28 December 2009
Christmas Dinner
Jackie and I spent Christmas Day cooking. A few pictures from our feast (and a few from Christmas Eve dinner thrown in there, too!):
27 December 2009
Nine Lessons and Carols, part II
For those of you who I haven't told already: we made it to the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols (mentioned in an earlier post)!
The only way to get into the service (unless you're in with the College bigwigs) is to queue. So, Jackie and I got up early on the 24th and arrived, by foot, outside Kings' College at about 7am. The queue was already at least a hundred strong:
The queue at 7am in front of Kings' College.
The Chapel is just visible behind the bright lights that mark the entrance to
the College against the dark sky. Dawn in Cambridge is just past 8am.
The queue was admitted into the college grounds at about 7:30am. We started introducing ourselves to the people around us, a highly suggested early-day activity in the purple leaflets entitled 'Information for those in the queue' that we were handed upon entering the college grounds. Breaking queue for short breaks (~20 min.) on a wait that long is expected, so knowing those around you is important.
Most of the folks around us were local. The two tennis players in front of us had a 5 mile drive to get to the city center; after stores opened around 9am, they took turns nipping out to get last minute Christmas presents at nearby department stores. A man and his adult daughter a few spots behind us were real veterans of the queue; coming to the service is has been his Christmas tradition since his teens when his father first brought him. We learned another 'tradition of the queue' from them: many old-timers take a break at noon to head to the roaring fire at the Eagle (the local pub of RAF and Watson and Crick fame), which starts serving strong drinks at noon. A Canadian man and his wife got to the queue early and then--a Christmas present from their daughter, now a Cambridge local--an undergrad showed up at 9am to hold their spot for the next 4 hours. We also chatted with a Belgian lady (wearing a fuchsia Lands End down coat) and her welsh husband, attending for their second year, and a lawyer from New Zealand practicing in London.
Several people behind us, there was a group of Chinese students (including one of my mentees from the English Language Mentoring Scheme at Churchill). They were some of the lucky few to be interviewed for NPR when Michael Barone came around close to 11 to get soundbytes from the shivering masses in the queue. (I'm pretty sure it was him; he looked familiar from the NPR recording of the Craighead-Saunders organ I attended at Christ Church in Rochester last fall)
The excitement level in line rose noticeably at about 10:30, when the choir paraded by in their top hats and purple scarves.
the first choir sighting of the day
There was more excitement at 1pm, when an a capella group came around with rousing holiday tunes, like 'Chestnuts Roasting...' and 'Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer', and a former chorister worked his way down from the front of the line doling out Christmas cheer from a large box of chocolates.
We were finally allowed into the chapel at about 1:30. We were allowed to take pictures before the service (without flash). Here's the interior of the chapel with from my seat right in front of the altar at the head of the chapel:
the chapel before the service
the candles roughly at head-level between the organ and I are in the choir stalls
The festival opened with an organ introit to 'Once in Royal David's City.' The introit ended and the chapel was filled with silence and palpable anticipation for 5... 10... 15 seconds. A single, silvery voice broke the quiet with the first verse of the carol.
For me, it was the interplay of the space and lighting and the songs of hope sung by the fantastic 30-voice choir of silence that made the festival so much more than the radio broadcast I'd heard in the past. The sun sets here near 4pm these days, which meant that the chapel got darker and darker throughout the festival, which goes roughly from 3-5pm.
My favorite carol of the festival was a Latin text, sung to the Holst melody I know from "On This Day Earth Shall Ring." The choir sang it just after it had gotten truly dark outside. It felt so hopeful and jubilant.
I can see why locals make this service an annual event. While I won't be making any special trips back to Cambridge just to hear this service, I'm really glad I went. My experience listening to live broadcasts from Kings' will never be the same.
The only way to get into the service (unless you're in with the College bigwigs) is to queue. So, Jackie and I got up early on the 24th and arrived, by foot, outside Kings' College at about 7am. The queue was already at least a hundred strong:
The queue at 7am in front of Kings' College.The Chapel is just visible behind the bright lights that mark the entrance to
the College against the dark sky. Dawn in Cambridge is just past 8am.
The queue was admitted into the college grounds at about 7:30am. We started introducing ourselves to the people around us, a highly suggested early-day activity in the purple leaflets entitled 'Information for those in the queue' that we were handed upon entering the college grounds. Breaking queue for short breaks (~20 min.) on a wait that long is expected, so knowing those around you is important.
Most of the folks around us were local. The two tennis players in front of us had a 5 mile drive to get to the city center; after stores opened around 9am, they took turns nipping out to get last minute Christmas presents at nearby department stores. A man and his adult daughter a few spots behind us were real veterans of the queue; coming to the service is has been his Christmas tradition since his teens when his father first brought him. We learned another 'tradition of the queue' from them: many old-timers take a break at noon to head to the roaring fire at the Eagle (the local pub of RAF and Watson and Crick fame), which starts serving strong drinks at noon. A Canadian man and his wife got to the queue early and then--a Christmas present from their daughter, now a Cambridge local--an undergrad showed up at 9am to hold their spot for the next 4 hours. We also chatted with a Belgian lady (wearing a fuchsia Lands End down coat) and her welsh husband, attending for their second year, and a lawyer from New Zealand practicing in London.
Several people behind us, there was a group of Chinese students (including one of my mentees from the English Language Mentoring Scheme at Churchill). They were some of the lucky few to be interviewed for NPR when Michael Barone came around close to 11 to get soundbytes from the shivering masses in the queue. (I'm pretty sure it was him; he looked familiar from the NPR recording of the Craighead-Saunders organ I attended at Christ Church in Rochester last fall)
The excitement level in line rose noticeably at about 10:30, when the choir paraded by in their top hats and purple scarves.
the first choir sighting of the dayThere was more excitement at 1pm, when an a capella group came around with rousing holiday tunes, like 'Chestnuts Roasting...' and 'Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer', and a former chorister worked his way down from the front of the line doling out Christmas cheer from a large box of chocolates.
We were finally allowed into the chapel at about 1:30. We were allowed to take pictures before the service (without flash). Here's the interior of the chapel with from my seat right in front of the altar at the head of the chapel:
the chapel before the servicethe candles roughly at head-level between the organ and I are in the choir stalls
The festival opened with an organ introit to 'Once in Royal David's City.' The introit ended and the chapel was filled with silence and palpable anticipation for 5... 10... 15 seconds. A single, silvery voice broke the quiet with the first verse of the carol.
For me, it was the interplay of the space and lighting and the songs of hope sung by the fantastic 30-voice choir of silence that made the festival so much more than the radio broadcast I'd heard in the past. The sun sets here near 4pm these days, which meant that the chapel got darker and darker throughout the festival, which goes roughly from 3-5pm.
My favorite carol of the festival was a Latin text, sung to the Holst melody I know from "On This Day Earth Shall Ring." The choir sang it just after it had gotten truly dark outside. It felt so hopeful and jubilant.
I can see why locals make this service an annual event. While I won't be making any special trips back to Cambridge just to hear this service, I'm really glad I went. My experience listening to live broadcasts from Kings' will never be the same.
23 December 2009
Nine Lessons and Carols
I've been remiss about blogging in the last few weeks, something I hope to correct with a series of backdated posts over the next week or so. But, for the time being, I have an invitation for you:
If you are in the US and find yourself needing a track for tomorrow, the 24th of December, turn on your local NPR station at 10am, when many of the stations (in collaboration with American Public Media) will be broadcasting live from the Chapel at Kings' College here in Cambridge. With any luck (we'll be queuing for seats 5 hours before the service), I'll be there in the chapel and you may even pick up my voice in the congregational hymns!
NPR stations WXXI (Rochester, NY), WQXI (New York, NY), WHYY (Philadelphia, PA) and WITF (Harrisburg, PA) will definitely be broadcasting; I've checked.
Kings' College Service website: http://www.kings.cam.ac.uk/events/chapel-services/nine-lessons.html
American Public Media website: http://americanpublicmedia.publicradio.org/programs/festival/
BBC Radio 3 will also be broadcasting; they are on air in the UK and online at http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/classical/index.shtml
If you are in the US and find yourself needing a track for tomorrow, the 24th of December, turn on your local NPR station at 10am, when many of the stations (in collaboration with American Public Media) will be broadcasting live from the Chapel at Kings' College here in Cambridge. With any luck (we'll be queuing for seats 5 hours before the service), I'll be there in the chapel and you may even pick up my voice in the congregational hymns!
NPR stations WXXI (Rochester, NY), WQXI (New York, NY), WHYY (Philadelphia, PA) and WITF (Harrisburg, PA) will definitely be broadcasting; I've checked.
Kings' College Service website: http://www.kings.cam.ac.uk/events/chapel-services/nine-lessons.html
American Public Media website: http://americanpublicmedia.publicradio.org/programs/festival/
BBC Radio 3 will also be broadcasting; they are on air in the UK and online at http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/classical/index.shtml
15 December 2009
robyn hode in scherewode stod
According to Wikipedia, 'robyn hode in scherewode stod' is the first literary reference (in the 15th century) to Robin Hood's presence in Sherwood Forest. In popular tellings, Robin Hood was a savior of the serfs and stole from the rich (to the annoyance of the villainous Sheriff of Nottingham) to give the poor serfs their due. Now, he is a tourist attraction for Nottingham and Sherwood Forest, areas that my tour guide correctly notes are not particularly well set up for tourists, especially not those without cars, because attractions are widely spaced.
Nonetheless, I made my own journey to Robin Hood's stomping grounds--Nottingham--in the middle of December. Thankfully, I was not traveling to to find the aforementioned Robin. Rather, I went to Nottingham for a three day winter school hosted at the University of Nottingham where I sought to be a bit like Robin and learn ('take') as much as I could from our lecturers, new faculty at Nottingham and Birmingham.
While I won't dwell on the serious lectures, the lab tours and most of the conference activities, it's worth mentioning (at least in passing) our opening lecture entitled 'the Physics of Play.' What better way to start a conference than by giving physicists toys to play with? Prof. Ted Forgan started the conference out with questions about falling slinkies, bouncy balls (marketed as AstroBlasters), spinning magnetic tops, a magnetic Newton's Cradle, a Harry Potter magic wand, levitating graphite and more. After the talk, the open invitation to play left the conference organizers in the awkward position of taking away our toys so that we would eat dinner before it got cold!
When the lectures were over on Tuesday, Henrik (my office mate) and I spent a bit of time taking in Nottingham's Christmas Market before heading back to Cambridge. We finished the day in a typical Robin Hood way--with a drink.
Hendrik, my office mate at Cambridge, enjoying his first Glühwein
of the Christmas season in the market square in Nottingham
Nonetheless, I made my own journey to Robin Hood's stomping grounds--Nottingham--in the middle of December. Thankfully, I was not traveling to to find the aforementioned Robin. Rather, I went to Nottingham for a three day winter school hosted at the University of Nottingham where I sought to be a bit like Robin and learn ('take') as much as I could from our lecturers, new faculty at Nottingham and Birmingham.
While I won't dwell on the serious lectures, the lab tours and most of the conference activities, it's worth mentioning (at least in passing) our opening lecture entitled 'the Physics of Play.' What better way to start a conference than by giving physicists toys to play with? Prof. Ted Forgan started the conference out with questions about falling slinkies, bouncy balls (marketed as AstroBlasters), spinning magnetic tops, a magnetic Newton's Cradle, a Harry Potter magic wand, levitating graphite and more. After the talk, the open invitation to play left the conference organizers in the awkward position of taking away our toys so that we would eat dinner before it got cold!
When the lectures were over on Tuesday, Henrik (my office mate) and I spent a bit of time taking in Nottingham's Christmas Market before heading back to Cambridge. We finished the day in a typical Robin Hood way--with a drink.
Hendrik, my office mate at Cambridge, enjoying his first Glühweinof the Christmas season in the market square in Nottingham
13 December 2009
My London Play Festival
On Saturday, 12 December, Jackie and I took on London for a one-day 'play festival' of sorts: we each chose a theatrical production and we spent the day bopping between plays and seasonal snacks.
Back in September I wrote that one of my cultural exploration 'must-do's was to go see a pantomime, a British holiday entertainment that is nigh impossible to describe to someone who hasn't experienced it (here's one try from a recent New York Times: Christmas Foolery).
So, no surprise: the first play of the day--my choice--was a panto, the Theatre Royal Stratford East's production of Aladdin.
the entry hall of the Theatre Royal before the doors opened
The doors opened just minutes before the production was scheduled to begin. We shortly understood why; there was entertainment even before we sat down. Two characters from the play reved up audience participation, with birthday wishes (we sang to at least two people), jokes, audience halves battling to sing 'She'll be comin' round the mountain' the loudest, and the start of a hunt for a prince for the princess Jasmine among the audience members.
Then Aladdin started. The scene opened on Abanazar, searching in the sands of Egypt with a metal detector for--what else--the ring of power. When he found it with the audience's help, his true colors were revealed. 'We're splitting it 50/50" he retorted to a complaining audience. "You get the hole in the middle."
The show continued with a mostly-open fourth wall, with the audience encouraged to hiss and boo Abanazar, catch flying candy as one of the minor characters shares her end-of-term loot, cheer on Aladdin after he falls in love (in an extremely cheesy dance number) when he exchanges glances with Jasmine, sing to make Aladdin's carpet fly and even join the cast on stage--either as Dad turned princely suitor for Jasmine or to audition with Ma Twanky (Aladdin's mother, played by an actor in drag) as a replacement for the missing Aladdin.
Intermission, too, was intriguing. The 'not just a play, it's a party' atmosphere was evident then, with ice cream sold in the aisles and children convincing parents to deck them out in shiny crowns and glow sticks for sale in the foyer.
On the whole, the production was, admittedly, aimed a bit young for us. There were times I felt like I was at a live performance of Sesame Street rather than this production I had chosen (out of my own volition) to attend. But it was an experience, nonetheless!
From the Theatre Royal, Jackie and I headed to Hyde Park, where London's German Christmas Market was set up. We made dinner of bratwurst, mulled cider and candied nuts, which we ate as we wandered around the booths (and the rides) at the fair. One favorite memory was a singing moose-head, mounted above one of the food vendors near the entrance. He sang Christmas carols in three languages and warned passers-by "don't drink too much."
bratwurst
Trafalgar Square all decked out for Christmas
After seeing what the market had to offer, we took the tube to Trafalgar square and stopped to take a look (and hear some carols) before heading to the Adelphi Theatre and our next (and last) performance, Christmas with the Rat Pack.
The performance was set up as a recreation of the type of variety show that Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr. (members of 'the Rat Pack') might have performed together at the Sands Hotel. The musicians--taking the roles of Frank, Dean and Sammy--crooned some of their top hits interspersed with banter about Dean's drinking, the three beautiful backup singers and the holiday season. My favorites were in the second half, when we had "Hey There" (which I know from playing pit for the Pajama Game) and "Trailer for Sale or Rent."
The most laughable thing about the performance, however, was that it borrowed elements of the panto we had seen earlier. The backup singers threw candy into the audience at one point, there was audience participation (with the requisite 'it's behind you' moment) when Sammy snuck up on Frank, the ushers sold posh ice cream in the aisles at intermission and Sammy came on stage--albeit briefly--in drag. I guess, here in England, a Christmas show isn't a Christmas show without some elements of panto thrown in!
Back in September I wrote that one of my cultural exploration 'must-do's was to go see a pantomime, a British holiday entertainment that is nigh impossible to describe to someone who hasn't experienced it (here's one try from a recent New York Times: Christmas Foolery).
So, no surprise: the first play of the day--my choice--was a panto, the Theatre Royal Stratford East's production of Aladdin.
the entry hall of the Theatre Royal before the doors openedThe doors opened just minutes before the production was scheduled to begin. We shortly understood why; there was entertainment even before we sat down. Two characters from the play reved up audience participation, with birthday wishes (we sang to at least two people), jokes, audience halves battling to sing 'She'll be comin' round the mountain' the loudest, and the start of a hunt for a prince for the princess Jasmine among the audience members.
Then Aladdin started. The scene opened on Abanazar, searching in the sands of Egypt with a metal detector for--what else--the ring of power. When he found it with the audience's help, his true colors were revealed. 'We're splitting it 50/50" he retorted to a complaining audience. "You get the hole in the middle."
The show continued with a mostly-open fourth wall, with the audience encouraged to hiss and boo Abanazar, catch flying candy as one of the minor characters shares her end-of-term loot, cheer on Aladdin after he falls in love (in an extremely cheesy dance number) when he exchanges glances with Jasmine, sing to make Aladdin's carpet fly and even join the cast on stage--either as Dad turned princely suitor for Jasmine or to audition with Ma Twanky (Aladdin's mother, played by an actor in drag) as a replacement for the missing Aladdin.
Intermission, too, was intriguing. The 'not just a play, it's a party' atmosphere was evident then, with ice cream sold in the aisles and children convincing parents to deck them out in shiny crowns and glow sticks for sale in the foyer.
On the whole, the production was, admittedly, aimed a bit young for us. There were times I felt like I was at a live performance of Sesame Street rather than this production I had chosen (out of my own volition) to attend. But it was an experience, nonetheless!
From the Theatre Royal, Jackie and I headed to Hyde Park, where London's German Christmas Market was set up. We made dinner of bratwurst, mulled cider and candied nuts, which we ate as we wandered around the booths (and the rides) at the fair. One favorite memory was a singing moose-head, mounted above one of the food vendors near the entrance. He sang Christmas carols in three languages and warned passers-by "don't drink too much."
bratwurst
Trafalgar Square all decked out for ChristmasAfter seeing what the market had to offer, we took the tube to Trafalgar square and stopped to take a look (and hear some carols) before heading to the Adelphi Theatre and our next (and last) performance, Christmas with the Rat Pack.
The performance was set up as a recreation of the type of variety show that Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr. (members of 'the Rat Pack') might have performed together at the Sands Hotel. The musicians--taking the roles of Frank, Dean and Sammy--crooned some of their top hits interspersed with banter about Dean's drinking, the three beautiful backup singers and the holiday season. My favorites were in the second half, when we had "Hey There" (which I know from playing pit for the Pajama Game) and "Trailer for Sale or Rent."
The most laughable thing about the performance, however, was that it borrowed elements of the panto we had seen earlier. The backup singers threw candy into the audience at one point, there was audience participation (with the requisite 'it's behind you' moment) when Sammy snuck up on Frank, the ushers sold posh ice cream in the aisles at intermission and Sammy came on stage--albeit briefly--in drag. I guess, here in England, a Christmas show isn't a Christmas show without some elements of panto thrown in!
05 December 2009
Haberdashery
If there's one thing the Brits love at parties, it is dressing up. I've enjoyed seeing the parade of costumes for the (primarily) undergraduate themed discos ('pavs') every week at Churchill.
This weekend, I tried my hand at costuming in preparation for a 1920s-themed night at college. Saturday morning, Jackie and I headed into town to find hats. We had fun browsing the racks at charity shops until we found personal fits. Jackie's hat was a cute tan brimmed hat we found in a shop supporting heart disease research; mine was a fuzzy violet cap that fits tight over my head at Cancer Research UK. After we got back, I tried my hand at haberdashery to dress up my look with some unconventional materials. I was quite pleased with the results.
the hat
This weekend, I tried my hand at costuming in preparation for a 1920s-themed night at college. Saturday morning, Jackie and I headed into town to find hats. We had fun browsing the racks at charity shops until we found personal fits. Jackie's hat was a cute tan brimmed hat we found in a shop supporting heart disease research; mine was a fuzzy violet cap that fits tight over my head at Cancer Research UK. After we got back, I tried my hand at haberdashery to dress up my look with some unconventional materials. I was quite pleased with the results.
the hat
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