Monday 30 May 2016

Thomas à Becket returns home to Canterbury

Well, a piece of him. A piece of bone believed to be from the saint's elbow has been visiting England this past week, on loan from Hungary where it usually resides. After being displayed in several London churches (including both Westminster Abbey and Westminster Cathedral) the relic was taken from London to Canterbury, the site of Becket's murder and medieval shrine. The shrine sprang up almost immediately after his death amid numerous reports of miracles and a medieval populace condemning Henry II and calling for Thomas' canonisation. This in fact happened very speedily, in 1173, only three years after his death. The shrine flourished wildly throughout the Middle Ages but was destroyed at the Reformation.

Henry II (left) and Thomas à Becket (right). From a medieval manuscript, via

The London-Canterbury pilgrimage route, and the incredibly popular medieval cult of St Thomas, was imortalised by Chaucer in the Canterbury Tales. Over six hundred years later, history seems to be repeating itself, and St Thomas' cult to be undergoing a temporary revival, if the number of news articles covering the story is anything to go by:

BBC 
Telegraph (also here)

I wonder what the original medieval pilgrims would have made of it all!

And specially, from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,
The holy blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seke.
- Canterbury Tales, General Prologue

Thursday 26 May 2016

Corpus Christi

                             Laudus thema specialis,                             
Panus vivus et vitalis
Hodie proponitur.
Quem in sacrae mensa caenae,
Turbae fratrum duodenae
Datum non ambigitur.
Sit laus plena, sit sonora,
Sit jucunda, sit decora
Mentis jubilatio.
Dies enim solemnis agitur,
In quae mensae prima recolitur
Hujus institutio.

From Lauda Sion (sequence for Corpus Christi Mass), written by Thomas Aquinas c. 1264.

Today is Corpus Christi, the feast of Christ's Body and Blood. This feast is not a fixed one but varies with the date of Easter; it is celebrated on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday and therefore falls between late May and late June.

During the English Middle Ages this feast was one of the most important on the liturgical calendar, probably because it falls very close to Midsummer, when people are in the mood for festival and celebration. English weather being what it is, this is also most likely why it was the feastday with which the mystery play cycles - performed outdoors and needing sixteen or more hours of daylight - came to be associated. York, Chester and Coventry all had play cycles which were performed every year on, or very close to, the Corpus Christi feast.

Pope Urban IV had established the feast in 1264, but it was first celebrated in England only in the early fourteenth century. When it did arrive, however, the feast seems very quickly to have been incorporated into medieval English religious and even national identity. (Even today the feast is still one of England's traditional Holy Days of Obligation.)

Throughout the Middle Ages, devotion to the body of Christ - both as Eucharist and the human body which suffered on the cross - was intense. This devotion to Christ’s body and the significance which it held as metaphor, symbol and Eucharistic reality in (most of) medieval English society has been well documented by scholars including Miri Rubin, Sarah Beckwith and Tony Corbett. The idea of the body as a metaphor for a unified society goes back to Aristotle, but was enthusiastically adopted by what Beckwith has called “medieval political theorists.”1
This image brings together the two aspects of the Body of Christ that so fascinated the Middle Ages - the Eucharist, consecrated here by the priest at Mass, and the human body of Christ which suffered on the cross. As the priest holds up the Host towards the Crucifix, the two are visually linked, a powerful image which was repeated during every Mass at the Elevation of the Host. At the Elevation, the Lay Folks Mass Book instructs the people to "knelande holde vp both þi handes,/And so þo leuacioun pou be-halde,/for þat is he þat iudas salde,/and sithen was scourged & don on rode"2 - an instruction which explicitly describes the relationship between the Crucifixion and the Host. Image via

The image of the body of Christ was invoked and “presented by the official church of the late Middle Ages as a unifying symbol;”3 Christ Himself was seen as “the bringer of unity.”4 Yet, paradoxically, Christ’s body was at the same time yet a source of conflict and discord, “the arena where social identity was negotiated, where the relationship of self and society, subjectivity and social process found a point of contact and conflict.”5 The metaphor of Christ’s body for the wholeness of society was fractured and splintered by different groups who each sought to claim Christ as their own. The Peasants’ Revolt, for example, “was based around identification with the figura of Christ, seeing in him a poor peasant like them.”6

Throughout the York mystery play cycle, the fracturing of Christ’s body, both metaphorically and literally, happens again and again: the Corpus Christi is the cycle’s overarching concern, holding it together as a united entity, but the different pageants of the various guilds focus on how one particular aspect of it relates to each guild’s own (worldly) identity, interests and concerns. Thus the Mercers’ Doomsday is concerned with buying and selling; in the Bakers’ Last Supper the guild’s commercial product, bread, is linked none-too-subtly with the consecrated bread of the Last Supper and of the Mass; the Pinners’ Crucifixio has the guild members, in their roles as the soldiers nailing Christ to the cross, performing and discussing their own craft, tools and materials. 

Given that the Corpus Christi feast centres on transubstantiation, the most important tenet of Catholic belief and the essential difference between Catholicism and Protestantism, the feast was (unsurprisingly) attacked during the English Reformation. Under Edward IV the feast was abolished in 1548. The York Corpus Christi plays managed to survive until 1569, albeit with censorship; many of the pageants focusing the Virgin Mary were censored or repressed, and those dealing with explicitly Catholic doctrine were also selectively 'edited.' This happened with the York Last Supper pageant - the manuscript leaf containing the play's central episode is now mysteriously missing! With the page gone, there is of course no way of saying with certainty what it contained. But, given the closeness with which the other pageants in the cycle follow their scriptural and liturgical counterparts, it is highly likely that the missing page, which occurs precisely where we would expect Christ’s performance of the transubstantiation to occur in the sequence of the play, ran along the lines of:

... this is My Body which shall be delivered for you; this do for the commemoration of Me... This chalice is the new testament in My blood; this do ye, as often as you shall drink, for the commemoration of Me. For as often as you shall eat this bread, and drink this chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until He come. Therefore whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink of the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord

 - which are the words of the Epistle in the Corpus Christi feastday Mass.

Footnotes
1. Sarah Beckwith, Christ’s Body: Identity, Culture, and Society in Late Medieval Writings (London, New York: Routledge, 1993), 27.
2. "Kneeling, hold up both thy hands,/And so behold the elevation,/For that is He that Judus sold,/and after was scourged and died on the cross [rood]."
3. Tony Corbett, The Laity, the Church and the Mystery Plays: A Drama of Belonging (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2009), 199.
4. Ibid., 201.
5. Beckwith, Christ’s Body, 22.
6. Corbett, The Laity, the Church, and the Mystery Plays, 198.

This post contains material adapted from Chapter 1.2 of my MA thesis.

Wednesday 25 May 2016

'Firste when I this worlde hadde wroght' | Opening of the York Mystery Plays

The York Mystery Plays open tomorrow (Thursday 26th May), the feast of Corpus Christi - the day on which they were originally performed back in the Middle Ages.

This is a time-lapse video of the stage and seating being built inside York Minster:


Ego sum Alpha et O: vita, via, veritas, primus et novissimus.
I am gracious and great, God without beginning,
I am maker unmade, all might is in me;
I am life, and way unto wealth-winning,
I am foremost and first, as I bid shall it be.
My blessing of blee shall be blending,
And hielding, from harm to be hiding,
My body in bliss ay abiding,
Unending, without any ending.

Opening of The Fall of the Angels [the first pageant in the play cycle], from York Mystery Plays: A Selection in Modern Spelling, edited by Richard Beadle and Pamela King (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
 

Tuesday 17 May 2016

"Quite, quite chop-fallen"

On my way home today from the university I walked past Bard's Yard, where the Pop-Up Globe is in the process of being pulled down (sniff). Here it is, in all its waning glory.

From the end of Aotea Square
From the site entrance, on Greys Ave

From the corner of Greys Ave and Mayoral Drive




From Mayoral Drive

The green thing in the foreground is the roof of the onion dome which originally sat between the two gables. The green of the roof exactly matches the green of the crane!

Good night, sweet Globe, and flights of angels [in hard hats and fluorescent jackets...] sing thee to thy rest!

Sunday 15 May 2016

Pentecost Sunday

via
Veni, Sancte Spiritus,
Et emitte caelitus
Lucis tuae radium.

Veni, pater pauperum,
Veni, dator munereum,
Veni, lumen cordium.

Consolator optime,
Dulcis hospes animae,
Dulce refrigerium.

In labore requies,
In aestu temperies,
In fletu solatium.

O lux beatissima,
Reple cordis intima
Tuorum fidelium.
 

Pentecost Sunday, the feast of the Holy Ghost, is also known in England as Whitsunday, a term dating from the Norman Conquest. The word comes from late Old English; whit means white (hwitte in Old English; Hwita Sunnandæg = White Sunday or Whitsunday). What the white refers to is a matter of some debate; the most common explanation is that it refers to the white baptismal robes of those who were baptised during the feast's vigil. Another explanation links the Christian feast with a much older pagan one - the Mayday festivities, when young girls would wear white to mark the coming of summer.

The Mayday dance in the 2008 BBC Tess of the D'Urbervilles, via

During the Middle Ages whit seems to have been (erroneously) confused with wit or wisdom, one of the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost. Thus:

þis day ys called Whitsonday, for bycause þat þe Holy Gost as þys day broʒt wyt and wysdome ynto all Cristes dyscyples

[this day is called Whitsunday, because the Holy Ghost on this day brought wit and wisdom to all Christ's disciples]

- from the Augustinian Canon John Mirk (c.1382-1414).

According to some versions of the King Arthur legend, Arthur married Guinevere on the feast of Pentecost, and in Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur it is on the feast of Pentecost that the Knights of the Round Table swear their oath of honour, chivalry and loyalty:

the kynge... charged them never to do outerage nothir morthir, and allwayes to fle treason, and to gyff mercy unto hym that askith mercy... and allwayes to do ladyes, damesels, and jantilwomen [socour] strenthe hem in hir ryghtes, and never to enforce them, upon payne of dethe. Also, that no man take no batayles in a wrongefull quarell for no love ne for no worldis goodis. So unto thys were all knyghtis sworne of the Table Rounde, both olde and yonge, and every yere so were the[y] sworne at the hygh feste of Pentecoste.

[the king... charged them never to do outrage nor murder, and always to flee treason, and to give mercy to those who asked for mercy... and also to give succour to ladies, damsels and gentlewomen, to defend their rights, and never to use force against them, upon pain of death. Also, that no man take go into battle for a wrongful cause, not for love nor for worldly goods. So to this were sworn all the knights of the Round Table, both old and young, and every year so were they sworn at the high feast of Pentecost.]

It is interesting that Malory uses the word Pentecost, not Whitsun, which was the more common term in England at the time. The use of Pentecost is presumably because the King Arthur stories were originally written in French. The French term for the feast is Pentecôte, so Mallory has translated it literally into English.

The Knights of the Round Table swear their oath at Pentecost, via

Quote from Thomas Malory taken from Eugene Vinaver, ed., The Works of Sir Thomas Malory (London: Oxford University Press, 1968), 91.
Quote from John Mirk taken from Theodore Erbe, ed., Mirk's Festival: A Collection of Homilies (London: Kegan Paul et al., for the Early English Text Society, 1905), 159.
Veni Sancte Spiritus from the Sequence for the Mass of Pentecost.

Monday 9 May 2016

Farewell to the Pop-Up Globe



Our revels now are ended. These our actors,                   
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air,
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

- The Tempest IV.1.148-58.


With a full house, a standing ovation, deafening cheers and quite a few misty eyes, the Pop-Up Globe season came to an end last night. Deconstruction begins this morning and many people will be very sad to see their happy home disappear into air, into thin air.

I am not usually a huge fan of Dr Seuss (too glib for my taste) but one of his oft-quoted proverbs seems fitting here: Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened. The three months of the Globe season have been magical. I will always remember them, and always feel privileged to have been a part of them.

 
As Miles Gregory said in his speech last night, that it happened at all is really quite amazing. Dumping a hundred tons of scaffolding in a car park is a crazy idea... but what a brilliant one!

The Globe may be coming down, but - at the risk of sounding clichéd - the memories remain. For me Twelfth Night will always stand out, for its infectious mirth, its light touch, its joy and its poignancy. By the end of the run I knew it by heart.

Over the course of the Globe journey, yours truly has

* seen 17 performances - Twelfth Night 9 times; Romeo and Juliet 5 times; Hamlet, Antony & Cleo, and The Tempest once each

* ushered for 12 of those - Twelfth Night x 6, Romeo and Juliet x 4, Hamlet x 1, Antony & Cleo x1

* sold about 40 programmes, which also meant

* learning how to operate an Eftpos machine - from the vendor's end!

* scanned about 250 tickets (very stressful, because I did it for the first time at the very last public performance and my machine kept jamming) 

* assisted four fainting groundlings

* broken one pane of glass in one of the Gentleman's Rooms, tidying up late one night after the performance (the picture frame was balanced precariously on the scaffolding and, whisking out the rubbish a little too efficiently, I caught it with my sleeve)

* handed out about 200 bars of chocolate as part of a Cadbury promotion 

* earned four complementary tickets, one Pop-Up Globe T-shirt, and one sketched portrait

* met many lovely people

* dealt with several people complaining about their seats, the stairs, scaffolding in their sight line, or Shakespeare generally (happily these were far outweighed by the hundreds of people who came out with beaming smiles saying, 'Thankyou, it was wonderful!')

* taken dozens of photographs (most of them terrible)

* by hook and by crook, persuaded all of my brothers to experience the Globe (sorry, Peter :P)


* published 22 blog posts with the label 'Pop-Up Globe' (sorry, dear readers)

* sung the praises of the Globe far and wide to anyone who would listen (sorry, folks)

* achieved fleeting fame by being the only person to toss a ball into a bucket wedged on the middle tier of the actors' tower (long story) on their first attempt (needless to say this was a complete fluke)

* sweltered in the heat of summer and shivered in the rain and wind of late autumn

* seen hundreds - thousands - of people having the time of their lives

So many memories... 


Farewell. Parting is such sweet sorrow...

Tuesday 3 May 2016

Pop-Up Portrait

This was sketched by Paul Willis (Peter/Sir Andrew Aguecheek) at the ushers' party last night.