Gardening

In my early years I liked toy soldiers and I had a small wooden fort. One Christmas my father had bought it for me and carried it all the way home from Brixton Market, but on the way dropped it, smashing it, so he had to turn back and buy another one just the same. That's the story I heard. I can still feel the touch of those childish things though they are long gone. What I liked most were the medieval knights their plastic swords, but the later military figures were of little interest. I had one knight who was entirely white and sometimes when I go to bed nowadays and see all that whiteness, I am back again to the original feeling about it. When I see a bright light shining on white or silver card, I am similarly transported back to a nativity play at school, looking at the paper wings of angels. The red lights on railway lines or rainy streets at night are fascinating too, but in the end, when it comes to coloured light, nothing can compare to Christmas. That's my experience anyway.

As the religious ceremony began, an old lady came in, chanting as she passed through the nave. After a time, the celebrant left and entered a confessional. No one came to sit next to him and his assistant continued chanting alone by the altar in a gravelly voice. I was already minded to exit the church and did not wait for things to conclude, or indeed even wait for the Mass, scheduled to begin directly afterwards.

At the Sint-Agneskerk, they maintain the Tridentine tradition, so something interesting for me, in theory at least. I remember a composer of the older generation telling me that he had received an invitation to compose for the new liturgy after Vatican II. He replied that he was interested in the liturgical music that existed BEFORE the Tridentine tradition, so never mind about what might come AFTER it, and they needn't bother him with their new ideas. He got a rude reply for his trouble. What marvels did they suppress in the 16th century? One thinks of Perotin in France. He is more religious, to my mind, than Palestrina, but, "shock-horror", the words are not clear. The Church was minded to go for something more like the Missa Papae Marcelli. That's the story anyway.

If such magical emotions were all that the Christian religion comprised, it would be more popular than it is. Instead, the pews are sparsely filled in many cases. Today I got up fairly early in order to walk all the way across to Sint-Agneskerk where I was interested to hear the Lof ceremony (Benediction of the Blessed Sacrement). I situated myself close to the chapel where candles were burning in readiness, but I got cold feet and retreated to the nave. It was a ritual I didn't know and I worried I might make a fool of myself. In church, all the standing up, sitting down, kneeling, crossing yourself, etc. takes some getting used to! Then there are the prayers you should know by heart, both in Dutch and in Latin, because you'll have a hard time finding them in the missal. At home I have a Liber Usualis, but that's just for musical reasons.

Music without words still has a meaning and that is why you have solemn music playing at the Cenotaph in London each year. It doesn't need a particular title, or text, to become that, because that is its nature. Music does not need words, it has its own words. This can lead to problems when what the musical text is saying is not in agreement with what the verbal text is saying ……Personally I find it bizarre to be confronted by popular music in Church, but that works for some people and I have to respect that.

I walked right down the long stretch of road (Koninginneweg/Willemsparkweg) all the way to the Rijksmuseum. I like to compose in the Harry Potteresque library there, even though it's supposed to be reserved for people consulting the art book collection. I have started using notation software in recent years and in the library, you just plug in and work away. It's inspiring, and one gets quite a lot done. If you tire, you can flip through some books.

Leaving the museum, I called on a friend who works in a shop close by. People can become grumpy if you surprise them at their work place, but he was happy to see me. Afterwards I walked all the way home so, in total, I did about eight kilometers. I saw many spring flowers along the way including many rose bushes. People grow plants in pots by their front doors or on balconies, as they have no front gardens.

Hamish expressed surprise when I told him a while back that I love flowers. In fact, when I see them I am transported back to the short gardening phase I had as a small boy. In recent years I have started to see flowers with the same eyes I had as a child, and I experience the old emotions. For me each different colour can trigger one of these emotions, and the attraction to flowers is connected with that, but not only with that, as there is the matter of form and that of perfume. The scent of bluebells comes to mind. The woods near my childhood home had a large patch of them at the entrance and in bluebell season, I was like a cat with catnip.

I guess my early interest in gardening was swept away by puberty and the "oh so important" love stories that brought something dead. I should have stuck with gardening.