Sunday, December 28, 2014

Sing more cheerily

     I was having an online chat with a friend of mine, who is a priest.  He was bemoaning his decrease in attendance and monetary offerings.  Christmas and Easter are usually his best times for that.  Having listened to the webcasts (which remain posted for a long time) of his Christmastime services, I made a suggestion.  Include more Christmas cheer.  
     "What?  Start singing Frosty the Snowman?" he chided incredulously.  (*in fact,the word "chided" has roots in ancient pagan Rome).  No, I replied, there are hundreds of lovely upbeat/inspiring Christmas carols… and he (and his organist/choir director) had picked so many dry/solemn ones.  "Oh, so you want a version of the movie 'Sister Act', where the choirs jazz it up?" he joked.  Nope.  (although the revised music did save the church, in that film)
     "But Advent is a solemn season," he said, "some cultures even begin fasting in their diets."  I replied that the churches which instill Christmas spirit in people will garner more support from them.  It's as simple as that.  I suggested having the pipe organ, brass ensembles, handbell choir and vocal choirs perform evenings of Christmas carols… perhaps a performance for each group.  In addition to the solemn songs.  Lots of churches sing merrily before Christmas Day.
     I suggested going Christmas caroling through the neighborhoods.  And to those who are "shut in".  Especially near the subways.  Its all about visibility and outreach.  It'll also give the proud parents something to support.  It'll also give the musicians' and choristers' friends something to support.  Conduct a food drive at the local well-known grocery stores.  Announce the events on the church's website, via emails, from the pulpit, and through the church newsletter.  The more people you can imbue with a special sense of faith, uplifting spirit, sense of community and enthusiasm, the more they will respond.  If you're as wealthy as the Vatican, then you can maintain a solemn liturgy--even on Christmas Eve--as they do.

*To see our visit to the Vatican, please click this link:



     I sent him a list of songs from my own iPod playlist (including some unique secular ones for neighborhood caroling):
Zither Carol
Noel, Noel, Bells are Ringing
Masters in this Hall
Ding Dong! Merrily on High
Angels from the Realm of Glory
Sing We Now of Christmas
Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabella
Fum, Fum, Fum
Noel Francais
Good King Wenceslas (the do-good King of Bohemia)
Heigh Ho the Holly!
Once in Royal David's City
Sing We Enchant It
Still Still Still
Tu Scendi Dalle Stelle
In Sweetest Jubilee
Bright, Bright the Holly Berries
The Holly and the Ivy
Christmas Eve in My Home Town
Here We Come A Caroling
I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm
O Tannenbaum
The Secret of Christmas
Silver Bells
Warm December
December Time
You Don't Have to Be A Santa Claus
Christmas Dreaming
Christmas Is
Cool Yule
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
I Wouldn't Trade Christmas
I've Got the Christmas Spirit
Kissing By the Mistletoe
Over the River and Through the Wood (even though its a Thanksgiving song)
Ring Those Christmas Bells
Runnin' On Eggnog
That Holiday Feeling

He was impressed.
     He began to back-peddle, saying that things are the way they are… just because thats the way its always been.  That is false!  I responded by indicating that Jesus hadn't been born in December.  He was a summertime baby (the shepherds and sheep were sleeping in the pastures at night).  As scholars have pointed out, the Church moved Christmas to December, as a recruitment and membership-gathering technique.  They wanted the support of certain pagan/other-religious groups, and those groups had pre-existing festivals/feasts in December.  Thus, Christmas was moved to December, as a Win-Win scenario.
      So, whats wrong with tweaking the song list during Christmas, in another attempt to attract more support?  And singing cheerful carols throughout the community will help enrich others, too.  He didn't have an answer, and it made him think.  He said that he didn't dislike the ideas.


(if they don't mind putting Christmas lights on the nativity scene {as if THAT is authentic}, then perhaps they won't mind singing more cheerily)

     He then made the comment that church-going folks might not like varying too much from church doctrine.  Really?  That also brought to mind the millions of people who are devoutly religious… but who still regularly participate in superstitious/pagan rituals.  For example, in the archipelago-nation of Greece, they don't use Christmas trees.  Instead, they keep a wooden bowl of water in their homes with a basil leaf wrapped around a wooden cross in it.  Daily, someone dips the cross into the water and sprinkles water throughout their home.  Why?  To keep away the bad spirits.  In England, they celebrate Epiphany by burning the yule log and going into the orchards to drink and sing "wassail" to bring a bountiful harvest.  Germany and the Baltic nation of Latvia have similar notions.  In the Nordic nation of Finland, they eat star-shaped cookies, but if any cookie should break into 3 pieces, all the pieces must be eaten silently… and a wish will come true.  *Lewis and I ate one of them in Finland, and it was scrumptious!  To read about that trip, please click this link:


An Ecuadorian friend of mine, who wears a cross around her neck and goes to church every Sunday, still follows the custom of putting an upside down broom near her front door, to keep unwanted people away.  Despite their Catholicism, Colombians still practice some pagan rituals for prosperity (below).  



     Another Latin American friend prefers keeping a glass of water behind her door, to absorb bad spirits.  Lewis knows that even Asian Christians go to church but also keep fruit/incense offerings (at home and in their businesses) for Buddhas--to bring prosperity and ward off evil.  Many people of all faiths strongly believe in feng shui (as do I).  Many modern Catholic Italians are wary of "the evil eye", keep loaves of bread right-side-up (since bread is the symbol of Christ) to maintain good luck, have older relatives who esteem witchdoctors, believe in good omens, and say incantations when New Moons appear.



     Things being the way they are, some well-arranged and well-performed music (done with "heart") might bring the Word into understanding through invigorated and opened minds.  

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Spirit of Christmas Giving

     As quoted from Charles Dickens timeless "A Christmas Carol" (lectured by Scrooge's good-hearted nephew [the most generous soul, besides Scrooge's ex-boss Fezziwig]): "There are many things that make me happy.  Things that haven't increased the size of my purse by anything.  Christmas is one of them.  I've always looked upon Christmas as a kind, charitable, forgiving, pleasant time.  Its the only time when people open their hearts freely.  That all human beings are really part of the same "family", and they owe each other some measure of love and warmth.  Thus, even though that spirit of Christmas hasn't put a scrap of gold in my pockets, I believe that it has done me good and will do me good."


     That being said, its shameful to learn from Lewis about the cheapening and deteriorating sense of Christmas Thanks from his company.  When I met Lewis, three years ago, his company spent a budget of $100 per person to take his retail team out for a hearty Christmas party.  Since then, senior management within the company (as well as store management) has been changed/terminated.  
     Then, the budget dropped to $50 per person, which still afforded for a very nice Christmas dinner.  Last year, it was reduced to $40 per person… which made it a challenge to find a decent Christmas meal in NYC.  Thankfully, Lewis recommended a place that offered a "Winter Prix Fixe Menu".
     This year, the budget has diminished to only $25 per person.  Its not even enough to have a dinner.  So, the new management team (seemingly thankful for anything from Corporate) suggested ordering Deli Food or Chinese Food or Pizza to be delivered to the store, after hours on Christmas Eve.  Nobody wanted to stay later at work!  So, last Sunday, Lewis suggested that they buy their own lunches, and the store's meager Holiday Budget could reimburse them.  Everyone loved the idea.  One young fellow bought 2 lobster rolls from the Food Court in the Plaza Hotel (a place where their recently-fired VP of Stores used to take them for "luxury training sessions").  Another bought 3 Deli sandwiches to last throughout the week.  2 others bought gift cards for Duane Reed.  Yet, it didn't bring any sparkle of Christmas, nor any Sense of Gratitude or Giving.  
     Its amazing that the prices of merchandise at Lewis' company increased steadily during the last three years.  Each year, his luxury boutique gets a higher Sales Goal, and they achieve their goals.  Each year, Lewis makes his company more money than last year (he's the TOP salesman in the country).  And yet, his so-called "luxury" company cheapens its treatment of the employees--who make its revenue.  That is a crappy and insulting "Thank You"!
     I'm reminded of a movie quote, "When I hear the "privileged" talking, I hear words oozing from a moth-eaten sofa.  They're back in 1746.  They believe that the 40 million people in the country exist to make them comfortable.  They grumble about inconveniences like being deprived of imported bath salts.  They fear "the people" because those "common folk"--who do all the work--may suddenly wonder why they're wasting their lives and risking their futures to keep the "privileged" afloat."
     As comparison, one of Lewis' colleagues has a boyfriend who works at Gramercy Tavern, owned by Danny Meyer.  For their Holiday party, Meyer took the entire restaurant's staff out for dinner/drinks at the exquisite eatery, Per Se, with a budget of $400 per person.  And invited each staff member's "significant other".  I'm sure that Lewis' company makes more money than Danny Meyer's Hospitality Group.
     Perhaps you noticed that my blog reflects the cheapening of the NYC retail environment, the Scrooge-ish treatment that it gives its employees, and the cheapening of its standards.  Such a shame.  Yet, I hope you don't become cynical.  Reread the above quote, and do your best to make the holiday as special as possible.  Perhaps my earlier blog post about Random Acts of Kindness with inspire you.  Think of the Ghost of Christmas Spirit: you can't change the past or future, but you can savor the opportunities of today.  (Its also the premise of the Christmas movie, "12 Dates of Christmas").  Let today's story show you what NOT to do.  After all, what you put out comes back to you.  That being said, (and as Scrooge's nephew proclaimed) Merry Christmas to you and a blessed New Year!

*To see ideals that should be embraced during the Holiday Season, please use this link:

Monday, December 22, 2014

Walking Tour : Saint Thomas Church Fifth Avenue for Lessons & Carols

     It's our annual tradition to partake in Lessons & Carols on the fourth Sunday of Advent at Saint Thomas Fifth Avenue.  It is uplifting and beautiful in every way!  Lewis and I love services at St. Thomas: the most beautiful Episcopal church in Manhattan.  When it was built, it had an illustrious address on Fifth Avenue at Fifty-Second Street.  As a masterpiece "city church", the 1913 structure is entirely constructed of wood and stone: no modern steel reinforcement!  



     It is situated in the "heart of the city", in central Midtown.


     Here's a quick story of its generosity: In 1906, the parish was raising money to construct the church.  Hearing of the disastrous San Francisco Earthquake, the rector (priest) donated all the money to that city.  As he began fundraising again, an impressed NYC citizenry donated plenty of funds for the current building.



     Imposing statues look down from the main entrance on Fifth Avenue.  The double-doors evoke medieval grandeur. 






     There is an entrance on 53rd Street (to the Parish House), a "Bride's door" (for weddings), and a "north porch" door that's rarely opened.  A tourist snickered at the two-fingered logo above the Bride's Door because he assumed that it symbolized what a husband can do to his wife on their wedding night!  Geez.


     Relatedly, Dan Brown's whistleblowing book, The DeVinci Code, awoke the world to the revelation that church entranceways were designed to resemble a woman's vagina, and Saint Thomas has one.


    Notice that exterior.  Famed illustrator, Norman Rockwell used it for his sketch in 1957, highlighting how humans fail to improve themselves, as they trudge through their prescribed routines.  The title was "Lift Up Thine Eyes".

 

     If you literally look up at Saint Thomas, you'll see that one of its flagpoles waves the flag of the Episcopal Church.



     It looks suspiciously like the national flag of England, which features the Cross of Saint George, the patron saint of England. 


     That's because when America consisted of Britain's 13 Colonies, the official religion was the Church of England.  After the Revolution of Independence, America broke away from that Crown-controlled religion and created its own: Episcopal.  (The nine white crosses represent the original dioceses of 1789).  Both religions are Anglican and have many similarities.  


     Saint Thomas belongs to the Diocese of New York, which was one of the original.  Its logo incorporates windmills to acknowledge the city's Netherlandish origins... before British takeover.


     Alas, the dioceses is headquartered at NYC's famously-incomplete Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, on Amsterdam Avenue in the Upper West Side.  That place stands grotesquely unfinished, lacking its towers--with one half-built.  Like many things in NYC, when money failed, it was abandoned because nobody cared to finish it and moved on to new projects.  The facade is indicative of a church that lacks focus and lacks events.  (Saint Thomas surpasses it with a calendar full of events).



    Saint Thomas was built with Kentucky limestone in an authentic medieval style (materials, height, and spacing of the load-bearing columns), thus affording the unique acoustics that make church music so grand.  The roof is 95-feet high with ribbed vaulting.  Oak was used for the pews, pulpit, its canopy, and the lectern.



     Regrettably, NYC put a subway tunnel directly underneath, and it allowed to deteriorate to this day.  Here is an image...


     A subway station is across the street from the church.  Unlike how public transit was done in London, NYC uncaringly did not exert itself to include sound muffling qualities.  So, whenever a train rumbles through the tunnel under the church, the noise echoes throughout the acoustics.  Lewis and I learned to ignore that noise pollution and remind ourselves that we sit in an oasis of the "urban jungle".


     Standing in the nave, your eyes are drawn to the far wall, where the church's reredos soar upward behind the altar.  It is a masterpiece of craftsmanship that is unseen nowadays.  Figures are carved from stone: apostles, prophets, clergy.







     Seen above, you can sit cozily up in the arched gallery on the left (just within the colonnade).  



     Underneath it is the Chantry Chapel for prayers.  




     Candles are freely available in several areas for visitors to ignite while making prayerful thoughts.


     Some parishioners like to sit in the cozy aisle between that low-ceilinged Chapel and the main Nave.  There are unique parts of the main ceiling: soaring arches are very close together.




     The choir and clergy sit in the chancel, in front of the congregation.  





     Seen above, every Gospel Procession at St. Thomas is always "amongst the people" who sit in the pews.  I know the man who is second from left: Barry.  He gave me a tour of the church.

     St. Thomas has 3 massive pipe organs.  Seen below, two of them face each other while towering over the chancel.


     The main one has 8,916 pipes!  (Further south on Fifth Avenue, St. Patrick's Cathedral has 7,855).






     Lewis likes the one above the rear gallery--shown below--which has 1,700 pipes and cabinet doors that can enclose it.




     9 million pieces of stained glass decorate the church!  







     Its fascinating to participate in an evening service and watch the jewel-like blue and violet tones of the highest windows slowly dim, as the sun goes down.





*To see when we witnessed the tallest stained glass windows in the world, please click this link:



     With such a grandiosity, you will correctly assume that services at St. Thomas use a "high church" format.  
     As an Episcopal church, it is gay-friendly, and gay attendees dress colorfully.  On that Sunday, a nice gay fellow seated next to us complimented my green tartan trousers and my "Advent-purple" gloves.  In return, I complimented his red/blue checkered trousers and fir-green cardigan.  


     St. Thomas is the only church in North America to run a boarding school exclusively for its choir boys.  It was founded in 1919.  In fact, other than Westminster Abbey in England and El Escorial in Spain, it's the only Choir School in the world which exclusively educates boy trebles.  40 students are currently enrolled, and they hold perfect pitch via boyish energy.  The school's impressively-big building is nearby on 58th Street.  









     Those 40 boys (under the age of 14, when puberty causes their vocals to change) have amazing quality!  Sometimes, they're augmented by "gentlemen of the choir"; many are professional opera singers.  For festive services, an orchestra is hired.


      On chillier days, you may see the boys on the sidewalks, wearing their crested St. Thomas cloaks.


     Their current Choirmaster, John Scott, was lured from directing music at St. Paul's Cathedral in London!  His twinkling eyes, great mind for music excellence, and gregariously British voice have been creating amazing masterpieces.





     Their last Rector was as "dry as toast" and appeared in newspaper headlines for his odd behaviors and inappropriately anti-gay sentiments.  Thankfully, he is gone.  The vestry was fortunate to call the Rev. Canon Carl Turner to be their new Rector.  He and his wife relocated from the gorgeous Exeter Cathedral in England.  (A cannon is a senior-level priest).


     His sparkle, tendency for dialogue, experience with famous choirs, dignity, and plummy British accent will enliven and give a hearty boost to the parish.  He's revamping the parsonage because he, his wife, and 3 adopted kids welcome people into their home.  



     The rector also opens the church to visitors/preachers from other denominations and religions.  Lewis and I met the 104th Archbishop of Canterbury, when he presided there in 2017.

     Needless to say, he prepared NYC church-goers for a December full of wonderful music: Advent hymns, Choral Evensong (like Vespers but with incense and choir music), Festal Evensong, Christmas carols, and ticketed performances of Handel's Messiah (which he composed in Dublin, Ireland).  *Lewis and I saw the church where he wrote the music, and if you use this link, you can see it, too:

     The jewel in the calendar is A Festival Service of Nine Lessons & Carols.  Saint Thomas Fifth Avenue does it better than anywhere in New York City!  This year, Lewis and I invited our friends, Derreck and Franco, to join us for that 4pm service (and a scrumptious dinner afterwards with robust wine to match our enlightened spirits).  Franco is from Switzerland, and he is a diehard fan of the Vienna Boys Choir, so he was skeptical that an American vocal group could match them.  He was awed!

     
     Fr. Turner invited the neighboring Catholic Bishop O'Hara.  Both men wore their birettas: Lewis liked the pom-poms.  


     Lewis likes organ music, and we savored the 2 assistant organists alternating music on the front and back organs.  The rumbling low notes of the front organ were great during Silent Night.  Its amazing that its vibrations didn't shake the glass loose in the windows!  Ha ha!


     Each year, "Lessons & Carols" begins with Once in Royal David's City.  A chorister is suddenly chosen randomly by the Choirmaster to begin singing the first part of the song… solo.  Part of the fun/terror is being chosen randomly.  That lone crystal-like voice fills up the church.  Then, the boys and men sing the second part, with the boys' higher voices soaring above, as if to hit the rafters.  The choir starts a procession down the side aisle with 2 crucifers, 4 torchbearers, choirmaster, clergy, the rod-carrying verger, and the rector.  The candlelit line fills the aisle from front to back!  They reach the back of the church, and they turn and go up the center aisle to their seats on either side of the altar.  


     It was so lovely that Franco dropped his program.  

     The other notable thing about attending services at St. Thomas is that it brings great people into the pews who have great voices to sing.  Every time I go, I'm surrounded by lovely people who really love to sing… and that makes the congregational hymns so much better.  That night, the gay fellow to my left had a lovely tenor voice, and a robust man behind us belted out the notes with talented gusto.  (At the end, I turned and thanked him for making the service so extra pleasant in our section, to which he blushed and bashfully thanked me).  


     The church was festively festooned with lots of greenery.  There was pine garland (artificial = fire-proof) wrapped around the candles holders that lined the pews.  The advent wreath was glowing overhead, and tall illuminated pine trees stood on either side of the altar.  Large wreaths hung along the walls and under the triforium's vaulted archways.  


     The other carols included some favorites: Ding, Dong! Merrily on High, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, The Joys Seven, King Jesus Hath a Garden (a Dutch melody), It Came Upon A Midnight Clear (arranged by Scott), In Dulci Jubilo (a fourteenth-century German carol), and Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.  A Basque carol, Sing Lullaby was also performed. During a fifteenth-century English carol, A Babe is Born, the boys' voices practically soared and chimed together like handbells!  The organ postlude included Sussex Carol.  



     Each year, it is entertaining to see who is chosen to read the lessons.  Whichever choirboy they pick always has excellent intonation and pronunciation.  (Clearly, their school gives good education).  Next, the Choirmaster read a lesson with his ear-soothing accent.  A little girl from the Sunday School could barely reach the lectern.  


A Gentleman of the Choir read, followed by the Headmaster of the Choir School, and a Lector.  The were followed by a "Member of the Congregation" and a "Warden of the Parish".  (The Verger doesn't read, but he does get to carry his verge: a pointed rod that was historically used to defend priests against troublemakers).  


     As a prompt person, the rector ascended the intricately-carved pulpit just as bells in belltower chimed.  While they tolled to signify 5 o'clock, he read the climactic ninth lesson.  



     Fr. Turner gave a jovial sermon about what he saw on the city's sidewalks whenever he walked his terrier, Bertie.  He thinks the city needs a lot of help.  He advised us to keep our hearts full of Christmas spirit, to spread charity of heart, and to give heartfelt gratitude.  


      The recessional hymn was beautifully performed--with the whole church putting their lungs into the effort!  At the front doors, we shook hands with the vicar.  When we encountered the rector, I thanked him for bringing dignity to the parish.  I wished him a Blessed Christmas, and he returned the favor.  Outside, Franco exclaimed, "The boys' voices were like jewels!  So beautiful.  I can't believe it!"  

     Our sumptuous troupe of gentlemen headed for dinner literally "around the corner" to The Modern at MoMA.  It's a delightful restaurant that earned two Michelin stars.  Lewis and I ate there several times for lunches and dinners.  




     Evan, the gaily-sounding host, was efficient: our table was immediately ready.  My artisanal cocktail included gin, fennel syrup, lemon, and black mission fig bitters.  Lewis imbibed bourbon, tamarind, burnt orange syrup, and spiced bitters.  We shared a dozen fried oysters and a delicious Tarte FlambĂ©: Alsatian flatbread baked with crème fraĂ®che,  onions, and bacon.  Our waitress gave advance warning that there were only a few quantities of roast Foie Gras available in the kitchen.  We ordered one… then upon receiving it, we beckoned her and ordered ANOTHER one!  Triumphs!
     As always, their bread was amazing, with perfectly spreadable butter.  Danny Meyer is the owner, and he sources ingredients from local organic farmers, creameries, small-batch suppliers, and farmer's markets.
     Four waiters attended us in seamless unity.  Adam, the dining room captain, served our courses from platters and poured sauces onto our plates.  With posture and decorum, he asked if he could assist us in any way further?  I asked for a wine to accompany my Branzino.  He smiled (Derreck said he was flirting with me), leaned over my shoulder (any closer and he would've rubbed off my vetiver cologne), and guided my hand down the list, suggesting a Jean-Marc Morey Montrachet chardonnay.  It was delicious.  I bypassed the presentation of the bottle, because I trust Meyer's staff.  
     For dessert, our foursome shared dark chocolates, pumpkin macarons, cream-filled wafers, and chocolate mouse.  Espresso for me, and a digestif for Franco.  At the maĂ®tre d' podium, we received our coats, and we embarked into the chilly night.  

     Derreck grew up in America's southern climate, so he wished for a bit of snow (to make our festive evening ideal).  As if Heaven answered his prayer, a snow flurry suddenly began to fall!  He shrieked with glee, drawing attention of out-of-towners who waited in queues to enter Fifth Avenue stores.  We walked under the giant Swarovski crystal suspended above the avenue.  It's the ONLY street decoration that NYC invests in.


     We passed a frustrated traffic cop.  He seemed unable to get the foreign tourists to understand him.  I leaned in and wished him a sympathetic "Best of Luck".  He gave a nod and said, "Merry Christmas!"  We hollered it back.  We had cheer to conclude a heavenly evening.

*To see a full Restaurant Review of The Modern, please use this link: