Showing posts with label Holy Trinity Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Trinity Church. Show all posts

Tuesday 15 September 2020

Let's take a pew


Sometimes, don't you think,  it's nice to just sit and reminisce and get away from the stupidity of the day... Now let me see ...the one on the left resembles a former Labour MP who, whilst elected and sitting in the Commons, had part-time jobs as correspondent for the Guardian and the Spectator, a weekly column of gossip and tales in what he no doubt considered a humorous vein, all with that nauseating patronising flat Yorkshire working class "common sense" voicing. The guy as I recall went to Hull University, his dog, notoriously, chased and caught and killed a goose in a park. Anyhow this fine example of how grammar schools elevate folk spent his whole political life in a party that wanted to abolish grammar schools. (For the record and to show my bias I too went to a grammar school which was abolished, abolishing grammar schools ruined the education of thousands, improved the education of none and sank our standards down to medieval times, there; is that clear enough for you? To be fair though it was Mrs Thatcher and not Labour who abolished Grammar schools perhaps history should be spelled IRONY, you do know that Labour PM Wilson closed more coal mines than Thatcher but that's old irony and water under the bridge...). where was I? Yes back to our cherub cheeked friend, I recall he had a tendency to dribble as elderly folk sometimes do (or did, since no dribbler would be allowed on the media these days). I suppose he imagined he was doing good works, they always do, his sort. He was Old Labour, a schemer in the days of smoke filled rooms and deals done behind people's back between over powerful and undemocratic (dare I say corrupt?) Trades Unions and scared Governments. In his days he was considered right wing by those who considered themselves on the left; in reality the chicken had no wings and couldn't fly, was plucked and heading for the oven. When Blair came along he moaned from the left as Blair, well Blair was in different playground altogether (and playing a different game) ... He also said that he would never take a peerage (that, for those from foreign parts, is appointment to our unelected second legislative chamber, the Lords) but you know how the tide turns and inevitably he took the ermine and became a baron (Don't you love how progressive this country is: from snotty kid in Sheffield to a baron of somewhere in Birmingham, you see the system works!) I just can't remember his name what was it now ? Let me look him up ... Oh Yes, I remember now; Roy Hattersley (Lord Roy of Sparkbrook, that's it) and Buster was his dog. Strange how the memory brings up a complete nobody from the past ... is that the smell of madeleines? Time for some tea and cake I think, shall I pour dear, one lump or two? Do you think it will rain?

Here's two figures carved onto the seating of Holy Trinity in Hull, their appearance, though somewhat grotesque, is nowhere near as twisted as today's reality or indeed the fading memory of our youth.

Thursday 23 July 2020

Dear God,

Hi, how ya doing? Thought I'd drop you a line since it's been a while, well it's been a lifetime since they dipped me in that old holy Roman Catholic water and drove the devil and all his works from me ( we were having such fun) but in terms of the infinite less than just a tick. I know my mum (How's she doing, btw? I'm sure she's up there with the saints and all, what with all her faith, damned unbreakable faith) tried to point me in your direction dragging me off to church each Sunday and Holy Days of Obligation (nipping me when I was bored and naughty and sitting when I should have been kneeling) even sending me to a Catholic School ( no priest took a fancy to me sadly or I'd be much richer than I am today) but I got to six years old and it wasn't going to stick, sorry old chap, no hard feelings, eh?  ...
So I heard you were unwell, well I heard you'd died (was it really 'pity' that saw you off, was it? or something less serious? the nauseating Postmodern relativistic morality and the happy clappies and the apostasy of women priests would drive anyone off a cliff) I assume those reports were an exaggeration and you're just going about your merry, mysterious way; giving folk freedom will then punishing 'em for using it (teehee!)... 
Now if you're thinking your hearing has gone a bit dickey recently and that it's gone a bit quiet down here, no it's not you it's (who else?) the Government (you don't like 'em either? They think they are your gift to humanity, please tell them it isn't so, go on do a bit of smiting you know you want to. Do they tax you too and put you in a gag when you go shopping? I know, I know, where's it all going to end? Now don't pretend you don't know ... I can feel you smirking even behind that face muzzle) Anyhow they only went and closed the churches, first time in centuries even the old Black Death (thanks for that by the way) didn't close 'em. Yersinia sends her regards, I hear she's out in Colorado living with some squirrels but she always was a wild one.  So, yeah erm things are a little quiet down here atm, folk wary of each other, scared to admit that they really don't think this little flu thing (was that one of yours or have you outsourced plagues and pestilence to China?) is a big thing and they'd love to get on with their lives but the schools are closed ('til September, teachers can't miss their summer holidays can they?) so someone's got to stay home and look after the brats, and the shops are going to be a test if you turn up bare faced, as you intended, and the nauseated worriers play up and start moaning, I swear I'll take a stick to anyone who bugs me (I am, as you know, without sin so they'd better watch out) ... but you got your troubles I got mine, it's been good to talk, catch you again sometime, don't be a stranger.

Your old mate ,
                          Bill


Monday 20 July 2020

Deserts of vast eternity


The cunning plan to make Hull's tenure of the title of UK City of Culture as miserable as possible seems to be working ever so well. Above is what used to be called Holy Trinity Square but no doubt due to changes in the political climate is possibly called Perfidious Albion Plaza or Mea Culpa Square or some such. Those of an age can maybe recall the neutron bomb and how it was to take away the people and leave the buildings (a wonderful device) ... Anyhow thousands were spent clearing it up, installing mirror pools, plans made for food festivals and so on and they had to go and invent a plague just out of spite. They need not have bothered I wasn't going to go anyway.

The statue of Andy Marvell still stands, though really the viral iconoclastic nonsense of pulling down statues seems to have peaked and died away here much like an English summer. I read that this MP for Hull during interesting times (civil war, regicide, restoration and what have you; OK not of interest to everybody I know...) was a master of self-preservation. I wonder what the man who wrote this:
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power...
would make of the servile, bedwetting, safety-first, neurotic, mask devouring cowards that want to impose their fear upon us all. But then maybe he too would mask-up, rub in the alcohol gel and conform; self-preservation, dear boy, self-preservation. Gah!

Sunday 2 February 2020

Never Fails to Disappoint


I knew that the light show in town was going to be a dull affair, I'd read what folk had said about it on social media. Still nothing could quite have prepared me for how truly insipid and utterly pointless the installation called Navigate would be. This was being put on by the Council to mark the start of the Hull town council's latest £24million trick to pull in punters by calling itself Yorkshire's Maritime City, frankly they need not have bothered... and if this is a measure of what we can expect then they should give up now and go lie down in a darkened room.


We'll start in Queen Victoria Square with something called Zenith, supposedly an "immersive sonic landscape of the sea". It was eight or so silly lights and some indistinct noise that might have been music or just random noises on a looped tape. It put me in mind of a dismal 1970's disco.



Next and not moving far at all is something called Meridian: four beams of light from the City hall. Wow! Just wow ... maybe a Gee! as well but mainly just wow ...


Oracle I posted before in its daytime slumber. It gets no better illuminated. It too had some rumbling noise to go with and the white light points to the direction of the wind. But as the Bard sang so many years ago you don't need a weatherman to know which way the money goes  ...


The crowning  inanity award has to go to this automated drum machine outside Holy Trinity church, going by the name of Pendopo. I read that its metallic percussion was inspired by east Asian drums and not by the thought of easy money from a Council lacking two brain cells to rub together.

The most impressive light show, however,  was nothing to do with this tawdry pathetic nonsense; the church behind was all lit up in varying hues but hardly anyone paid it or Andrew Marvell any mind. I'd like to see those lights from inside the building, through those massive windows, now that might be worth the bus fare ...

                                                   



Still it didn't take more than ten minutes to see what little there was to see and the trip wasn't a totally wasted journey as I managed to do my shopping in Tescos and get the things we could only get from town.

Friday 10 January 2020

... and carry a big stick.

As if having authority from the almighty weren't enough church authority by the middle ages had sought a more temporal power to keep the great unwashed in order and to organise the day-to-day business of hatching, matching and dispatching the god fearing (and, no doubt, feared by god) populace. To that end arose the position of virger or verger and obviously such a position requires a staff of office, the virge, basically a big stick quite possibly used to clout the unruly in to behaving themselves. Here's Holy Trinity's verger with his ornate magic wand with the triple crowns of Kingston-upon-Hull ... 

It's all really quite silly, this quasi pagan vesting authority into a stick (God's rod; the phallic imagery is clear, is it not or is that just me?) but then you see it popping up all over place not least in our Parliament and town councils with their fancy maces which have to be present before any business can be carried out. Parliament even has its own verger, Black Rod, by royal appointment. All utterly ridiculous or verging on it.

Friday 13 September 2019

Hull Moon


The Church of England having long ago given up being in the god-bothering trade is now trying to pull in the paying punters with silly stunts. So Rochester Cathedral had a mini golf course installed while Norwich erected a helter-skelter slide with the aim of seeing the place differently. I mentioned a few days ago that this place, Holy Trinity, was hosting a Michelangelo exhibition; this follows on from last year's giant inflated model of the moon suspended in the nave. I believe they also have a real ale festival and a gin festival as well though not at the same time.


Meanwhile God does not play dice but is unbeatable at whiff-whaff...

Tuesday 13 August 2019

Talking of Michelangelo


Which is it: is man one of God's blunders, or is God one of man's blunders?
                                                                                                 Friedrich Nietzsche

Anglican God Services Inc., have let it be known that they will be putting on a display of high definition photographs of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in their local office in town (whether they have paid for the rights to Papist God Inc. has not been disclosed.) It will, of course, feature this famous scene where Man creates God in his own image (if only he hadn't all would be well and all manner of things would be well). They haven't said whether Heston and Harrison will be on hand to sign autographs and maybe sing a duet or two, I know they're both dead but death shall have no dominion as we all know.

Entrance to the peep show is free but you will need to get a ticket ...

Friday 28 June 2019

Holy Mackerel


It's been a while since I posted anything piscine related to the Hull Fish Trail. To rectify that omission and as it's Friday here's part of a small shoal of mackerel lurking for a passing sprat no doubt. You can find them at the eastern end of Holy Trinity church where Lowgate turns imperceptibly into Market Place. They're carved out of sandstone and have been in the pavement and walked over by the passing throng since 1992 or thereabouts and are getting a bit worn out and easily missed.


The Weekend in Black and White is here.

Monday 10 June 2019

You don't know what you've got till it's gone ...


What you've never had, I suppose, you'll never miss. So future new visitors to Lowgate might wonder at older folks shaking their heads and sighing a little at the loss of the 1970s brown glazed façade of the block opposite Holy Trinity. Gone forever now the near perfect reflections that any and I guess every local photographer and tourist snapped up on their first trip around town ... I know old empty offices serve no purpose and folk need places to live and poor threatened landlords die such a painful death without income ...and all the rest... so anyway here are new apartments whose occupants will no doubt complain about old folk pointing their crooked fingers at their windows, shaking their heads and sighing.


Well, OK then just once more ...  for old times' (and old timers') sake ...




*Shakes head and sighs*

Saturday 13 April 2019

C is for ... Carbuncle


C is for Capitalism,  
The bosses' reactionary creed,
                                                                                   Alex Glasgow Socialist ABC

Some may recall Burnett House, how it was restored from dereliction only to stand empty for years and then found not just tenants but a home for a lonely buddleia. It has come to pass that Burnett House now feels it needs to spread its wings with an extension. Fine you might say, the land adjacent has been empty for 40 years or more so build something in keeping with the old building and the low rise Georgian/Victorian neighbourhood, something that respects the area and the view of the medieval church behind. You might say that but the stupid Cs in Hull City Council only went and passed plans for the most hideous, oversized, out of proportion, disfiguring monstrosity. Well see for yourself ...

Image "borrowed" from the Hull Daily Mail

In times past I might have hinted that silver had crossed palms to enable this to go through but after being told, by a Councillor, that such an idea is preposterous I have to conclude the current Council planning numpties are dumb enough to think this is a good thing all by themselves and pat themselves on the back and cannot understand how they might be wrong. Consider how a planning officer, employed by the Council, could say, in advice to Councillors, that the proposal would "preserve the character and appearance of the Old Town Conservation Area and would not substantially harm the setting of Hull Minster".  Clearly such a person is not living  by the same aesthetic standards as mere taxpaying mortals. For the sake of the future appearance of this backwater might it not be a good idea to put the said planning officer out to pasture where he/she will not harm the setting of the town any further.
 

Friday 12 April 2019

B is for B*****ks!

B's for the Boss who's a Bastard,
A Bourgeois who don't give a damn.
                                                                                              Alex Glasgow Socialist ABC

Today, April12, 2019 might have been (well, it was never really going to be since the bloody Commons took away the only bargaining weapon left; to leave without a deal.)  Brexit Day (Mk2). After a whole two years and more of bungtwaddle from our elected bellends the UK remains as firmly locked onto the Brussels' boobies as ever. We've had bilious backspang and bafflegab from those who treat the majority as something smelly on their boots. All this has left sensible folk somewhat bamsquabbled or bamblustercated if you prefer. It's all a load of buggery-boos, as my old dad would sometimes exclaim.

B-Day Mk3 is pencilled in for Hallowe'en ... no, seriously it is ... Booo!






Thursday 4 January 2018

O where do we go now but nowhere


The final show, as it were, of the Year of Culture was a series of installations scattered about the town each consisting of several robotic arms that were supposed to move around with lights and sound (I believe the term 'music' may have been used, but it was basically just eerie noise). This junk was titled "Where Do We Go From Here?" and is described as a "thrilling mix of art and technology" ... the blurb continues "...At a time of political uncertainty at home and abroad, it also asks important questions: What kind of place do we want to live in? What role should culture play? Where do we go from here?" There's more (isn't there always?) "Where Do We Go From Here? , is a deliberate provocation designed to get individuals reflecting upon their city’s future. It invites everyone to take part in a timely conversation about art, culture and society." Yada, yada, yada ...
I came upon this very unmoving piece  as they were obviously fixing some kind of fault, so it wasn't working. However later I did cross paths with a different installation that was in full flow; the arms had lights attached and waved about a bit and there was sound to go with. (Gosh, how very sixites I thought, when robots were just coming into the work place and were seen as menacing ... ) An enthusiastic Hull person (there are some, well, at least one) grabbed me by the arm and exclaimed how brilliant and fantastic it all was... I'm afraid I used language that the clergy do not know.

So the Y of C ended not with fireworks, nor yet with a whimper; it just fizzled out possibly from exhaustion or, more likely, boredom... (Officially there was no celebration because (& I paraphrase) "It's not over yet, there's still more to come and, and ,and ..." yeah, yeah, we paid already) The gang of imps, pimps, banjo players and blow-ins from the world of Culture Incorporated responsible for this fest of dreck were all dutifully gonged by Queenie over the New Year and have not been heard of since... And while Hull is still City of Culture for another three years attention will now pass to poor old Coventry. Oh yes! the birth place of Phillip Larkin (damn Hull did him first, still...)... and Lady Godiva and, and, and ... aint culcha fun?

Thursday 28 September 2017

Stop traveller whoever thou art ...


... and look upon him now dead who when alive it were better for thee to imitate Thomas Whincop an unparalleled example of divers sorts of science sound judgement probity of life indefatigable industry charity humanity and piety. A choice servant of God a most dearly beloved divine and one who worthily merited the love and remembrance of all good men who after he had served the most high above the space of seventy four years diligently executing the offices of an honest man a prudent citizen and a vigilant pastor at last full of years and honour he resigned his soul to God waiting for the resurrection of the body who though now dead yet liveth. All that remains. Go reader! as God's glory is now his reward so his example thine. 

That's what the little plaque says, only it says it in Latin 1. There's more in English about his days at Cambridge, his wives, his sons and their wives and his daughters and their husbands (and so on ad infinitum) but that only spoils the effect of this fine encomium.

This is the memorial to Rev. Thomas Whincop, a former master of the Hull Charter House, in Holy Trinity church. Old Whincop died in 1624 and did nothing that need concern us in these glorious days. I post this because I liked the little skulls and also it bears a more than passing resemblance to Shakespeare's memorial in Stratford which dates from around the same time.



1 Quisquis es viator siste atque hunc intuere mortuum quem vivum satius tibi initari erit scientioc multiplicis profundi judicii vitae probitatis industriae indefessoe charitatis comitatis pietatis exemplar singulare Thomam Whincop eximium Dei servum charissimum theologum omnium bonorum memoria et amore dignum Qui opto maxo plusquam 74 annos servivit integerrimi viri sapientisfimi civis vigilantissimi pastoris officii fatagens annorum tandem samoe gratoe satur deo animum reddidit corporisque resurrettionem procstolatur atque etiamnum mortuus vivit Tantum est vade lettor sua mercesest creatoris gloria paradegma tuum.

Saturday 29 July 2017

BBC Proms at the stage in the dock


I mentioned that last Saturday that along with the Hull Folk Festival Hull was also host to the BBC Proms held at the little stage in the old dry dock. Those without tickets could listen from the footbridges at each end or turn on the radio or download it from the wonderful web.






Classical music may not be to everyone's taste and I captured the leader of Hull City Council making a early getaway; perhaps Morris dancing was more his thing. I'm sure he'd cut a fine figure dancing a jig in a shirt and baldrics with knee-length breeches and bell pads or more likely just playing the fool.

Tuesday 4 July 2017

Suffer the little children


So now there are eight reflection pools (at great expense)  in the space outside Holy Trinity Church now known as Hull Minster (which has more resonance?). Anyhow these are supposed to give people a "chance to reflect on their busy lives and their place in God's world". We could reflect that this space was used as a weekly market place but Hull Council decided against such a vernacular use and it has stood empty for twenty or more years. Yeah, well whatever: the people of Hull are now left with eight square puddles that refill every now and then and not surprisingly those who like that kind of thing like that kind of thing.


Wednesday 3 May 2017

... and still we wait


The promised fountains in Queen Victoria Square have yet to materialise. We are told by a Councillor that "The technology used to operate these features has not been used anywhere else," and "So in that sense they're unique. Issues around that technology are being addressed.". Now as far as I know fountains have been around for thousands of years; how difficult can it be? You have water, you squirt it through a hole, repeat process until bored... These however are fancy fountains with bells and whistles, well coloured lights anyway as you can see in this article from a well known local newspaper. If I were a gambling man I'd put a small wager on these things working on and off for a season or two then being quietly forgotten and paved over.


...and also outside the Holy Trinity Coffee Bar the so-called mystical mirror pools are also still not in place (surprise, surprise) and guess what the reason is? "I can safely say nothing like this has ever been seen before in this country, if not Europe. I prefer to call them glazed paving. They are going to be mystical, magical and I hope quite special...." says the guy who sold these puppies to Hull City Council and "They are definitely the first of their kind in the UK and they're here in Hull." Yeah right, puddles with knobs on, can't wait.

Thursday 2 February 2017

The Flensing


Here lies the cold carcass of Holy Trinity Square scraped clean of history, of character, of any interest whatsoever. It's as if an old  familiar face with  laugh lines and creases has been botoxed to oblivion so there is no possibility of a smile. Deathly dull doesn't begin to describe it. Two and a bit years ago I said this would be "a tacky, crass and short sighted act of vandalism"; I've not had reason to change my mind.  A sign on the church door says the place is closed while it is being transformed into a coffee bar and in the Summer there'll be small reflection pools (reflecting the sheer emptiness of the place I suppose). I can't wait.




There's seating and then there's these things as well.

Sunday 25 December 2016

Tangled up in blue


Over in Trinity Square the finishing touches to this year's marathon makeover were being put in place the other day. I noticed this figure wrapped in blue plastic. It's the reinstated statue of Andrew Marvell. This seems to be a more modest presentation as previously he was atop four or five steps and surrounded by four concrete balls. Naturally those steps were the place for alkies and druggies to while the day away. Where will they go now, those poor souls?


And jumping over to the other side of town to the junction of King Edward Street and Jameson Street this was the scene late on Wednesday still with a rush to complete by Christmas Eve. Still with the old orange barriers and still a fair few paving blocks to be laid. I haven't been back since then but the local paper reports that Jameson Street, off to the left, is now clear of barriers though the response from readers seems somewhat mixed.


And as ever a job is not done until it has been seen to be done by at least five other workers ...

If you've reached this far it only remains for me to wish you all a "Happy Whatever It Is You May Be Celebrating" this exceedingly mild December 25 ...


Wednesday 6 April 2016

Maybe things are never as bad as they seem


Here's a rather (too) large panorama of Trinity Square showing the work (ha!) in progress. Andrew Marvell has long gone, the church wall is history as is the large tree that stood on the right of the doorway and those uneven paving slabs of the church yards are probably in somebody's garden as I write. The good news is that the awful Trinity Square layout with its ridiculous seating and tedious brick paving are also gone. Also, in October last year, plans to build a lean-to restaurant up against the church exterior were shelved due to lack of funds; yet another of those things that were planned but are now (thankfully) not going to happen. 
Now as far as I can tell the plan is to install something like the image below which I've borrowed from the council's public realm document. I leave it to you to imagine how it will actually look. There seems to be only the vaguest of ideas as to what use this space will be put, cafés and seating and 'events' are mentioned but I don't see that being much different from the present use and that is spectacularly hopeless. If this were any other cathedral city, and let's admit that church is almost as big as a cathedral, it would be surrounded by a cathedral close with many tourist attractions, little stalls, entertainers; something to keep people interested. Here we get the same old "Seating will be installed and again pavement cafes will be encouraged " Pathetic! I doubt that after the initial interest has waned there will ever be that many people in Trinity Square, the odd stray duck perhaps, sitting in those silly little ponds.


Wednesday 10 February 2016

While I was away


I've only been into town once in about two months or so, so I missed the official opening of this, the C4DI building, that is going to be the fountain of so many brilliant ideas that we will all live happily ever after in a digital wonderland. While the future maybe bright the once gleaming brass skin is already going a bit grubby, sorry, that should read gaining an impressive patina. Work is well under way on the rest of the site and the old dry dock is finally dry with some sort of construction going on in it.