
A Celebration of John Milton
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During the summer there have been installations by artist Mark Maxwell. The hanging text of this art work is the first lines of Milton's Paradise Lost, 'Of man's first disobedience'
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A musical celebration of John Milton
This was
presented by the enterprising Live Literature Company, and led by Valerie
Drayton. She directed what was simple but stylish potpourri of music, poetry and
dramatic scenes, accompanied by illustrations back-projected on to a large scene
and very ably stage-managed by Lauren.
The music was performed by Anne on the East organ and by our quarter of Penny,
Sue, John and Steve, and Henry accompanied by Sam on the piano.
The poetry
readings and enactment of the dramatic scenes were articulated with sensitivity
and clarity by Charles, Margo, Lucy and Dave, all aspiring actors anxious to
make a name for themselves.
The proceedings
began with Margo reading Wordsworth’ poem “London
1812”, while projected on the screen was the image of Milton. This and most of the subsequent images
were the work of William Blake. The poem is an exultation of Milton, containing the famous line “England has need
of thee”, to give us “manners, virtue, freedom and power”.
Next followed a
performance by 4 members of the choir and Anne of “Blest Pair of Sirens”, with
words by Milton
and music by C.H. Parry (1848-1918), who was then established as the best
English choral composer of the day. In this piece, the music and text are in
perfect harmony, dissonant notes reflecting man's discord, an exquisite melody
when it is resolved.
There then
followed scenes from “Paradise Lost”, with images especially designed by William
Blake projected on to the screen. A monumental and ambitious work, it is
Milton’s supreme achievement. At the same time it is
profoundly human, concerned with feelings which are universal, of love, ambition
and hunger for knowledge
The chancel was
used imaginatively as the Garden of Eden. We saw the happiness of Adam and Eve,
the temptation of Eve by Satan, her seduction of her husband and the final
expulsion of both from the Garden. The 3 players, Lucy as Eve, Charles as Adam
and Dave as Satan as well as doubling as the storyteller, acquitted themselves
very professionally, bringing out the nobility and the pathos of the lines.
Next
came the splendid reading and singing of some of Milton’s
sonnets accompanied by the picture of Milton aged
21. “When I consider how my light is spent”, written as Milton became blind, was
sung by Margo, followed by Henry’s singing of “How soon hath Time”, composed
when Milton was at Cambridge, with music by Fimzi. “Cyriak, the Three Years’
Day”, written when Milton was actually blind, was next sang by
Margo.
From “Me
thought I saw my late espoused saint”, read by Henry, a sonnet to Katherine,
Milton’s second wife who died in childbirth, it is clear that despite his severe
and disciplined nature, Milton could show profound human feelings of love and
loss. In actual fact, he never saw his wife’s face since he had been blind for
several years before he married her. “Her face was veil’d”, he wrote in the
poem.
There then
followed a fine reading by Charles, Lucy and Dave of “On the Morning of Christ’s
Nativity”, a mature poem written at Cambridge
when Milton was
21. His first genuinely religious
poem, it was also the longest he had written so far. Joyous, abounding in
Christian and classical allusions, it contained 3 main themes: peace on earth,
angelic music and the departure of the pagan gods. In this personal thank you
offering for the infant Christ, it is said that
Milton
had come of age as a poet.
This fine
miscellany of music, poetry and drama was concluded by all of us singing that
stirring and rousing hymn “Jerusalem”.
Although it deserved a bigger audience that it got, we hope that the very
talented Live Literature Company will visit us again.
This poem was the response of a visitor to the Milton exhibits in the Church Paradise Lost: St Giles Cripplegate
Snow-floating words beset the flurried Nave In restless argument and smoth'ring drift; Condemned to snow-Fall, icy ink inscribes Perpetual winter, earth and heaven's rift.
Paradise lost! Creation's brooding Spirit Shattered, flap-feather scattered to the breeze In drift and dust dispersed; earth cursed; fear worst Of warring words, as floating fragments freeze.
When will words melt, unspelt, grace-felt, And run refreshing river – God within? When will white wings wax well and soar anew, Raising world-weary worlds from death and sin?
When, in the silent stable, child's weak cry Confronts pedantic fact with tear-felt grace; When, in the silent light of Easter dawn, The Resurrection snatches last word's place;
When, in the tunnel of trash-tainted time, Space for Eternity is glimpsed and graced; When, in the holy silence of the Nave, The one true Word of Life is heart-embraced. © Christopher Wilson 2008 |
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