I had found two free lunchtime concerts listed for that day, and resolved to spend the day at St. Paul’s Cathedral, in the heart of London. I walked into the cavernous nave to the sound of about 40 American voices singing “O Happy Day” and swaying in gospel harmony. A group from South Carolina, they arrayed in a semi-circle right under the awesome cathedral dome – some 100+ feet across, nearly 200 feet above us – and gave us tourists some old time religion. Actually, since this is a cathedral space, I found it very gratifying that once an hour a canon comes to the PA system to ask for a few minutes of silence and prayer amid the London hubbub.
I took the full tour of the place, amazed at the treasures, the memorials to famous men, and all the history of the place. The fifth cathedral on the site, it was built in 1677-1708 following the Great Fire of London, by Sir Christopher Wren, and remains much as he has envisioned it. Lord Nelson and the Iron Duke (of Wellington) are buried in the crypt, and there are countless monuments linking glory with death in battle: including one to Captain George Blagdon Westcott (of Devonshire), buried at sea after a glorious victory over the French in 1797, and doubtless related to my forbearers (from neighbouring Somerset).St. Paul’s is an inspiring architectural monument, and I climbed the 530 steps to the “Golden Gallery,” able to look out over the Thames and the great metropolis before thundershowers chased us down. The Quire (that’s right; not spelled “choir”) features amazing baroque carving Grinling Gibbons, whose decorative arts Ellie has come to know in her studies. The American Memorial Chapel stands behind the High Altar in an area that was bomb-damaged during the Blitz of 1940: it has three stained-glass windows that contain images of the seals of the 48 (wartime) states, and a leather volume listing the 28000 Americans who didn’t come home from Europe.
As dinner time approached Ellie and I conferred by cell phone to assess the unstable weather, as we planned to rendezvous for outdoor supper on a blanket on the (damp) grass. The occasion was the outdoor simulcast from the Royal Opera House of Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia. We had been to a digital simulcast from the Metropolitan Opera (NY) before, and guessed that the sound quality and camera work would be excellent. As silly as anything from Gilbert & Sullivan, we saw excellent acting and a major heartthrob tenor Juan Diego Florez. It rained – HARD – for the first five minutes, but we got through the three hour performance damp but excited, and protected by the ground cloths and inflatable pillows provided free by the sponsors. But the big story was the American mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato, who performed flawlessly from a wheelchair, having broken her leg on opening night(!!) Her performance got rave reviews, and she tells the entire story on her blog. Talk about a class act! As the stars came out and the chill took hold, we found our way back to Cousin Nancy’s for the night on the wonderful Underground.
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