Archive for the ‘ Christianity ’ Category

As strange to us as if they had never lived


In December, I had the wonderful good fortune to play Ebenezer Scrooge in an adaptation of A Christmas Carol produced by new local theatre company Constant Lark. This was a joyous experience, and a wonderful character to explore. Although his name has entered the language as a synonym for miserliness, the true wonder of Scrooge is how he learns and grows over the course of the story. He is, in many ways, both protagonist and antagonist – we follow his growth, but experience all of the worst he has to offer and the harm he has done to those around him, and ultimately to himself.

Snow falls against a bright red background. Between the snow and the background is a silhouette of a man in a nightcap. Text - Constant Lark, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. A new adaptation by Brendan Roberts.
Constant Lark’s A Christmas Carol.

This is the second production I have done with Constant Lark, having played Prospero and Gonzalo in their debut performance of Shakespeare’s The Tempest (my first Shakespeare). They have a mission to bring theatre to new audiences, inspire a new generation and bring both classic works and new writing into the light. All good stuff as far as I’m concerned.

In A Christmas Carol, I had the strange experience of spending most of the time either pretending that I couldn’t see or hear my fellow performers (when they were narrators) or having them pretend they couldn’t see or hear me (when they were characters the Spirits were showing me). An unusual acting challenge for us all, I think, and I was so impressed with how everyone else stepped in and out of narrators and an array of beautifully drawn Dickensian people.

There were many scenes which resonated with me, but one in particular which I wanted to write about. During the section about Christmas Present, I/Scrooge argued with the Spirit. The scene featured baker’s shops, where (as I understand it) poorer people would bring their dinners to be cooked, presumably unable to afford fuel or perhaps not having an oven in their dwelling. Scrooge accused the Sprit of wanting to deny the poor their chance of a hot dinner by closing these shops every seventh day – an unfortunate effect of Sunday trading regulations. As Scrooge surprisingly points out, this day is “often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all.” Surprising because this is one of the first inklings we have that Scrooge would spare a thought for the comfort or happiness of others. In the first scenes, before any supernatural occurrences have taken place, he seems to think that the poor deserve nothing from others.

Scrooge’s point is that this is being done in the name of the Ghost of Christmas Present’s family (for surely he must be related to the one Christmas is named for). And the Spirit’s reply is fascinating:

“There are some upon this earth of yours,” returned the spirit, “who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us.”

Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, Stave Three (1843)

This seems to me to have been intended by Dickens as a rebuke to some of his peers for caring more about religion than faith, more about the law than love. And the rebuke rings true today, 180 years later. We are so capable of following rules without thinking about the consequences on others, on doing what seems right on the outside but which is rotten and uncaring on the inside. The same anger that Jesus expresses for hypocrites in the gospels (“I never knew you”, among other, even harsher words) is what is coming through here, or perhaps an echo of one of the start of one of the most-read Bible passages at weddings:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

1 Corinthians 13 v 1, NIV translation

Whether Scrooge brought the question up because he cared or because he wanted to score points against a being that was dragging him around London in his dressing gown is certainly up for interpretation, but the point of the Spirit’s reply is not. Our actions speak louder than our words – we can claim to be loving, but if what we do does not demonstrate love, why bother?

People (including me – I am pretty sure I count in the category of people) can do many things in the name of God, or any deity, or British values, or common decency, or national pride, or professional standards or whatever it may be. But if those actions and their consequences hurt others, then that is on us and nobody else. We can dress up hatred by saying it is God’s will or what is right for the country or not a situation our code of conduct covers. But it is still hatred. We can justify cruelty in the name of the national interest, but it is still cruelty. We can stay silent or look the other way or implicitly condone abuse. And no matter how we try to justify it by appeal to some other authority, it comes down to us – these are our words and our actions or inactions. Our own.

Charge my doings on myself. Not on the British government, or whatever our system of values is supposed to be. Not on the church or on God. Not on my profession or my employer. On me. When I get it wrong (which I do), it’s on me. The Spirit’s rebuke made me think about this and have made me more determined to check my motives and my actions. And I felt I needed to write it down as well.

2024
01/03
CATEGORY
Christianity
Plays
Theatre
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Saying the words


I’m gay.

Two words, very easy to type. In theory very easy to say. And yet not. 

I have known I’m gay for at least 25 years, but it has taken a very long time for me to get anywhere near to saying it openly. Until recently, I had told very few people indeed. Over the past year or so, I have tried to hint – for example, I often wear a ring with Pride stripes – but these hints have apparently been far too subtle!

A pair of trainers with rainbow stripes on them resembling the Pride flag.
The shoes I wear have come to have some level of meaning on occasion. These are less subtle than the ring!

Some people moan about others coming out: “why do they have to tell everyone?” And I get it. My sexuality makes zero difference to most people. The only folks who should be in any way affected are those who have any interest in romantic or physical intimacy with me. For the vast majority of the population, my sexual identity does not affect their life one bit. So why tell anyone? And why say it now in such a public way? I will try to explain. But warning, this will get rambling and may not actually answer the question. So feel free to bail on this post now.

The past and the present

This is not something new. It took me a long time to admit to myself that I am gay, and much longer to accept that this is not something that is wrong with me. And this meant that for a long time, telling anyone felt like a confession, an admission of some sort of failure or wrongdoing. Now, it is still oddly scary to share this truth, but as I have gradually spoken to or messaged people, it has felt like a heavy load is being lifted.

I am from the British generation that grew up under Section 28, which was in force from the time I was 10 years old until after I finished secondary education. Under this rule, local authorities (including schools) were banned from promoting homosexuality (whatever ‘promoting homosexuality’ means) and particularly prohibited from teaching the “acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship”. There was to be silence on all such matters. But the thing is, we knew this was a rule. It wasn’t as though Section 28 meant that kids didn’t know homosexuality existed. Rather, it meant that we knew we weren’t allowed to be told about it, and therefore surely it must be incredibly wrong. Can you imagine how that would make a young person who suspected that there was even a chance they might be attracted to people of the same sex feel?

Now, I see this idea coming back. Most notably in the USA, where various states are seeing a move to ban even the mention of homosexuality in schools. This is often under the guise of protecting the kids. The frankly ridiculous notion that having an awareness that gay people exist will suddenly make them gay. Knowing how Section 28 affected my generation (all of us, regardless of sexual orientation), this worries me greatly. The rapid erosion of rights of and respect for trans people which we are also seeing is even more concerning.

And then there’s religion. I grew up in a Christian home. My parents never forced me to believe or to follow, I made that choice myself in my teenage years. I don’t think I knew until I went to university that “the church” viewed homosexuality as wrong, but it was certainly made abundantly clear then. The first people I “came out” to were Christian friends at university, and that was partly because I thought this was something that needed to be fixed or somehow dealt with, perhaps to be prayed away. To their credit, the friends I told did not alter their opinion of me at all, and although I soon learned that conversion therapy existed, nobody tried to make me do it.

Much more recently, I moved from one church to another. There were many reasons for this. One was that I wanted to find somewhere that would be accepting and affirming of all, regardless of sexual or gender identity (or anything else). I am glad to say that I have found such a place. And yet… I have been going there for quite some time now, and until the last month or so, could count the number of people there who knew I am gay on one hand. I knew that there would be no judgement, no suggestion that this should be covered up or frowned upon, and yet I still did not feel able to say the words. 

I used to believe that my sexuality was something that can be changed, even something that should be changed, and I know I would find many who would agree with that position. But I don’t see things that way any longer. I know it is not a choice and view it as part of the person I am, an intrinsic part of how I am made.

Over the last year, I have started to attend a monthly Open Table service. These services are run by and for LGBTQ+ people, their loved ones and their allies, and they welcome everyone. Although I have been terrible at getting to know people there, I have found these services very helpful. And in sharing on social media that I have been attending, I made a small attempt at being more open.

I do theatre. Mostly musical theatre. In theory at least, one of the environments where gender and sexual diversity are most accepted. And yet, even in that circle, most people don’t know. If they have guessed, they certainly haven’t said anything to me. Sometimes, I wish I had a less stereotypically gay hobby (passion?), as it worries me that the stereotype puts straight men off being involved with theatre, but it gives me joy, so what does it matter? 

I am single and have been single for a long time. So does my sexuality really make any difference to my life? Yes. Yes, it does make a difference. The words I hear, the things I see, the way I feel about myself, these are all affected by my sexuality and, crucially, by others’ reactions to sexuality in general. But they are also affected by my faith, my political viewpoint, my health and so much more. The fact that I’m gay is a part of me, and a part of me I no longer want to conceal, but it is not the whole of me. No person should be defined simply by one aspect of their self. I am gay. I am a Christian. I am an actor who sings. I am a librarian. I am a storyteller. I am many other things besides.

Saying it

Does all of this start to explain why I’m speaking up now? Why I’m “coming out” in my mid 40s? Possibly not. Perhaps it can’t really be explained. Part of it is this: the world feels like it is getting a bit darker at the moment. Intolerance and hatred are rising. We see it most blatantly across the Atlantic, where laws are being enacted to clamp down on the rights of those whose gender or sexual identities don’t fit the traditional narrative. But over here in Britain, it is happening too. Newspapers, politicians and public figures seem to be emboldened to speak out against the “other”. To blame societal problems on those who don’t speak, look or act like the norm. Whether that be immigrants, transgender people or people who, like me, are gay. 

It felt that continuing to hide who I am is no longer possible. Now is the time that I need to speak up and say that I exist, that my dignity is equal to everyone else, and that those with fewer rights than me deserve to be lifted up, not beaten down. I do envy the younger generations who seem able to say these things much more easily – that they can is definitely an encouraging sign that things have moved forward, and more reason to be determined that things should not move backwards again.

I am also aware that there have been times when how I have chosen to deal with my sexuality, or rather how I have chosen not to deal with it, has hurt people. Hopefully, being “out” means I can’t do that again. And times when knowing this about me might change your understanding of things that I say.

Less nobly, keeping a secret is hard. Keeping something bottled up inside takes effort. At times, it can be exhausting. And I have realised that this is a secret that doesn’t need to be kept and a truth that doesn’t need to be bottled up. So for my own sake, I’m not keeping this hidden any longer. It’s hardly going to be the topic of every conversation I have (there are so many other things to talk about!), but it is now a fact that is out there in the light of day.

So. I’m gay. For you, this almost certainly changes nothing. For me, too, nothing changes. But saying it makes all the difference. 

Brave?

I leave you with this video cover of Sara Bareilles’ song Brave, which she wrote in response to a friend struggling to come out. It feels like I have been singing this song to myself for years now – I am finally letting “the words fall out honestly”.

2023
07/09
CATEGORY
Christianity
Ramblings
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Books of the Month – May 2012


This has been a month where I haven’t really managed to read very much, and I’m not at all sure why. But what I have read has been worth reading.

Towards the End of the Morning by Michael Frayn

Set on Fleet Street during the middle of the 20th century, this book is both highly amusing and rather sad.  It shows the newspaper industry at the end of it golden years, seen through the eyes of a few characters who work in an insignificant department, responsible for dreaming up crosswords and similarly cutting-edge parts of their publication (though they, of course, believe themselves to be dynamic journalists).  The characters are all deeply flawed, and Frayn draws them in such a way that you laugh at them, then are moved to feel sympathetic for them, even John Dyson, the pompous fool who is trying to make his name on television.  The disastrous press trip to the Persian Gulf which takes up much of the final few chapters of the book is a masterpiece of farcical writing.  An intriguing glimpse into a different time and world, this novel is decidedly worth reading.

Identity Theft by John Andrews

With the subtitle ‘Finding the missing person in you’, this is a Christian book about personal identity – both the general identity of a Christian as a child of God and individual identity.  This latter aspect is welcome, as a lot of Christian writing seems to imply that we are all turned out of the same mould and should be a homogeneous mass of identikit people.  This book sets out the reasons, both Biblical and otherwise, why this shouldn’t be the case, and encourages the readers to acknowledge both aspects of their identity.  I found the book challenging and encouraging, and have gone back to the beginning to read it again in the hope that I’ll actually remember what’s written here and live it out.

The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens

This month’s book group book (though yet again I missed book group night).  I have seen the stage musical based on the book before and caught a mixed adaptation on television recently, but had never got round to reading it.  I didn’t find it one of Dickens’ best books, to be honest, though perhaps my feelings would have been different if he had finished the story before he died.  The chief problem is that the characters do not, for the most part, feel quite so vitally alive as his characters normally do.  Some of them, particularly Mrs Crisparkle and Durdles, are beautifully described, but there is a spark missing.  The big question of the book is this – what is the mystery?  Dickens made it clear in some letters that the obvious suspect is indeed the culprit, and all the clues are laid out quite clearly (for the reader if not for any of the characters yet).  So for me the mystery is how the guilty party will be brought to justice or who the disguised detective Dick Datchery really is (my money is on Bazzard, though that is again the obvious choice).  The mystery could be unravelled if everyone sat down and talked to each other, as each person holds a vital clue, but the likelihood of getting  such different people as Rosa Budd and Princess Puffer in the same room would be rather unlikely.  Reading Dickens is never a bad thing, but there are definitely better ones out there.  Oddly, leaving the novel midway doesn’t seem hugely frustrating.

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So not the most impressive list of reads this month.  In terms of impact, Identity Theft has been my most valued read, but Towards the End of the Morning wins in terms of enjoyment.

2012
06/02
CATEGORY
Books & Comics
Christianity
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Bible in a year – on the train!


During 2012, a number of people from my church are reading through the Bible.  Each day, there are three or four chapters to read, and the idea is that with quite a number of us reading it at the same time, we will have plenty of people to share encouragements with or to ask about the confusing bits (and let’s face it, there are quite a few of those!).  There is no obligation on anyone to do it, and nobody will be frowned upon for slipping behind or doing anything differently.

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2012
01/28
CATEGORY
Christianity
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Advent


Today is Advent Sunday in the church calendar, the day when preparations for Christmas officially begin.  Of course, in the retail world, preparations for Christmas began as soon as the Hallowe’en stock was removed, or in some cases even earlier.  And other aspects of festive activity have also begun in earnest – baking of cakes, rehearsals for nativity plays and pantomimes, switching on of lights and selection of presents.  But in the church, Advent Sunday is the day when we are supposed to begin spiritual preparation, looking forward to the celebration of Christ’s birth, or rather of his incarnation.

As well as the opportunity (sadly missed this year) to get cracking with singing ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’, the start of advent means something very specific.  In my house, it means decorations!  The boxes of sparkly, shiny objects, the Christmas trees, the sack of cuddly toys with a vague Christmas theme and the bag of tinsel will not make an appearance until this day of days.  And then, the level of activity is high.  Furniture must be moved (unearthing long-forgotten dog toys in the process), lights must be strung on the plants in the front window, nativity sets must be compared and re-arranged, and tinsel must adorn every possible location.  The cellophane will be removed from this year’s edition of Carols For a Cure, and the tracks will be listened to and variously enjoyed, discussed and laughed at.  A lengthy conversation about the optimum date for viewing the Muppets Christmas Carol will ensue.  There is little that is overtly spiritual in all of this, but it is an important time for the household, a few hours to share and enjoy, a ritual which has become an essential part of the rhythm of our lives.

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2010
11/28
CATEGORY
Christianity
NaBloPoMo 2010
Ramblings
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Tree of life


I don’t often speak very directly of my faith on this blog, nor of what I get up to at church.  On some Sunday mornings, I sing with the worship band.  Sometimes I am ‘merely’ a member of the congregation.  And on other weeks, I am involved with the children, either helping with or teaching one of our Sunday school classes.  At the moment, the group I am involved with is (with the exception of me as a leader) entirely female.  Quite how the members of my church manage it, I do not know, but children seem to come in gender waves – a year or two of boys, followed by a year or two of girls.  We’re currently in the ‘girls’ part of the cycle in the crèche as well as in my group.  But that isn’t really relevant.

For the last few weeks, my group has been looking at bits of the book of Revelation.  Not my idea, and not something that happens very often in Sunday school, really.  We (or rather they, as I haven’t been there every week) haven’t been examining tribulations or battles, but some of the images from the last few chapters, which have been getting both the kids and the leaders thinking.  My task this week, one of my rare weeks of leading rather than helping, was to look at the last chapter (number 22).  As we also have preparations for the inevitable nativity play under way, I didn’t have very long, so the focus was essentially on verse 2 of the chapter.  In the King James Version (which I love for literary reasons but don’t use for my own devotions, normally, and definitely not for Sunday school), this reads :

In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

I was struck by how awesome an image this is.  A tree that is in fruit all year round.  In the context of eternity, this means a tree which never stops bearing fruit.  Whether this is different types of fruit or not, this is a beautiful picture of heaven – never-ending provision and abundance, a constant knowledge of God’s presence, care and love.  And leaves for the healing of nations – an end to every ill and wrong, whether that be physical, mental, emotional or physical.  And for everyone – the nations means the whole world, with no barrier of race or gender.   In this world, I can doubt God’s love so easily, but in the world to come, there will be no doubt.  Not ever.  What a mind-blowing thought.

2010
11/21
CATEGORY
Christianity
NaBloPoMo 2010
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“It’s like science has won.”


Last week, I was struck by a moment during the first of Torchwood’s five episodes.  Gwen Cooper, Torchwood agent, was talking to Doctor Rupesh Patanjali, someone who could potentially be brought in as a new member of their team.  His explanation of his interest in alien life was intriguing:

The past few years, suicide rates have doubled and that’s ever since the first alien.  My first case… my first… death, was a suicide.  D’you know why she did it?  ‘Cause… she’d written all these letters, been a Christian all her life, and then alien life appears.  She wrote this bit, she said “It’s like science has won.” [Gwen comments ‘Lost her faith?’] More than that.  She said she saw her place in the universe.  And it was tiny.  She died because she thought she was nothing.

Leaving aside the fact that we can’t necessarily trust what the charming Dr Patanjali was saying, as his motives in the conversation were not quite as Gwen or the audience believed, this is an intriguing statement, and I suspect it may reflect the views of the scriptwriter (for Day One, Russell T. Davies) to some extent – that the existence of alien life would terrify some, amaze others, and cause believers to lose faith and hope.  I wonder – is this true?  If alien life were to make itself known somehow, whether in peace, war or otherwise, would faith suddenly become meaningless?

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2009
07/16
CATEGORY
Christianity
Television
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Something new every day


They say that you learn something new every day. This is probably true, even if it’s only something that’s seen, read or heard in the news, but I suspect we all forget many old things each day. I sometimes wonder whether new things push specific old things out of the memory banks and whether the volume of lyrics, tunes and useless facts about musicals stored in my head will one day have a disastrous effect, as something vital such as ‘alphabetical order’ or ‘how to breathe’ falls out of my ears as yet another song goes in. Recently, in addition to everything I’ve been learning for my various performing exploits, I have learned some more unusual things, which I thought I’d share.

1 – Bad posture can have painful results.On Monday, I woke up and my neck was very cross with me. The muscles in the right hand side of it were tight and angry, meaning that I could not fully turn my head to the left, and would get twinges of sharp pain when moving suddenly or when lying down. This was probably Officer Krupke’s responsibility, as it was noted in Sunday’s rehearsal that my Krupke posture was not going to do my back and neck any favours due to the way I was holding my shoulders. Or alternatively, I may have jarred the muscles when rehearsing the scene where Krupke falls over one of the Jets. Either way, a change of Krupke posture and some appropriate gentle stretching exercises gradually righted the problem. My advice – be careful, bad posture hurts!

2 – I cannot do an Irish accent. I really can’t. Monday evening was the first script read-through of Titanic, and one of the people that was missing was the young chap who plays Jim Farrell, third class passenger on the voyage. I was asked to read in for him and although his first line was delivered in a passably Irish manner, things simply went downhill from there until you’d have been hard-pressed to tell that the poor chap was human, let alone Irish. On the positive side, it did cause minor amusement to my fellow cast members, which was increased at the nadir of my accent attempts, when a particularly atrocious sound gave me a case of the giggles and caused me to go bright red as I struggled for air. I shall stick to the various English, Scots and American accents that I actually can do in future.

3 – The sense of smell can be numbed. On Tuesday, I helped at a family fun day organised by the local churches, where I spent the best part of four hours either serving or cooking sausages which were handed out free to grateful members of the public. I love sausages, but being part of the cooking and serving of several thousand sausages may have curbed my enthusiasm slightly. After only half an hour or so, I realised that I could no longer smell the sausages that were merrily cooking on the BBQ. My nose must have had enough and simply given up.

4 – An empty glove is not a good thing to be.The wonderful Archbishop of York was a part of Tuesday’s event and gave a great message about what it means to be a Christian. He compared life without God to being a glove without a hand in it – floppy and directionless. But being filled by God is like a glove is like a glove being filled by a hand, now able to wave, shake hands, bake a cake or do the hand jive (OK, so the Archbishop didn’t actually mention doing the hand jive, but you get the idea). He was speaking of Jesus’ statement that He came so that we could have life in all its fullness, not just a little bit of life, but an awful lot of Life. It was a clear, direct and inspirational message.

5 – One of my defining qualities is agelessness. It tends to be said that I look younger than I am, and I thought the cast of West Side Story were going to prove this when one of them guessed my age as 24. Unfortunately, yesterday, one of them (who is 13 but has the cheek to look at least 16) decided to guess my age and came up with the figure of 35. Yikes. I’m 29, and will turn 30 the day before the curtain rises for our production of Titanic. There’s nothing wrong with being 35, but really… However, to a 13-year-old, surely anything past about 21 is ‘ancient’.

6 – I’m a big softie. I don’t cry at films or books, and the only things I’ve seen in the theatre that I recall making my cry are Cabaret and Blood Brothers (though Parade and Billy Elliotmust both have been close to bringing on the waterworks). However, on Friday, we reached the final scene of West Side Story in a run-through, and there I was with tears trickling down my cheeks, so that I had to nip outside and dry my eyes before we set the bows. The last couple of scenes are deeply emotional for my more serious character, Doc, but even so… I don’t normally get deeply invested in my characters and this was a run-through in a hot room in a school, with very few costumes, with a few stops and starts and with only plastic chairs as the set, so I don’t know why it got to me. It did, though, so the only conclusion must be that I’m a big softie. I’m hoping that I get over this by the time we open on Wednesday, but who knows. Perhaps I’ll be a blubbering mess all week.

So there we have it. Six things that I’ve discovered this week. What’s your ‘something new’ for the day?

2008
08/02
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Christianity
Ramblings
Theatre
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Talented youth


This week, I have been privileged to see talented young people performing in two different venues in Canterbury, and it has inspired and encouraged me.

The first was a performance of a musical by two of the local grammar schools – the Bernstein/Sondheim/Laurents masterpiece West Side Story.  I am not frequently in attendance at school shows, but this one starred a talented young guy who I have performed alongside in Kiss Me, Kate and My Fair Lady, and I wanted to support him, so turned up to the opening night along with a couple of other members of the operatic society.

From the overture onwards, I was frequently impressed by the skills, energy and enthusiasm of those involved.  The orchestra negotiated Leonard Bernstein’s difficult score very well, and seeing the show performed by people of around the right age for the characters was a rare treat.  Though there were some iffy moments, these were far outweighed by the good bits.  ‘Gee, Officer Krupke’ exploded with energy, and the boys were clearly loving every moment of that song.  The ‘Tonight’ quintet was impressive – not perfect, but very, very good.  It is an incredibly tricky piece of music.  In terms of stage craft, I was amazed at the ensemble’s ability to hold a freeze at the end of the ‘Somewhere’ sequence – it seemed as though not a muscle twitched.  The leads acted most of the adult characters off the stage.  My young friend had an entirely natural, relaxed and convincing air to his performance as Tony and both the main girls impressed me greatly.  The girl playing Anita had an incredible voice, with immense power and control far beyond her years.  I was so glad I had gone and I was encouraged that the schools were supporting talented young performers – involvement in a project of that nature can teach many things which cannot be taught in conventional lessons.

Then on Saturday, I was a steward at the semi-final of a talent competition run by the local churches for the city’s secondary schools and further education institutions.  This competition has many aims.  To encourage and develop local talent (the judges are from a local stage school and offer helpful advice as well as giving out scores).  To demonstrate that the church is not a remote and cold institution.  To have fun. 

The talents on show at the heats and the semi-final were diverse – dancers, singers of all varieties, solo musicians, bands, a comedienne and even a pair of roller-dancers.  Some are better than others, but most of them perform with such joy and enthusiasm that it is infectiously exciting, even if their particular brand of performance is not the spectator’s normal cup of tea.  Particular highlights from the semi-final include a girl who had written a song after hearing someone on the radio say they’d never been given flowers or a card on Valentine’s Day.  The song was well-structured and moving, and her delivery very engaging, using her deep voice to great advantage.  And then there was the boy who did an Irish dance routine, who was able to do amazing things with his knee joints.  It was also encouraging to see the acts cheering each other on and giving fulsome applause.  Next week’s final should be an absolute delight, though I fear the pressure of counting the votes may get to me!

It is a joy to see talented young people perform, perhaps even more so than talented people who have had time to refine their craft.  There is a raw energy and excitement to what they do which is wonderful to behold, and there can be a surprising amount of talent locked in the youngest of bodies.  I can only hope that their teachers, relatives and friends continue to encourage them to use and develop their gifts into adulthood and that young people (particularly boys, who seem to have more inhibitions than girls) continue to be brave enough to act, sing, dance and create music.  It is a privilege to have shared in what they do.

2008
03/16
CATEGORY
Christianity
Education
Singing
Theatre
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In which we ponder Deathly Hallows, sans spoilers


Last weekend (not the one just gone, but the one before it), my reading of Wilkie Collins’ marvellous novel The Moonstone was interrupted by the 21st day of July, which made it absolutely essential for legions of normally sensible British adults to rush to their nearest bookseller, purchase a children’s book and then not speak to anyone until they’d finished it.  Yes, I am a Harry Potter… reader, and I got through the final volume before the weekend had ended.  After all, the prose isn’t exactly taxing, is it?

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2007
07/31
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Books & Comics
Christianity
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