Roman remains.
There’s lots more to come about the wonderful city of York, a city stepped in rich heritage, history, and medieval architecture. My next posting will come along in 4 days. Don’t miss it, follow me today!
Filed under: York & Near York
