Some of you will recall the email I sent a few weeks back Contempt
I received back a helpful and constructive response from the Philharmonia:
Thank you for your email. I apologise for the delay in responding to you, but I wanted to make sure that I was giving you correct information, so I have spoken to both the Cathedral and to the Philharmonia Chorus (the Promoter of the concert).I appreciate that the shortage of toilet facilities is a problem at the Cathedral, especially at such a large concert as there was last week. (Incidentally, this is not a problem unique to the Cathedral, but one that we encounter at several churches in which we play!)
However, I understand from the Cathedral that although there were a couple of loos made available to the public (in the basement, near the café), some of the ushers there were unfortunately unaware of this and so did not advise members of the audience correctly.
I have also found out from the Cathedral that there are facilities available in the Cathedral Hall (through a side-door in the Cathedral, about 40 yards' walk) - here, there are 4 ladies' loos, 5 gents' loos and a loo with access for those with disabilities. But, I'm afraid that for some reason, these loos were not open for the whole evening on 20 October.
I have been informed by the Cathedral that these extra toilets will be open for all future choral concerts in this season. I have asked that this info be printed in all Philharmonia Chorus & Bach Choir concerts at the Cathedral.
Again, I do apologise that you had a bad experience of concert-going at Westminster Cathedral. Thank you very much for bringing this matter to our attention.
With all good wishes,
to which I replied, thanking her, and mentioning that I was looking forward to Messiah
Wednesday night was Messiah. I arrived very early - I had been working in another part of London and was caught in a need to kill a bit of time. As I was going in, the woman in front of me quizzed the usher about the toilet facilities, and he responded consistent with the info in the email. I sat for a while in the church, then decided to go outside for a cigarette. In that maybe ten minutes I heard five different people angsting about toilet facilities.
The programme included the libretto, including a clear marking of the Interval, including directions to the toilets, and an exhortation for people to take their seats promptly after the interval. For the first ten minutes of the second half I noticed a steady procession of random lone women scuttling in to take their seats, demonstrating to me that the toilet facilities were still inadequate. However, we have progress, and it's always nice when sensible people take sensible steps when prompted by customers.
But I have to conclude that Westminster Cathedral is woefully unsuitable for performances. I t was extremely cold, actually colder than outside, although the mass of bodies did help to warm it up. But just about everybody kept their coats, and scarves on, and many their gloves.
The sightlines were appalling. I didn't have the best seat in the house, but not the worst either. I was in Block C of Four, so I was about 2/3 back. I could not see the orchestra, and could barely see the soloists. It suddenly struck me - we expect our concert halls, and theatres, and cinemas and lecture halls, and council chambers, and whatnot to be sloping, but I do not think I have ever been in a church where seats at the back are higher than those at the front. And it only struck me on Wednesday night.
I also have to say candidly that Westminster Cathedral is truly dreadful. From the outside it is a splendid piece of gloriously Byzantine architecture. On the inside it is a mess, a true higgledy-piggledyness of various styles, all clashing, and seemingly unthought out. I have been in countless cathedrals and abbeys in England, and many basilicas in Italy, and a few other places, and I can safely say of all the flagship ecclesiastical buildings I have visited not one can match the sheer mess of Westminster Cathedral.
The chairs were desperately uncomfortable - someone exclaimed loudly "we should have brought cushions". My particular problem was that the seats were wooden bench-type things with a raised knob on the back rest. That knob dug into my body in such a way that I experienced a sharp and excruciating pain that was almost unbearable when I moved - I was a bit worried that I might have damaged a kidney, although I suspect it was just soft flesh (of which I have much...!) and nerve-endings.
It was amusing as people came in and tried to find their seats. The Nave was divided into blocks - ABCD, and in each block were rows ABC etc. And within each row were seats 123 etc. Each seat had a label on it - mine said F16; it was next to F17 and behind E16. At intervals down the aisle were boards marking the blocks. At the back of the aisle it said "D" so I surmised that Block D lay forward of that, until the slight gap in the rows, and the board that said "C". Block C lay in front of that, up to the board that said "B". Sensible, logical.
I ended up working as an unofficial usher, trying to explain to people not only the block numbers but also the rows and seats. A few people said "Are you F?" which seemed perfectly sensible, but then seemed unable to grasp that as I was F16, the chair on my right F17, it was likely that a seat numbered below 16 would be to the left of the aisle. I had to explain to one man exactly who he would be sitting next to, and even then he didn't grasp it.
One group came in and said "Hmm, the ticket says Block C F97". Because I was right next to him, I said "This is Block C, this is row F, 97 is going to be at the far end" I pointed to my right.
"It's not very clear," he harrumphed and glared at at me, as if it was my fault.
"There is a board saying "C"!" I said, patiently. The look he gave me. They discussed amongst themselves. They walked forward, beyond the board saying "B", came back, examined the seats to the left of me, went back to the back, and then came forward in the right aisle to take their seats exactly where I had shown them to be. Strange that the majority of people I helped said 'thanks' or gave a smile or a nod.
I can't really say that the ushers were at fault - they had pointed me to my block and said I was about halfway down the block, in the aisle seat on the right. What more can they do short of individually showing each of a thousand or so people to their seats? I can only conclude that there is a worrying lack of problem-solving ability amongst a demographic that I would assume could cope with simple standard data. I am talking about middle-aged, seemingly prosperous or at least comfortable, which would suggest employment that requires more than the routine repetition of simple tasks. I admit that by inclination and training I am pretty skilled at interpreting and using data, but I can't see what is complex about the hierarchical sequential use of numbers and letters.
But the most disappointing aspect of the evening was the poor acoustics. I'm in Block C again for Elijah in March, but am very grateful I have Block A for the Brahms Requiem in May. Every venue has its acoustical quirks, but there seemed to be a consensus that confirmed the evidence of my ears - the music seemed very far away and simply did not project satisfactorily to the where we were. Which was disappointing...
Comments