Foxton – A little town with a big past

How do you become a little town with some grand old buildings? You start as a medium-sized port at the centre of the flax trade, and then the river silts up. Mind you there is a windmill, which is quite unusual. Welcome to Foxton.

Napier

In 1931 the town of Napier was flattened by an earthquake, killing 258 people. When the town rebuilt (to much stricter building codes), the obvious style to use was 1930s concrete and Art Deco – with its emphasis on surface decoration it was fashionable, cheap and relatively safe.

As a result the town has a fantastic collection of buildings from the period, ranking second only to South Beach in Florida as an Art Deco city. They run a great programme of events to celebrate it all – look at the Art Deco Napier website for more.

 

Stonehenge Aotearoa

Stonehenge Aotearoa is an entirely serious attempt to teach astronomy and celestial timekeeping: it also explains some early Maori myth about the heavens, though in general it makes a point of debunking astrology. But best of all is Richard, the enthusistic astronomer who does the guided tour (his wife says he ‘looks like he’s measuring fish…’)

Here’s a link to the official Stonehenge Aotearoa website.

Street Art

Wellington has a love of putting odd things out on public display. Sometimes they’re a bit tacky, but often they’re quite interesting and rather fun – it seems to suit their view of themselves as a young nation trying out new ideas all the time.

The Sky Ball on Civic Square isn’t there any more – in fact they seem to have tried to de-clutter Civic Square, which is probably a good thing. On the other hand it might just have blown down one day…

The Troll also isn’t there any more. Shouldn’t every city have a troll in its main square? Though I guess he was left over from Lord of the Rings.

Happily the fake Nikau Palms are still around:

Again, the Signriter advert has disappeared…

but happily there are a few anarchist yarn-bombers around…

 

Wellington Cathedral – Mystery Worshipper Report

Wellington Cathedral’s quite nice as a building, and I get on well with the bell-ringers; but down on the shop floor it’s almost exactly the same as back in 2000: in fact it’s amazing how little it’s changed. The text that follows is from back then, with just a few additions to reflect 2017.

During my time in Wellington I went to the Cathedral a few times but no-one ever showed any interest in me, and eventually I walked out in the middle of a particularly lonely service. [I’ve certainly done this again.]

The format here is taken, of course, from Ship of Fools.

Place: Wellington, New Zealand

Mystery Worshipper: Thomas Cranmer

The church: Wellington Cathedral of St Paul

Denomination: Anglican

The building: 20th century concrete with annoying twiddly bits, a cross between a cinema and a wedding cake iced in pink. The overall structure is good but the messiness of the twiddly bits is distracting.

Inside there’s rather less trivia and it’s just a plain, pleasant 1930s design.

Links with Coventry Cathedral in the detailed art work, particularly the tapestry and the ‘angel’ windows. It turns out John Hutton was a Kiwi, and he had a few studio spares left over…

A nice bright space inside that ‘works’ well.

The neighbourhood: Thorndon, Wellington’s diplomatic and government area – rather posh by New Zealand standards, though a little tatty by anyone else’s. Some urban renewal round the edges (where I live.)

The congregation is heavily biased towards professional over-60s, wearing suits and twin-sets and all with immaculate hair. Most of them commute in from other parishes.

The Cathedral also serves as the parish church, though you’d never know this if you live in the parish.

Today’s cast: The Dean, Rev Canon Michael Brown [Digby Wilkinson these days]

What was the name of the service: Choral Eucharist (the main Sunday gig).

How full was the building: About 15% including various other clergy (all dressed up) and the choir (who are basically the main focus)

Did anyone welcome you personally: One of the welcoming team said ‘Good Morning’: the rest all had their backs to us since they were busily folding service-sheets. Apart from that, no-one said anything – though the Dean passed through pressing the flesh at one point.

Was your pew comfortable: Chair, actually: and it was very comfortable. There were, of course, empty seats either side so I could spread my books out.

How would you describe the pre-service atmosphere: The choir were singing well: the combination of light, architecture and music was delightful.

What were the exact opening words of the service: ‘Good morning and welcome to Choral Eucharist on Stir-up Sunday’. (It’s nice to see Stir-up Sunday still surviving somewhere.)

What books did the congregation use during the service: New Zealand Prayer Book, Hymns Ancient and Modern [Common Praise nowadays]. Text of the Psalm was available in the Prayer Book, though the choir unhelpfully sang from a different version.

What musical instruments were played: Organ – and it was making a jolly good noise. [Electronic Organ these days, because the ‘real’ one is damaged after the 2016 earthquake]

Did anything distract you: Name plates on all the seats: the British High Commission seemed to have given quite a lot of them, and appeared to be out in force to sit on them. [Fewer of them these days, but the diversity of the congregation hasn’t changed much]

Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or what: Not stiff-upper-lip, but definitely choir-led Anglican. I can cope with a little of this but in the end I felt too distanced – though it was, after all, billed as Choral Eucharist so I should have known what to expect. The congregation were completely at sea when one of the hymn numbers was wrong, and are clearly unused to working things out for themselves!

On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher: 6 – easy to listen to, and his material was well ordered and presented. I felt there was more to him than Choral Eucharist or this format gave scope for.

In a nutshell, what was the sermon about: ‘Is it worth it?’, meaning is there any point to life. He answered it quite well, or as well as anyone can.

Which part of the service was like being in heaven: Up to a point (i.e. until I got bored) the singing, the organ music, and, surprisingly, the sense of different colour schemes marking different functions in the service. The choir were dressed in red and sat in their varnished pews with little lights, looking rather dark and serious – but beyond them the celebrants were bathed in light and dressed in white and pale green, echoing the greener colours of the sanctuary and looking rather as if they were in heaven already. [The choir – and particularly the choirmaster – seem to have got more ‘up themselves’ since 2000. I might transfer them to ‘the other place’.]

And which part was like being in… er… the other place: Trying to get anyone to make eye contact with me as I beamed at them after the service.

What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost: The Dean shook my hand and we spoke briefly: I warmed to him personally, but apart from him absolutely no-one at all showed any interest despite me doing my best ‘I’m new here’ act. I even went back in two more times to give people another chance, but nothing came of it. [These days people do seem to make slightly more effort – but by then I’m usually feeling just too distanced from it, playing a commentary through my head rather than actually engaging with them.]

How would you describe the after-service coffee: No indication was given that there was any, and when I eventually located it the whole thing was like a day care centre for the elderly. My nerve failed and I fled. [Back then it was in a side room so you had to be really keen – or desperate – to track it down. These days it’s served in the nave, which seems to make things a bit more friendly. But only a bit.]

How would you feel about making this church your regular (where 10=ecstatic, 0=terminal): 4. If I had to I could exist there, particularly since I’m only here for a year. I would enjoy the singing and the general show, and would no doubt ‘plug in’ at some point. I shall probably go back for some of the festivals if I’m in town. But on today’s showing my attendance wouldn’t amount to very much. [It’s 3 years this time, but I’d still score them only a 4] 

Did the service make you feel glad to be a Christian: It did, strangely. [Not really. The word I’d use is suicidal, though I always worry I shouldn’t quite use that word. But honestly…] Being a Christian isn’t always brilliant, and we don’t always get it right, but the theme of ‘Is it worth it’ actually struck a chord. You can pick the Christian answer apart in many ways, but at the end of the day it has something going for it. And the good bits of the service really were something to be glad about.

What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days’ time: The colours, the singing, and how the Dean seemed to be fighting a lone battle to make contact between the church and the world outside. [No change there, then.]

Greytown, Carterton & Masterton

Greytown is a pretty little place and is a great ‘lifestyle’ choice if you want a quiet rural life with a jazz band on a Sunday, a nice restaurant or two, a touch of culture and the option of a train ride (or possibly a daily commute) to Wellington. Actually you could say that about a lot of New Zealand, but Greytown seems to have everything rather well in balance.

Carterton and Masterton are also pleasant … but there are no photos of them yet.