A personal impression by Dennis Woodward, Choir Friend
The band of brothers
I think first of the warmth and friendliness of the company on our coach which made the long journey not just tolerable but pleasant and relaxing. The quiet routine was broken, on occasions, by outbursts of microphone oratory, with the staccato delivery of Dick, the Route Master, balanced by the firm but steady tones of Jeffrey, the Master of Music. Coach driver Dave contributed, even though seriously out-verbalized!
I think of the Choir whom I hear and admire from my front seat in the Abbey every week. On the Holland trip I learned much more about them: I discovered a family who are there for each other, who know and understand each other, who have an unspoken but positive sense of pride. It was a privilege to be included.
However, when they took the stage to begin their concert on the Saturday evening, entering and assembling with an easy, quiet precision, they were more than singers or a family, they became a group personality, a presence. They won their audience before singing a note, and the prolonged applause at the end of their performance indicated that nobody was disappointed.
I remember with pleasure the Dutch people who came into contact with us, with their excellence in English - and their pride in it, I suspect. I was put in my place when I accosted a woman in a shop with: "Do you speak English?" to which she retorted: "Of course!" Again, at the Sung Eucharist in the Old Catholic Cathedral, we had seven well-known hymns, all printed in both English and Dutch, and a good proportion of the congregation chose English for their full-throated singing.
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Photocall
at the High Altar
Old Catholic Cathedral, Utrecht |
The weather in Utrecht was cold and damp, whereas the friendship and hospitality was warm and cheery. If the music produced refreshment of the spirit, we were generously repaid with refreshment of the body at both our venues. My last special memory is of the Choir at the beginning of the Cathedral service, standing in two curved lines across the East end and seeing, through the length of the Chancel, the packed congregation beyond. There they stood: "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."