Viva la Música
December 18, 2019 Blog
Music is especially evocative during Advent, although for some people the memories touched can be bittersweet, as I discovered on a prison visit a couple of weeks before Christmas.
We were in HMP Wormwood Scrubs for the regular Irish Chaplaincy Traveller forum and I'd brought my guitar in to play to what turned out to be a very lively group! One or two of the younger guys were being a bit overly boisterous but I didn't let it put me off. I just kept singing and I just kept smiling, as I looked around the group making eye contact. It was reassuring to see that a couple of the men were quietly singing along to the Irish songs. I'd planned as well to go into a medley of Christmas songs, both traditional and modern (assuming that everyone would be in the mood for some Christmas music); but was pulled up short when one guy exclaimed "we don't want to be reminded of Christmas when we're in here". "Can I at least do 'Fairytale of New York'", I pleaded, and happily they relented, and were singing the chorus with gusto. I think I managed to win them over because when it came to the refreshments they were almost fighting each other to make me a cup of tea. I ended up with four! One of which had so much sugar in it, it was undrinkable! Not to matter; I was really touched, so too when there was a whip round for mince pies for me, before any leftovers got secreted into jogging trouser pockets to be smuggled back to the cells!
There was a man sitting next to me who had not seemed very happy when I'd been singing and I assumed he just didn't like the songs or didn't like me or whatever! But after the drinks he suddenly said to me "you've a queer good voice but this just reminds me of being in the pub". Another came over to talk to me. He'd been one of those singing along and he was a good bit older than the rest. He explained to me "ah, the young guys get a bit over-excited". We had a really nice chat. It was his first time in prison and he said "it's like spending 23 hours a day in a bathroom". That was certainly a striking image of the reality of being in prison.
The week before the Scrubs gig I'd been singing in a care home in Kensington for people with dementia, which I always enjoy. I do mainly Irish songs for the benefit of the Irish people there but everyone in what is a very international group of residents appreciates the music. As I was going round greeting people on arrival one of the Irishmen, clearly in a cheeky mood, motioned to the lady next to him and said to me "give her a kiss"!
This group were very much up for Christmas songs! People were singing along with the so-familiar melodies; and when it got to 'Jingle Bells' even some of those who are normally quite subdued were joining in and moving their arms, with their faces lighting up in recognition. It was a lovely moment. So too when a Columbian lady (the one I'd been encouraged to kiss at the start!) came up to me and said in Spanish (she appears to have reverted to her mother tongue in her later years) "the singing was beautiful. May God bless you".
In the run up to Christmas we'll be carol singing in two other care homes where we visit Irish people and I'm sure we'll be invoking more memories, hopefully positive, and have some similarly special moments. Music has such power to both transport us to another time and place, but also to bring together people and cultures.
We're currently planning our second annual St Brigid's Day concert, which will take place on January 31st 2020 at St James' Church, Piccadilly: a 'Celebration of Irish music, poetry and dancing'. Like the events mentioned above, it will bring people together and, I have no doubt, touch the heart and the soul and raise the spirit. Amongst the variety of talented performers on the bill we'll have the young people of the London Celtic youth Orchestra and the 'more mature' members of the Irish Pensioners Choir'. It promises to be another wonderful occasion.
How blessed I am to have contact with such incredible people in such a rich variety of situations and to have music as one of the means by which we encounter one another and share in our common humanity.
And here's a bit of my own music to share with you, as we approach the great feast of Christmas:
