Feeling 'Christmassy'? No, well sing a carol . . .

Are you feeling ‘Christmassy’ yet?


This is a question that people often ask each other throughout December and it is usually, in my experience, asked by people who feel somewhat nervous that they aren’t yet in the ‘zone’ that leads up to December 25 and want reassurances others aren’t too.

I must admit I didn’t feel ‘Christmassy’ at all this year until – and I can almost name the exact time – about 6.40pm last Thursday, December 8. That was when I first heard the line ‘Away in a manger, no crib for a bed’ being lustily sung at the Chronicle/Rotary Club of Bath’s annual carol service at the abbey.

And it ‘got’ me.

For those who were around last Thursday night you will remember it was a horrible, cold, wet and miserable evening.

If ever there was a reason to not attend an event in the city centre on an evening, Mother Nature had provided the perfect one and it could have been entirely understandable if the abbey was half-empty for the proceedings.

But it wasn’t. Oh no.

There wasn’t a seat spare to be found and the abbey was packed to the rafters because people know that this annual city centre carol service is the one that can actually kick off Christmas for Bath people – and it certainly did for me.

The key to its success I think is revisiting much-loved carols in a communal atmosphere. There is something about Christmas carols that really seems to move people – whether they are regular church-goers or just those who attend such places for weddings or the odd funeral.

Our love for carols probably goes back to the fun of doing school nativity plays – a Christmas tradition that, if anything, seems to be getting stronger. Next week’s Chronicle will feature no fewer than 24 pages worth of pictures of such nativities and all will reveal the sheer joy that young people have in taking part in this special event at this time of the year. And no decent nativity is complete without a carol or two. There are many new ones these days –- and probably a lot of them are rather funkier than the ‘old faves’ – but the traditional tunes are still as popular as ever and just as nearly everyone still knows the Lord’s Prayer, everyone also seems to know what follows the words ‘the cattles are lowing’. . .

These tunes are just something in our consciousness now and you don’t have to be remotely religious to know that carols can touch the parts other spiritual songs can’t.

Of course, for many people the impact of even some of the ‘top of the pops’ in carol terms has been diluted by the fact they seem to be on a permanent loop in the shops at this festive time. You go from Noddy Holder in one shop to Hark The Herald in another and both, after a while, can get equally annoying.

But, put in the right context – and there is no possible better context than the Bath Abbey on a December evening – carols can truly touch the heart, lift the spirits and can really make people stop and think amidst all the other Christmas chaos around them about what is the actual ‘reason for the season’.

Christmassy? Yep, I am now.

Seeing Bath through the eyes of artists

When you live or work in an area you sometimes become a bit blase about its attractions.

If you walk past the same buildings – however beautiful – day in day out it is easy just to take it all in your stride and not fully appreciate it. It sometimes takes an outsider to remind you of the beauty in front of your eyes.

That was certainly the case for me last week when I had the pleasure, for the second year running, to be one of the judges for The Bath Prize, an art competition designed to get people to capture in art form the spirit of the city as they see it.

Although only in its second year, the competition has already established itself as a major artistic event and more than 400 entries were submitted for this year’s prizes. As judges, we got to see the shortlisted top 200 or so and I was genuinely taken aback at the quality of the works we had to view. It was of a very high standard indeed.

What the selection also showed me is the way people – the vast majority of whom come from outside our area – view Bath and its many attractions. As such we saw plenty of excellent works featuring the weir, Pulteney Bridge, Bath Abbey, The Circus and of course the Royal Crescent which produced the runner-up picture. Beyond that, however, artists found beauty in all manner of other areas of Bath life.

I was particularly impressed that in a rugby-dominated city one of the very best pictures features Bath City Football Club and I also admired the bravery of the artist who, with all Bath’s obvious attractions, chose to paint the gasworks towers at Windsor Bridge. In addition, it was also fascinating to see how many people had been impressed enough by the Bath Lions to make them the centrepiece of their work. Proof, if ever it was needed, of what a successful and admired project this has been.

So, once again I left The Bath Prize judging very impressed with what I’d seen – and, crucially I started to look around me again with renewed appreciation of this city’s beauty.

A day to mourn and celebrate a special lady

13 years ago, a 25-year-old woman, Melanie Hall, went mising after a night out in Bath's city centre. A few weeks ago her body was finally found and everyone's worst fears were confirmed - she had been murdered. I went to the funeral in Bath Abbey last week and here is my comment on what was a very moving event. It appears in the Chronicle of Thursday, December 17.

"Melanie Hall was, by all accounts, a beautiful woman on both the inside and the outside. And, therefore, it seemed apt that her funeral last Friday was a truly beautiful affair.

I was there, along with around 1,000 folk from all over the community, both to mourn and to celebrate the life of a 25-year-old woman who has become an unwitting part of modern day Bath history.

This was a time for tears, yes, but it was also a time to cheer a life well lived and salute a remarkable young person who touched everyone she met.

Friday’s unforgettable service gave us all an hitherto unseen glimpse into Melanie’s character, provided with courage and tenderness by family and friends alike. What emerged was a picture of a caring, modest woman who would probably have been somewhat bemused (and probably a trifle embarrassed) by the waves of love that were expressed towards her in this most public of places. After all Melanie had seemingly spent her whole life expressing and living her love for others – on Friday it was chance for the world to see she was truly loved back.

What made the day so special was that every element worked together perfectly. The music was rich and evocative, the carols and hymns (led by Ruth McKibbins’ quite wonderful Silver Ring choir) were well chosen and expertly sung and the quality and delivery of the readings and tributes was simply peerless.

The powerful, thought-provoking address of Melanie’s father, Steve, fired all our imaginations but no less effective and inspiring were the intimate insights into a young life offered by Melanie’s sister Dominique and friends and colleagues like Sister Gill Capon, Sophie Bruce and Sarah Hopkins. All spoke from the heart – and all duly touched everyone else’s.

Some of us there, including myself, had never had the privilege of knowing Melanie but I am sure we all felt we ‘met’ her on Friday.

In addition we were able to reflect on the well-crafted readings and thoughts expressed by the Revd Prebendary Edward Mason, the Rev Chris Roberts and the Rev Alison Fry who, I thought, all got their tone and message exactly right. Put it all together and the whole service was like a beautiful mountain range – all peaks and no valleys.

The impact was to leave all of us in the packed abbey feeling humbled, inspired and totally united. I found so many moments on Friday to be intensely moving but I was particularly struck by the words of a poem by David Harkins called She’s Gone, read so elegantly by the brave Dominique Hall.

It included the following lines which sums up how so many of must feel when we have lost loved ones. These words – about looking forward not back and offering thanksgiving for a life not just sadness for its loss – seemed as if they were written for this occasion and for this special young lady even though they were penned nearly 30 years ago . . .

“You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back,

Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left...

"You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back,

Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.”

Words, as they say, are not enough – but boy, oh boy, did they come close.

So, Melanie, finally, we can say ‘rest in peace’. No one deserves that sense of peace more.

Sleep well".