LP XXVI--Central Methodist, Music, Plays

I apologize for my blogging delinquency. When Clairissa and Joel arrived, we took an out of town trip and had a great but exhausting experience. Upon our return to London, I realized I was behind on grading and class preparation. I think things are back to normal (whatever that means) and I can get back on my regimen of essays about London.

In a short period of time, the three Tuckers (Rob, Clairissa, and Joel) have enjoyed Lion King, the London Philharmonic, the British Museum, the Victoria and Albert Museum, St. Paul's Cathedral, a play, and lots of great food. Sunday morning we walked to Russell Square station, grabbed the Piccadilly line, changed to the Westminster line at Green Park and walked to Methodist Central Hall Westminster. Completed in 1911 as a way to honor the centenary of Charles Wesley's death, Methodist Central Hall is a large, beautiful church located across from Westminster Abbey. Walking upstairs to Central Hall we were stunned by the beautiful sanctuary that included a large pipe organ, carpet on the floor, free standing soft chairs, screens, and a bold sound system.


Immediately predicting a type of informal, social-oriented service with a nice juxtapositioning of old and new, we sat down near the back. The hour and half long service included a lengthy baptism, a long series of announcements, extended private and public prayers, and a mixture of hymns and choruses. My favorite moment occurred at the end of the service when we sang All Hail the Power with the grand pipe organ. In the middle we sang How Great Is Our God with an excellent guitar player/singer. The hyper-talent of the pianist/organist was demonstrated in his piano improvisations and his unparalleled organ playing. We later learned it was his last Sunday before going on the road playing and leading Phantom of the Opera. The warm, caring message matched the informal and rather emotion-based music.

Following the service and a nice traditional carvery of roast beef, we walked to Southbank to hear the London Philharmonic perform Hindemith, Sibelius Violin Concerto, and Rachmaninoff Dance Suite. With the Sibelius being one of my favorite works in all art music repertoire, I was entranced with the performance. Wonderful playing by the orchestra with the marvelous soloist taking center stage. In spite of my trained, critical ear, I was unable to find any mistakes in the virtually flawless performance. In addition, we had the fortune to sit behind the orchestra where we experienced the facial expressions and body language of the remarkable conductor. Great concert in all respects.

Last night we left Joel in the room and went with the group to a play called "Tis a Pity She's a W....". Published in 1633, this moral tragedy has been steeped in controversy since its first publication. The uncomfortable subject matter deals with the tragic results of incest and promiscuity. This particular performance retained the original language of the play but included contemporary music and visual idioms. We were treated to great acting, drama, sets, lighting, and sound but also exposed to rather graphic violence near the end and some suggestive scenes of inappropriate relationships. We left artistically and morally convinced, if we were not already, that incest has no place in society nor in God's plan! Maybe that is yet another role of art, to remind us of the potential darkness and results of human foibles and sins.

Today will be a quick journey to Buckingham Palace, Southbanke to get some tickets for a concert, and a trip to an art museum. Tonight we experience another rock concert and tomorrow we visit the house where George Frederick Handel lived when he composed Messiah. London is a wonderful place to be and made even better with my family by my side.

LP XXV--Tate Modern, Rachmaninoff

The students are on a four-day break and many have taken a trip to Ireland to see the country. Trying to stay caught up with grading essays and preparing for classes, I also decided to seek out new places in London. Curious about where people shop for clothes or household items, I asked about a location. The place for inexpensive clothes is called Primark and the place for household items is called ASDA. A quick visit to Primark revealed a large department store doing high volume sales with discounts. I bought some shoes and after standing in the queue, I handed the shoes to the clerk and asked him if he were having a good day.

He looked at me in shock and paused before saying with a hesitant smile that yes he was having a good day. My question was highly unusual in a city of 12 million people and little meaningful contact with strangers. I enjoy the innocuous question and have yet to receive anything but a positive reaction from a worker. Seems to me that regardless of where you are, a smile and a friendly comment goes a long way for people. I left the store smiling at his reaction and decided to find ASDA.

A little research and I figured out which bus would get me close. The 30 minute trip took me to South London in a residential area filled with very nice grocery stores, a hardware store, a large McDonalds and ASDA. The spacious London version of Walmart was one of the most pleasant shopping experiences I have had here with reasonable prices and helpful workers. I then treated myself to some hotcakes and sausage at the neighboring McDonalds. Back on the bus and headed toward the Tate Modern art museum.

A converted plant, the Tate Modern is one of the most progressive art museums in London. Awkward shaped with many staircases, an escalator, hidden rooms, odd shaped hallways, Tate Modern is an adventure in progressive, creative artistic thinking. Each room contains a set of curious, beautiful, ugly, original, and vastly fascinating artwork. The difficulties of navigating through the museum add to the excitement and energy found in each room. Film, photography, oils, installation, sculpture, pencil, charcoal, ceramics, and every other type of visual art can be found in this amazing institution. Physically and emotionally exhausted from the experience, I crossed the Thames, got on a bus and headed home to get ready for the Rachmaninoff concert.



What a concert! The London Philharmonic Orchestra performed the Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2 and the Symphony No. 2. It was all in the Royal Festival Hall with every one of its 2900 seats occupied. The acoustics were incredible and the orchestra was the finest in my experience. With precision and expression of the highest in professionalism and musicianship, the concert was breathtaking from the beginning to the end with the 3rd movement of the symphony as the highlight. Certainly the finest concert in memory, it was an experience I will treasure forever. Rich in beauty, personal in scope, and emotional in content, every note and every phrase contained a musical magic for the audience. The lengthy applause at the end which garnered an encore, gave testament to the power of the concert for everyone present.

LP XXIV--Not Quite, but Almost

Margaret Thatcher remains a perplexing enigma and controversial figure in London. When I get an opportunity to have a conversation with a Londoner, I try to steer the subject toward the person's thoughts about the conservative leadership that took place during her time as Prime Minister. Nearly everybody has a strong opinion ranging from "dictator" to "brilliant" to "greatest figure in our history" to "horrible woman, almost destroyed England".

I enjoy walking the streets of London, stopping in the shops, looking around, drinking some coffee, and watching the people. Shopping is a joyful experience of simply looking without worrying about a salesperson trying to entice me to buy the item. It is illegal for shop owners to use pressure to the buyer, and if it happens, buyers are encouraged to contact the police and make a report. As a consumer, I love this law and feel completely at ease to buy or not to buy (Hamlet?) at will. As an American, how often have we felt the discomfort and even guilt at shopping with no intention to purchase? Are we, as consumers in the United States, misleading the owners and the salesperson with our deception? Perhaps so. But in a strange sort of way, I also feel a little unimportant without the attention and pressure in a store. I enjoy the anonymity of shopping completely at ease, but I, ironically, miss being valued by the salesperson.

For a Londoner who prefers the status quo, the amazing public transportation system, the free museums, the non-stop cultural experiences, the emphases on fine arts, and the amazing world of royalty, cathedrals, heritage, and knowledge, Margaret Thatcher is the enemy due to her policies of encouraging independence and individual development. An acquaintance told me that she nearly destroyed the country through competitiveness and lack of respect for unions and for the system. He said he is contented and enjoys his life and has no need for anything more.

I am glad that England has a no tolerance policy for discrimination, for bigotry, for harsh judgment against a person for his or her race, religion, creed, or any number of complexities that form the human being. With this idea, everyone is equal and safe without any fear of ugliness or rude behavior or discrimination for being different. People respect and follow the laws and recognize the penalty for breaking them. It makes for a pleasant social world and protection for all kinds of people.

Under Marget Thatcher and the Conservative government the people were encouraged to strive for more, to work hard, to be entrepreneurial, to seek out new ways to help yourself and your family. As one bus driver said to me, "When she was Prime Minister, I had a chance to improve, to grow, to become rich. But that chance is almost gone now." Conservative government utilizes policy and decentralizes power in order to empower the people, to give them tools that will allow them to reach beyond their immediate world and grow to new heights. But the process is painful, and it implies a level of discontent that may or may not exist.

In the United States, I get weary of the pushy salespeople, I get tired of the constant pressure from so many sources, I am sick of the bigotry, the discrimination, the ugliness, and the vying for power that occurs so often by so many. And yet, maybe to an extent, perhaps sadly or perhaps a byproduct of our culture, America does provide opportunity for advancement. It makes for a difficult world, a world with limited fine arts, without supported museums, without the safety of no pressuring salespeople, and a world that continues to discriminate in spite of the constant legislation against it. Sometimes it is a world, not just a winter, of discontent. But maybe ours is a world for the frontier mentality of building a new cabin and planting crops for the future, a world for the spirit of human growth and finding your own pathway.

Today in London I visited Notting Hill to see the location of the film by the same name. Hungry, I stopped in a bakery and was immediately excited to see a large loaf of San Francisco Sourdough bread. When a lady came over to help me, I pointed to the bread that I wanted and she quizzically looked at it and mentioned it was more sour than most breads. But I said I was born in San Francisco and it sounded good to me. She smiled, sliced the loaf and sent me on my way. Making my way home on the bus and then the tube, I ate the loaf with zeal. With a great deal of discipline, I did not eat the entire San Francisco Sourdough bread, but I came pretty close. Politics aside, and I continue to maintain that balance between conservative and liberal is probably the best approach, I sure do like the bread in London especially when it is titled for a city in the United States where I was born.

LP XXIII--Bloomsbury Baptist, Snow Patrol

In spite of the misery of the cold night and no shower, with a great degree of interest we headed to Bloomsbury Baptist Church for Sunday morning worship. The large church is a 10 minute walk for us, is located near the British Museum, and is surrounded by the traditional taverns, restaurants, and businesses. In my forward Texas manner, I arrived early hoping to join the choir during the service.

Surprised by the extensive crowd outside the church, I walked to the front doors and found them locked. A nice gentleman glanced at me, let me inside, and informed me that many of the homeless were lined up to get tickets for the free lunch offered to 25 people after the service. I quickly realized two things: 1) I did not look homeless, and 2) I would not get a free lunch! When the man then asked me why I was so early, I sheepishly mentioned that I knew a little about music and would enjoy singing in the choir if I were allowed to do so. He brightened and said yes and introduced me to the choir director/organist.

I was ushered in and gathered around the piano for a rehearsal of the Introit and an anthem. The Introit was familiar, The God of Abraham Praise, but the anthem was new to me. In fact, all the hymns were unfamiliar and had a type of high church quality to them. Singable melodies with great texts and musical complexities in the accompaniments gave the music global quality with an artistic timelessness. The lack of a formal music minister, no instruments other than an organ, and extensive corporate readings and prayers made the service feel rather formal and Anglican. Yet the message emphasized social problems, Christian service and responsibility, and the role of directed emotions in dealing with immediate issues. At the conclusion of the service, many of us offered prayer concerns, some personal and others external, giving the service a kind of hybrid Methodist, Baptist, Anglican mix. In a way it felt like a classic Baptist church drawn from an older tradition. It was quite meaningful and reminded all of us to avoid the trappings of selfish motivations in our faith and, instead, to apply God's teachings in the world around us.

Knowing that an important experience in the Rock and Roll class I am teaching is to attend an actual Rock concert, it was with some personal misgivings that I encouraged and then required all in the class to go hear Snow Patrol. In James Michener's The Drifters, a marvelous tale of teenage rebellion, an adult works to understand the music of a younger generation. While at first the environment, the bass thump, the screaming, and the roar of guitars and drums felt painful, dark, confusing, and incoherent, after a time the narrator shifted and began to get it. He began to relate to the sounds, he began to feel the music, and he found the pleasure in the experience. Rather than approaching it with criticism, he suddenly understood the appeal and in the process discovered a part of himself that could express without fear of reprisal.

With this thought in mind, we jumped on a bus for the hour long trip to the amazing facility known as the 02 Arena. The 02 is a modern area with restaurants, shopping, technical marvels, The British Music Experience Museum, and the Arena. The dome-shaped building holds over 23,000 people and has been the host of sporting events and musical concerts for the last several years.


Snow Patrol, in existence for 17 years, from Ireland, is considered an alternative rock band known for the song "Chasing Cars" and "Just Say Yes." I personally enjoyed the musical content of "Crack the Shutters" and the great song "Run". The crowd of over 20,000 included all ages with nearly 10,000 of those people standing on the floor. A little concerned I would be one of the older people in the crowd, it was with great comfort that I saw many older mature ladies and gentlemen enjoying themselves at the concert. Maybe there was some hope for me after all!

Without excessive theatrics, but using solid guitar technique and full vocal range, Snow Patrol kept us entertained with pure Rock and Roll music. The incredible sound system coupled with a high energy and progressive light show enhanced the solid musical production. Nothing was extreme but it was all well-done and full of vigor from beginning to end.

Not necessarily in my training sphere as a classical musician, I must admit to enjoying myself the entire concert. I found that fun zone and I understood the appeal and, like the character in the Michener story, I relaxed and had a great time. Moving around to the beat and joining my new concert friends around me, I felt the music inside me as it generated energy throughout my being. In short, it was a blast! I was also stunned by the masses as they sang along on every song, clapped their hands, jumped around, and expressed themselves freely within the expected social constraints. I saw no criminal activity, nothing rude, and nothing out of the ordinary except for over 20,000 people having fun.

LP XXII--Close but O So Far

Walking the footsteps of Jane Austen after visiting the shop, we encountered an unusual character dressed in an old gray coat, frilled shirt, boots, cane, and a top hat. With his long, haggard looking white side-burns and a wild eye, I was momentarily convinced that Charles Dickens had returned to say something to me. Abruptly asking him such, he quickly said he was not Charles Dickens yet he could be Martin Chuzzlewit from the book of the same name. After a strange almost incoherent conversation due to his heavy cockney accent, I revealed my Texas home. Jumping forward, he changed accents and became a Tennessee Southern fighter in the Civil War. Looking carefully at his jacket, I saw the CSA button (Confederate States of America) and we dived into a Civil War song together filled with "hurrahs" and marching footsteps. It was all very fun and terribly strange to find a man in Bath, UK who could be British and American at the drop of a note!


We were in Bath and had just completed a tour of the beautiful Abbey where over 4,000 people were buried. The organ was huge and the architecture magnificent with its multiple archways, chapels, and stunning nave built initially in 1499 by Oliver King who dreamed of angels descending on ladders to the Abbey.


Quite a structure and still used for services, the Cathedral stands as a center point in this charming city.

Walking about the town and seeing the apartment complex owned by John Cleese and then seeing a beautiful circus (circular townhomes around a park) where Nicholas Cage once lived, we made our way toward the famous Roman Baths built between 60-70 AD and continued development for 300 years. With great amazement at the history of the area and smiling over the artifacts that revealed a problem with theft of various items as revealed by a series of harsh curses to the thieves (not sure why anyone would ever want to steal after reading these curses), I began to imagine life as a Roman leader and, sadly, a Roman slave. An aggressive but yet ironically thoughtful society, the baths served as a natural utopia for Roman leaders and cultural development. The art is beautiful, the style impressive, the rooms organized, and the system advanced for the time period. The hot water served as a respite from the cold and as a gift from the gods to encourage cleanliness and as a fountain of youth for the Romans.

But it was not to serve as anything for us except as a reminder of our own plight, a result of not having any hot water in our place of residence. No showers for any of us in the morning and all of us now staring at water which was not to be used. Hot water for bathing, but completely unavailable to us. So we stared and we considered our situation, desperate to dive in, wanting to give in to the base need for cleanliness; but wisely using restraint against our inclinations, we resisted the urge and left the Roman Baths full of thoughts of warm water, of history, and our needs for a shower. The water was close and tempting but remained out of reach.

Home to the cold, to the lack of hot water. Yet we know it will be fixed and we will soon have hot water again and maybe, just maybe, we will be a little more appreciative of our modern world, of the conveniences we often take for granted. But mostly we will likely look better (although I must admit that my hair really does look the same with or without a shower!) and certainly our odors will be more acceptable.

LP XXI--Jazz and The Pianist

The crypt next door to St. Martin in the Fields was converted into a cafe and dining hall and now is host to a variety of musical events including the famed jazz series on Wednesday nights. Bundling up against the chill, we got on a bus to Trafalgar Square for Jazz in the Crypt. Grabbing some food and snacks, we settled down with our chairs on the inscribed stones of people buried beneath us and enjoyed the jazz. Not exactly jazz, the band included a keyboard, bass, trombone, saxophone, guitar, and a blues singer. With a nice blend of funk, blues, soul, rock, pop, and jazz improvisation, the Delta Boys were obviously a professional, experienced group. Tight, complex rhythmic patterns, solid goal direction, and never a shaky moment gave the audience the kind of fun and entertaining experience they sought.

Looking around the room, and in spite of the large columns, and potentially creepy environment, everyone was moving to the music, and we even had some dancing happening. It made for a relaxed evening of fusion jazz with some hard driving moments, some soul feeling, and quite a lot of blues finding its way into the mix. Leaving the bodies behind, we returned on the bus filled with thoughts of the diversity of music in a city the size of London.

Relaxing a bit this morning, I got a cup of coffee, gave some laundry to be washed and folded (but I did not know that folded meant wadded up in the bag), went for a long walk, and returned invigorated by the chill in the air and sounds of people walking, cars going by, and buses working to navigate the busy streets. A delicious lunch of fish, chips, and mashed peas, and I got ready to take the Music Appreciation class to a piano recital.



We headed out for the 15 minute walk to the church called St. Pancras Parish Church and walked in about 2 minutes before the performance began. Shuann Chai entered the nave, walked over to the piano and began telling us about the recital. She explained a little about Robert Schumann, his wife Clara Weick Schumann, and Frederic Chopin. Telling us about the music, about their relationship and about Robert's difficulties with mental illness, she provided insights into the music and prepared us for the performance. She then began and we quickly recognized her remarkable abilities.

Every note, every phrase, and every rhythm was flawless but was surpassed by her beautiful expressive playing with great attention to balance, to shape, to dynamics, and to the joyous intricacies of music. Her playing was magnificent in all respects, leaving us wanting to hear more and reminding us of the pleasure of early Romantic piano music. Masterful performing, we left in awe over hearing one of the great pianists of our time.
http://www.shuannchai.com/

LP XX--Dark and Dingy Theatre, contrasted by the beautiful Mosque

A long trip on the tube requiring changing lines brought us to Southwark, sometimes known as theatre row due to having several theatres of various shapes and sizes in the area. In addition, there are two large boxing centers resulting in many muscular joggers on the streets. The borough seems generally seedier, darker, and a little more communally closed than other areas of London, as though an outsider has no business visiting unless he boxes and enjoys the darker side of theatre.

We walked towards Union Theatre, nearly missing it due to the small sign, and realized the location was under a bridge with a train overhead. We waited with the other audience members until we were allowed to enter the theatre of 60 seats and no real stage. The seats were small, uncomfortable, awkward and close together. Each movement resulted in a squeak of some kind and we were often afraid to move lest we disturb those around us. The place was dirty and creepy in many ways and the sound of train continued intermittently throughout the performance. As I looked around, however, I noticed every seat filled and most people dressed very nicely in suits and dresses.

When the play called King John began, most of us were not sure of the plot not could we understand the Shakespearean language being used. It made for a difficult guessing situation that had to be done based on the actions and expressions of the players as they dramatically portrayed in character. Yet as the play progressed, we began to follow the story and to get caught up in the drama, the fear, the anguish, and even the comedic moments which were few but pointed. Minimal sets, incredible acting, intense moments, and sadness pervaded the play and by the end we were both relieved and strangely inspired by the events. King John died, the countries survived, the illegitimate son received his due, the mother got her revenge, and all were changed from the emotional drama.



After some odd dreams about Kings and small, dark Theatres, we got up early for a trip to the Mosque. The wonderful and large facility contains many rooms for education, artifacts, pictures, and a beautiful prayer center. We saw some original Quran documents, models of the original Mosque, and learned the required pillars of the faith. We learned about the history, the practice, the devotion, the descriptions of languages, the commonality with Christianity, and the differences. We also witnessed a steady stream of people coming in to pray. It was a vastly educational experience and one that I prize and will continue to examine as I learn. Confident in my faith, in my Christianity, and in my world-view, I am also happy to learn other systems, to respect differences, and to discover new ideas.

LP XIX--Children and Curiosity

Our careful study and guided tour of Westminster Abbey, a tour that included chapels, rooms, walls, corners, and floors, was often supplemented by groups of children being guided by their own teachers intent to explore the monuments, tributes, windows, and caskets that are situated throughout the magnificent structure. Not that the children were ill-behaved, they were just in plenitude regardless of where we went. Such has been the case in the museums as well.

The groups are never large, 15-20 children at the most, and always dressed alike in smart uniforms with matching jackets and in most cases matching backpacks. Usually the classes are gender specific although not always. My first reaction was that these classes were from private, elite schools but a little examination reveals that all schools have a type of "private" appearance to them. The schools seem to have a veiled church-like system and a curriculum entrenched in British history and culture. In addition to the appearance of equality of the children in the group, the uniforms allow teachers to find the children quickly and the children to stay with each other. Obviously this is needed due to the crowds at each location and the non-stop energy of the children I saw. Far from perfect, they each seemed like little rockets ready to take off if given the opportunity!



At each museum or in this case the Abbey where I saw children, I secretly took a moment to be one of them by staying in the background and to listen to the teacher and to share in their experience. I tried not to be obtrusive (a little difficult being a bearded, bald Texan!) but, rather, to appear nonchalant in my spying. In every case I saw the the wiggly little students listening intently to the teacher. She would move fairly quickly through her discussion and would vary the moments of knowledge with pointed questions to the group. A child would raise his hand and respond and the teacher would affirm the child. This is the Socratic method and it still works. Questions such as what do Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Robert Browning have in common? Why are they immortalized in the Abbey?

In the art museum, the small group of students were learning about why the artist painted the scene with certain colors and with particular emphases. At the British Museum, children were seeing the Rosetta Stone and learning that there are different languages that exist around the world. Thinking a little more about our educational system and given that we in the United States do not have the thousand year history to discuss nor the richness of a city of over 13 million people, we still have much to offer. Yet it seems to me that after watching these children in a learning environment, their manners are generally more polite than our children. Granted that it is possible that I may be seeing the selected students allowed to attend.

And yet, no child that I saw interrupted another child talking nor interrupted an adult. When teachers are having to deal with impolite behavior, it detracts from the teaching. In addition, it causes a teacher to be hesitant to ask an open ended question, a question designed to encourage curiosity, a question to make children think, to explore an idea beyond the obvious, to spark the imagination, and to elicit a little academic competition. No, I do not believe London children have a better educational system, are better taught, nor are they more intelligent, but I do believe they somehow learn proper manners and polite behavior more thoroughly than do many of our children. Because of this quality, I have to wonder if they tend to embrace literature, the arts, science, and history earlier than do our children.

Knowledge, curiosity, and imagination are best fostered in an environment of mutual respect and a climate that allows for the freedom to think on another level. While we have many strengths including a robust teacher training program and schools that work hard to reach each student, my purpose is not to compare us to them, but rather to find ways to improve by drawing from other sources. We can learn from each other and we have, but perhaps we need to keep refining the idea that education is not to teach facts but rather to allow the facts to spark further possibilities. As Dr. Seuss says in Oh, The Places You Will Go!, "You'll be on your way up! You'll be seeing great sights! You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights."

LP XVIII--Church and Music

On this London day the ground is filled with snow, the air is cold but clear, and there is a feeling of wintry wonderment in the people. Transportation is limited today but our legs are still working for a brisk, brief walk to a nearby church. We walk to the back of St. George's Bloomsbury Anglican church but are unable to get in until we find the front steps. Built in 1731, the beautiful church uses typical archways, stonework, and a stunning wood altar as part of its architecture. Very tall with a large chandelier hanging down, the church has the kind of warm, resonant acoustics often found in stone cathedrals.

As we walk in, an energetic young man with little hair meets us at the door and tells us that the weather has prevented the organist from coming, therefore we would be singing unaccompanied. I smile at him and with a little trepidation resulting from my years of agreeing to things that I really have no business doing, I say, "I cannot play the organ, but I do play a little piano." He says "Oh, please play for us today."

We walk quickly to the grand piano in the corner, he shows me the three hymns to play and three minutes later, the service begins. I am shaking partly from the cold and mostly from the fear, but if I can serve in some small way, it is best to do so using something that I know--music. With that thinking, I thank the Lord for the honor and the opportunity to help and then I dive in praying for my fingers to work properly. The service was typically Anglican with prayers, hymns, speaking, and Communion. Far from perfect, I am adequate as a pianist and do my best. All were appreciative after the service and my heart (but not my body) warmed from the experience. Time for traditional carvery of roast beef.

A great nap after lunch and I am going for a walk in the slush. Walking by the same church, I glance over and realize a woodwind quintet is performing an afternoon recital. Quickly heading in, I sit down and listen. Outstanding ensemble with amazing technique and beautiful musical expression. They are playing the Taffanel, followed by Elliot Carter, and ending with a fun but crazy difficult piece by Paul Patterson. What a great group.

A nice light Italian dinner of peas, red peppers, mushrooms, prawns, and rice with some garlic bread and I am happy. Time to grade some papers, email some friends, and read some more Charles Dickens.

LP XVII--Beethoven, Snow, and People

Upon exiting the concert, an all Beethoven experience at St. Martin in the Fields, I walked out into a snow filled London world. The people were acting crazy as though they had never seen snow, and I suppose it is as unusual as it is in Texas. The buses were nearly shut down and everyone was walking very slowly (that's a first) and gingerly expressing fear of falling. Many were huddled together under awnings almost as though the falling snow would hurt them. Children and fathers were making snowballs and throwing them and the world was suddenly beautiful and strangely equal for all of us. Maybe snow is the great equalizer especially when I realized that Texans act the same way!

But as much as I enjoyed the lengthy walk from Trafalgar Square back to my domain with the beautiful snow falling on my shoulders and lightly crunching beneath my feet, my mind was full of the music of Beethoven. The concert was exquisite in sound, expression, technical accuracy, and overall artistry. The seats in the church are rather uncomfortable and since it is not designed as a concert hall, the visual aspects are weak. The orchestra is on the same level with the audience causing most of the people to see the conductor or soloist and an occasional player.

Without spending great time discussing the details of the performance, I do want to mention that it was not without flaws. These are, after all, human beings performing live and even professionals have their mishaps at times. In one instance, the 1st horn came in two measures early and created a harmony problem, and in another, the bassoon player simply played the wrong key signature note. A few pitch problems and an ensemble issue hither and yon reminded us that music is meant to be performed by and for the people, with all of our goodness and, yes, mistakes.

It mattered not, however, for the orchestra was simply incredible. A golden, shimmering sound filled the hall and Beethoven was given the opportunity to glow. The Violin Concerto was breath-taking and the soloist was virtually without imperfections in his delivery. Especially notable was the remarkable use of counterpoint and inside augmentation of the theme during his cadenza in the first movement. Being that the Beethoven Violin Concerto is one of my favorite works in the repertoire, I enjoyed the performance from beginning to end.

The 6th symphony, one of the earliest examples of programmatic music, is subtitled "Pastoral" and is a tribute to Beethoven's love of nature. The work is classical in sound (aside from the expected harmonic development) and contains great moments of simplistic expression and beauty. The piece has special meaning for me due to my father singing themes from the symphony while playing guitar. I can still see him in the living room strumming and singing a nice folk-like song that he told us was written by Beethoven. The lively and fun scherzo is followed by thunder and lightning depicting a violent storm which then gives way to the gentle rocking of the last movement as the sun comes out and the world brightens. Great piece and one that continues to live and breathe in today's culture of high energy, technology, and complexity.

On my way home from the concert, as I avoided slipping in the snow, and as I gazed with wonder at the falling flakes slowly but surely blanketing the London world of streets, sidewalks, and shops, I gave a moment of gratitude to God for the music of Beethoven, for the falling snow, and for my time in London.

LP XVI--Stonehenge, Salisbury, Books, Mercury

Short in plot, average in acting, a little dated in visuals, exciting in vocals, and incredible in band sound, We Will Rock You was a rocking, heart-pumping, pulsing tribute to the music of Queen and the remarkable talent of Freddie Mercury. We entered Dominion theatre, climbed the stairs to the balcony level and were treated to a pictorial history of Freddie Mercury up to his tragic end in 1991 from HIV. When the show began, we knew we were in for a fun night of Rock and Roll and it did not disappoint. We left with our ears ringing but our lives enriched from the experience, reminding me of the musical diversity of Queen and Freddie Mercury. Maybe I wanted more music and less dialog or maybe I missed the actual vocal ability and stage charisma of Freddie, or maybe I wanted the band to be on stage rather than hidden in the wings, but it was still a blast and left me filled with the joys of Rock and Roll.

Early the next morning, we headed out to the English countryside for a day trip. After a pleasant drive of nearly 2 hours, we saw it--Stonehenge. The years of hearing about it, seeing pictures, and suddenly the real thing was in front of me. We parked and got closer and Dr. Wyrick with his experience in Archaelogy, discussed the magnificent mystery of Stonehenge. We concluded with the likelihood of its being a time keeper to determine and predict seasons for planting and weather changes, based on the placement of shadows from the sun. The bold and pesante' structure serves as a reminder to us not to take for granted our scientific knowledge, our clocks, and our modern world. It has not always been so easy!



A twenty minute drive brought us to Old Sarum followed by Salibury Cathedral. The castle at Old Sarum no longer has the majestic walls of the past, but the moat is deep, the hill is imposing, and the past comes alive as we walked around imagining a world of power, of battles, and of life in Middle Ages. We went down the hill to the city for a lunch of sausage and mash followed by a quest for a good used bookstore. Walking, walking, but finding nothing of consequence, I happened to glance in a window and saw some beautiful old books. No sign on the door or anywhere but I rang the bell out of curiosity. An attractive elderly lady in her twilight years answered the door. I smiled my most charming smile and said, "Hello, I am from Texas and I love rare books. May I see your collection?" She welcomed me and the two students who were with me.

The word "books" is inadequate to describe this collection. Several thousand rare books of the highest quality I have seen or imagined, resting comfortably on shelves, side by side with their best friends of equal or greater worth, as though Kings and Queens dwelling peaceably together, satisfied with their heritage and their aura of nobility, knowing they have power but never abusing that responsibility, confident and maybe a little pride in their demeanor with an arrogance borne of their natural superiority. Beautiful books inlaid with gold, with plates, illustrations, flawless binding, most dating before the 19th century. An original Coverdale Bible from 1535, a book from 1712 on how to be a Gentlemen, books on the outdoors, books from Ireland, Scotland, and England. History, culture, refinement, monarchy all beckoned me to hold them, teasing me with ownership that was not mine to offer. Ranging from 300 pounds to 100,000 pounds, these marvelous crown jewels sit on their throne awaiting a new owner that may or may not ever be found.






Shaking from that experience, we headed toward Salisbury Cathedral where we were given the gift of beauty and history through the blessing of entering the majestic house of God. Completed in 1258, consistent in architecture, massive in height, rich in detail, and emanating spirituality in every corner, this Cathedral is certainly one of the most beautiful and original structures of its kind as well as housing the original Magna Carta. As we walked through the nave, we learned, we prayed, we listened, and we stared in awe at the arches, the engravings, the stonework, the sculptures, the columns, and the caskets. We heard the sordid tales of murder, the enchanting stories of love, and the history behind the amazing stained glass. We saw the famous Salisbury clock, and the incredibly powerful pipe organ still used each day.



As a special bonus, I learned that Edward Tucker was the organist from 1618-1629, securing my suspicion that Tuckers have always been musical and originated from Ireland and England. Proud of my heritage (in spite of some tough years of the "no goods" back in the early 20th century!), I left the Cathedral honored by my experience and thankful to God for the Cathedrals that remind us of the infinite majesty of God's truth and God's love.

LP XV--The Students

I think I'll take a break from the descriptions of life in London and the philosophical meanderings from the experiences to talk about the students in the program. We have a total of 19 students majoring in various fields including Geology, Music, Cross-Cultural Studies, English, Pre-Law, Communication, Education, Theater and other disciplines. 8 students attend the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor, 6 students attend Hardin-Simmons University, and 5 students attend Howard Payne University. We have 14 girls and 5 guys.

We have one former Marine with the rest of the students being Freshmen, Sophomores, and Juniors. While each student comes from a different family background, they all have some things in common including their Christianity and their eagerness to learn more about history, culture, and the arts. Some enjoy conversing on Charles Dickens, Shakespeare, and art while others prefer subjects such as history, music, and theatre. Of course there are the expected conversations of movies, cars, weapons, and sports, but for the most part our conversations deal primarily with our London experiences.

Some students are quiet, preferring a more reflective approach to what they see and learn while others are out-going and openly expressive about their views of the London world. Some enjoy the camera moment while others seem to avoid excessive photography. We have some who really enjoy cooking and finding creative ways to save money on food, and we have several who relish being out in London discovering new food and new adventures. Our living arrangements are adequate with a nice commons room for meetings and a small kitchen nearby.

They are all great people and are thankful for this opportunity to live in London for a semester, learning the culture, hearing about the monarchs, learning the history, experiencing the theatre, sharing in the moment and taking a life journey in the United Kingdom. Their individuality is special and unique but so is their willingness to put self aside for the collective whole. We live in the same hotel complex which is not fancy but is perfectly adequate for our needs.

We are here to learn, to enjoy, to see and to feel London in all its glory and splendor. There are five British teachers, two of which teach a required course called British History and Culture, a teacher of Art Appreciation, a Dickens literature teacher, and a theatre teacher. In addition to the British teachers, we have three American teachers. The classes are a combination of lecture and field-based experiences. In theatre class for example, the students hear about a particular play, then attend a performance. This is followed up with a discussion. All the teachers use this same approach of knowledge, experience, synthesis in all the classes.

Breaking out of my classical background, I am teaching a course called History of Rock and Roll. We have experienced the Queen show We Will Rock You, Hard Rock Cafe and memorabilia, and are later going to a Jazz concert demonstrating Rock's essentially blues history. We are also doing a London Rock and Roll tour, a British Music Experience gallery, and some additional shows and trips (including a stop at Liverpool).

In my Music Appreciation course, there is an unlimited amount of opportunities to hear great music from nearby recitals to major concerts. Great musicians are in multitude in London and our discussions cover the gamut of what music means in history and culture. A person can spend lots of money going to concerts and events or take advantage of the free museums and educational outlets available all around London.

One of the great benefits of this program is the opportunity to worship in a variety of settings and see many of the great Cathedrals that adorn the United Kingdom not only in London but also around the country. The students are very response and recognize the great opportunities they are having in this program. While all of us will likely become homesick for chicken fried steak and the Texas sky, we are also excited to be here.

LP XIV--Art and Rock

The National Gallery of London has without question some of the most stunning and beautiful artworks I have ever seen and experienced. This large institute contains the finest art in the world and currently houses the Leonardo Da Vinci exhibit. Each room was a magical presentation of great works, some by unknown artists, others by painters widely regarded as the finest of their time period. As I walked and looked and studied and experienced the art, I realized...



We walked into Hard Rock Cafe and immediately heard the BeeGees on the amazing stereo system. In the corner wall, we could see Stuart Sutcliffe's guitar. Now you may ask who is Stuart Sutcliffe? He is sometimes known as the Fifth Beatle. Part of the original group and an excellent bass player, he left to pursue a career in art but died at the age of 22. High on the wall we see Eric Clapton's guitar he gave to Hard Rock Cafe in London. In the basement is an Elton John costume and nearby is a display of the great Jimi Hendrix and his all black costume he often wore. As we ate a delicious meal, we...




that art is one of the greatest of emotional expressions of creativity. In an oil painting, the artist represents not just the natural world but also includes his/her response to the event or the setting. This causes a deeper level of emotional ownership with the work for both the artist as well as the viewer. In the eyes we see the soul, and in the body we see the heart, and in the light we see the thoughts, and in the motion we see both the future and the past. I was shaken to walk into a room and see...



heard some hard-rocking music You Give Love A Bad Name--Bon Jovi, Over My Head--Lit, Caught Up In You, .38 Special, and Crushcrushcrush, Paramore. All of it hard and heavy (maybe more than makes me comfortable, but certainly muscular rock). All around us were Gold records of Queen, Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, and David Bowie. When we finished eating we went across the street to the shop and The Vault where we saw an original song by John Lennon, touched Jimmie Page's guitar, looked at Gene Simmons' Bass, grimly stared at Kurt Cobain's guitar, looked daringly (briefly--no pun intended) at Madonna's corset and undergarments, smiled at Les Paul's guitar, saw John Lennon's jacket, and wondered about Pete Townshend's guitar (famous as The Who for smashing his guitar) being intact. We left with thoughts...




art by Van Gogh, Degas, Seurat, Rousseau, and Cezanne. But it was the room of Peter Paul Rubens that nearly engulfed me in beauty. Piece after piece of incredible strength, color, line, and emotion. Each one a story of its own and each evoking strange thoughts of a world that lives in our dreams and our subconscious. A world of shocking beauty, in some cases showing innocence destroyed, yet respecting individuality, and constantly communicating powerful emotions which are so strong as to threaten to absorb the people. The absolutely flawless oil paintings capture forever an artist's craft and ability to see beyond the obvious and into the...



of Rock and Roll's vast influence on culture. At first relegated to teenagers jumping and dancing and screaming, now Rock and Roll has permeated the lives of adults of all ages. Those who loved Rock in the 50s are now mature and often retired, but still finding meaning in the music from their day and forward. We may be getting older, but we can still Rock out in joyful expression of music that is burrowed within us. And I must say that Eric Clapton is truly an impressive figure in Rock's history with a talent for altering his sound while retaining his quality and creativity. And I must admit to liking Sting, Bon Jovi, and yes Aerosmith. Tonight we go to a Queen show called, We Will Rock You. It promises to be non-stop entertainment!





depths of life with its beauty, its fears, and its hopefulness for a better world. The National Gallery is a visual treat in all respects and I consider myself blessed for my time there. And thousands visit the Gallery for more Rubens and more Raphael and more opportunity to obviate any stress by sharing with the artists the wordless thoughts that reside deep within the scope of the human soul.