Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Thursday, 31 October 2013
Right. Candlesticks. To begin.....
(pauses until the sound of John Gray closing the door behind him is heard)
The Evensong at All Saints church tonight will be for all the saints, and - believe me - there are a lot of them. Too many to be named in one church service, so they are all hallowed in one mass ritual in one short service.
"What I like about All Saints Eve," my normally non God-bothering friend says, "is the warmth and ritual - candles, bells and incense."
She has a point. You don't have to be a raving Christian to prefer the old rituals that the Happy-Clappy loonies shun along with the St James Bible, as they set up drum kits and plug in electric guitars.
One of the most magical experiences I ever had was when I walked into a small church in Hamburg on Christmas night, where a small chamber orchestra was accompanying a wonderful young soprano who sang something written by Bach.
The old church - which had survived the bombs and was as intact as it was when Bach himself played the organ there - was absolutely packed with semi-innebriated party-goers, but they all fell into a reverent hush to listen to the music.
It being so full, I was quite close to the back of the building, and was standing up.
The young woman fixed her gaze on me as soon as she sung the first note, and her eyes never left mine until the last. I fell in love, but stopped myself from paying her a visit at the stage-door at the end, for fear of breaking the spell.
They are selling these glass bead-covered skulls in the London outlet of Paul Smith, and I went inside to handle a few.
They are VERY attractive, but I managed to resist buying one - at £650. I would charge more if I made one myself, though.
Very Mexican Day of the Dead. They might even have been made in Mexico.