The wandering organist

Well, not quite free, but playing at a church again. After 4 months, I finally got my little fingers on the keyboard of a real organ. And it was the lovely Bevingdon of St Mary, Kemptown . I've been attending services, but only via the internet. Not the same. Better than nothing, but not the same. I've posted photoes of St Mary's before, but this time I took some pictures during the service (still only virtual for the congregation) as I was able to wander around without disturbing anyone. So here's a small selection. And, just to show we're an inclusive church, the 'concelebrant', Magnus, who's a sweety, and very good in church.

I see that I haven't posted here for some while. Mostly laziness, I'm afraid, but a side order of moving home and this wretched virus has meant that some things have been put to one side. Moving home: I put the flat on the market in July 2019. Got an offer within three days and found somewhere to live. It turned out that the offer was from someone who couldn't afford it, and the place I found had a structural problem caused by next door trying to dissolve the garage (don't ask). Next, back on the market, and found a place (this time in a town I wanted to live in, not Littlehampton), and got another buyer. By November it was revealed that the buyer was a fantasist and I had to withdraw my offer on the place in Portslade. Generic bungalow of the same sort. Home sweet home! Come December I got another buyer (dear God!) but the over £5000 service charge for fireproofing, redecorating common ways and replacing the garage roofs became due, and so I was £5000 down. ...

Living and working in Worthing. Not the biggest/smallest/glammest/prettiest of towns, but I am lucky to live here. When I lived in Earls Court my car turned grey over the course of a day, but now I can drive home and stop for a brief wander on the beach. Bluer than the Mediterranean when last I saw it (February) and This misses the sparkle, the "innumerable laughter of the sea" as Dorothy L Sayers puts it. Refreshes the spirit wonderfully after a day at the office.

Today I was back in Findon for Trinity Sunday (45 years a church organist today liturgically), which coincidentally was the visit of residents of Schney in Bavaria, who are twinned with Findon. It was also an all-age service. The Vicar had, since it was Trinity Sunday, put down St Patrick's Breastplate which is theologically wonderful but crap for congregations to sing. It wasn't helped by the Mayhew book omitting a few verses and the vicar omitting a couple more, so we had the first verse, Christ within me and the last verse with its utterly unhelpful organ accompaniment (pinched from AMR which, since it's Stanford (d.1924), is out of copyright). Sitting by the organ console there were two people who knew it, as did the vicar. I couldn't hear much coming from the rest of the church... The readings and sermon were in English and German. I just about caught one word in 10 of the latter. During communion I played the Walton Elegy  (from music written for Richard III ), ...

Yesterday morning was an unexpected pleasure when the previous Tuesday, I was asked if I could stand in at short notice at Findon, their organist booked for the day had a problem. A normal 4-hymn eucharist, with Bach during communion and Frank Bridge after. In the afternoon, I thought that, since it was a lovely day, I'd go to a choral evensong. Chichester had Purcell in C and his Thy Word is a Lantern.   Guildford had Howells' Gloucester service and Finzi's Lo, the full final sacrifice . So Guildford it was, 35 miles through the Sussex Downlands and Surrey commuterland. As I was standing, gormlessly, at the back of the cathedral, two friends greeted me, they'd some up from Portsmouth for the same reason (nothing much on at their diocesan cathedral - Chilcott 3 choirs service and Mathias' Let the people praise thee, a service, slightly confusingly, described as choral evensong "with Commemoration of the WWI Centenary ringing by Winchester & Portsmou...

Well, as spring springs, and the beautiful sunshine makes the world a brighter place, I'm back to wandering. An old haunt, St John Findon , in its picturesque setting, and most of the blossom already gone. The wild primroses out in force and the daffs a little past their best. The service, a simple communion with the Murray setting and hymns, always appeals. Today it was taken by my former colleague, (now Rev) Colin Cox. I had forgotten he was attached to the parishes and when I was told it was "Colin" taking the service, thought nothing about it. Organ case on the west tower wall The organ, an unlovely-looking thing, skulks in the rafters of this fine and unusual church, which makes it awkward to photograph.  Sound-wise, it is a little on the reticent side, apart from the Trumpet, which is not subtle. The Swell stops are slightly louder than the Great, too. It has a 16' Open Metal, unusual for a village church. The Swell box is to the right of the gold-ish ...

Well, where have I been? Having never been to a civil Remembrance day ceremony, I decided to do the Worthing one. I checked the website which said it started at 11 with the silence, followed by a march-past of local uniformed organisations. I thought this a little eccentric, so turned up about a quarter of an hour early to find about two to three hundred people there, scattered across Chapel Rd, which might be a bit of a challenge for the mach-past. A band was providing music on a sporadic basis, and at about five to the hour they ended Nimrod and there was a pause in proceedings. Well, I realised that the tannoy system must be faulty when at two minutes to the hour, a solo bugler sounded the last post. There had to have been some speech before that ("They shall not grow old..."). It was all the more obvious that things were not quite as they should be when, at 11am, with the maroon gone bang and the Town Hall bell chiming the hour the bugler was already halfway through so...