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This is a highly cropped-in shot of fallen fall foliage, in front of the last church we visited.
Tomorrow we move on to the next series, which was captured on the island of Maui. Having been to Alaska, England and Hawaii in a year's time (and, my wife and I just decided, Taiwan this coming May, which would make four trips within a calendar year), the blog these days has turned into a travel-intensive endeavor. Not necessarily a bad thing, but lends to more of the iconic landscapes, etc., of which there are already quite literally a million pictures, and which I generally avoid. Nevertheless, looking forward to sharing the blogworthy pics from "The Valley Isle"...
A closer-in shot of the sanctuary front, with quaint scene on the left and probably one of the funniest-looking pulpits I've ever seen on the right.
And this'll do it for Organ Day in Fort Worth; the next post will be from one of the church lawns and will serve as a bumper post between this and the Maui series. I'd like to publicly (as "publicly" as this blog gets) thank Jordan Yerkes for sharing this part of his life and work with us, and for spending an entire day to make my brother Mike's 50th birthday gift a time to remember. Thanks again, buddy...lots of love to you and the entire clan.
Looks like quite a different scene, featuring a pretty good reflection from the floor, a quaint scene in the background (though why it's there I wouldn't know), and all-natural light beaming in at an angle. This checks all the boxes...
It sure was nice being in all those churches while they were totally empty; being Saturday, they were very clean, allowing for reflection shots off the floor as in this one. This is the St. Stephen Presbyterian Church; the organ can be seen at center in the back balcony. Very different from the first organ we visited, which was literally up front and right in the center of the stage where the altar was, in a position to gain more attention than anything else going on during the service.
While we were up there looking around, the Sunday morning organist came in to practice for service the next day. While all that was going on I swung the Bigger Cahoona out over the sanctuary to capture a play on light, and got an all-time favorite from this day's activities (to be posted tomorrow).
This will be the last "coincidence" in this series.
Being married to the Chinese culture, I tag along whenever the wife wants to go to Chinatown (Bellaire area here in Houston) to do some grocery shopping. At the right time of year this can be an interesting experience, as they celebrate the Chinese New Year by setting off firecrackers in front of stores as a way to ensure prosperity. There's also the dancing dragons with the drumbeating, etc. Makes shopping for groceries a little less of a chore, though the crowds are much larger.
Years ago when we went shopping during the New Year at one of those grocery stores the crowds were thick with people both outside watching the spectacle and inside to shop. While the wife shopped I'd stayed behind to watch some of what was going on when a girl of about four bumped into my legs. I said "Excuse me" in Chinese. The girl looked up at me, let out a little gasp, and ran off. I didn't think much of it.
Well, unbeknownst to me the girl ran straight to her mother and told her that there was a white guy over there that could speak Chinese! (and unbeknownst to her, it was one of only very few phrases that I knew at the time) She took her mom by the hand and dragged her over to where I'd gone, by which time I'd caught up with Chenjean and her sister.
Instead of looking at me, her mom took one look at Chenjean and let out a squeal. Turns out they were classmates in Taiwan! Very interesting turn of events...they caught up and talked for about 20 minutes before everyone went their way.
The rest of the posts in this series feature just a few snapshots that I thought might be better than average...
Today is my son's birthday. Happy birthday Andrew!!
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This "coincidence" takes place in Wilmington, Delaware. I had joined the church of Christ the previous summer, and while visiting family up north was looking for a congregation for Sunday morning worship. The first one I found was a small African-American church near downtown. It was a service I won't forget because there was a baptism that day, and since there was no baptistry in their little building we all got into our cars - every one of us - and drove in sleet and rain to one of the larger congregations in a suburb of the city.
After being let in, there were about 25 of us waiting for the baptism when someone got the idea that we needed to sing a song. Then the idea hit that I would be the best person to do the song leading! I'd never done anything of the sort, but nervously got up and had them turn to "How Great Thou Art", figuring that I had a smaller chance of blowing it with one that I knew well from childhood. This was my very first song-leading experience, but certainly wouldn't be the last, as I later became the regular song leader for the East Main Church of Christ in Nacogdoches, on and off, for four years.
The following Sunday I decided to attend service at that larger church where the baptism had taken place, since it was closer to Dad's house and less of a hassle to drive there (it had been snowing with icy conditions). I arrived just before service and it was crowded so took a seat in the very last pew.
After the last song was sung and we were dismissed, a girl my age sitting with her family in the pew in front of me stood up, turned around, looked me in the eye and asked, "Are you from Orange, Texas?" After my Yes she revealed herself to be none other than Pam Mansell, a 7th-grade classmate whose father, like mine, had also transferred to Wilmington with DuPont some years before. Not that much of a surprise, though, since between Orange and Wilmington the DuPont world isn't so big...
I'd be sure there's a story behind why a wooden hand was carved into this ornamental piece, and why it is pointed downward. Everything about these things must have some sort of symbolism and meaning in the church's history.
Today is my daughter's birthday. Happy birthday Allison!!
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This, the third in a series on coincidences, happened during college at SFA in Nacogdoches. I lived in Dorm 16 for several semesters, and during the fall of my sophomore year ate my meals at the circular East College Cafeteria that was between us and Dorm 14, often with a friend named Robert. Kidding around I used to call him "Bo-Bart".
That winter break I went to visit Dad and family in Wilmington, Delaware, and while there made a little side trip by myself for a few days to Washington to take in the sights. While roaming around I spotted the White House and decided to take a tour. This was in 1978 or 1979, when it was basically just a matter of walking through the door if you didn't mind waiting in line.
After having toured the East Room, the line wound around and ended up going through the walkway adjacent to the Rose Garden. As we moved along I noticed someone that was familiar-looking behind me. I took a closer look and, standing right behind me, there was Robert! I said, "Bo-Bart, what are you doing here!?" He originally had been further back, and after moving ahead in line hadn't noticed that his lunch companion of the previous semester was right in front of him! As it turns out, at SFA he was in the ROTC program and was in Washington doing something related to that. The following semester we got a kick out of mentioning in front of our friends about "the time we met at the White House"...
While Mike and Jordan were doing their thing I was left to wander about with my companion, the Bigger Cahoona. We had a good time capturing shapes, patterns, and interesting plays on light. All hand-held, of course, and in the darker interiors it was a challenge...lots of bracketing and retakes.
This was a shape that caught my eye, one of those times that I knew immediately how it was to be cropped in post-capture.
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Many would say that the story in yesterday's post is an example of coincidence. But I've come to differ, having concluded that there is a purpose and plan in every interaction we have with others. Some come about to give us joy, others a challenge or test. All part of a Plan to teach us during our short stay here.
But it is interesting when these things happen. Yesterday's post was about an organist I'd known as a teenager in Beaumont, then again several decades later in Houston when we ended up in cubicles next to each other. This next "coincidence" happened in the very same building.
As a youngster I attended the Trinity Lutheran Church in Orange on 16th Street, about a block from where we lived at 1512 Chapman. (I learned recently that the place is now a Baptist church)
Once in a while at this church we would have guest musicians. One of the guys that occasionally would come and play the trumpet during service was named Alan, a teenager that was a peer of my older brothers. I remember this guy standing in front of the congregation doing his thing on the trumpet. He was known as being especially gifted in music.
Well here we go. Alan grew up to become a dentist, and established his practice guess where...in the very building where I worked, in Houston! And it was none other than David the organist that let him know of space available in our building and brought him there! So here I was in a cubicle next to David the organist from Beaumont with Alan the trumpet player from Orange doing his dentistry six floors above where I was working in Houston.
This guy is the biggest organ that Garland built and installed. After playing on the manuals and pretending to be real organ players we spent time crawling up into the guts of the thing to see how it was all put together. Really an amazing sight...very intricate and modern, with lots of computers and electronics behind the scenes. And huge. One ladder went up a full forty feet, the height of some of the wooden pipes producing the lowest frequencies.
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I cannot be in a place like this without thinking about something that happened a while ago, when I was a teenager. My family in Beaumont attended the Trinity United Methodist Church on Harrison Street, near the Longfellow Apartments where we lived. In the fall of 1976 the church decided to broadcast the Sunday morning service on KFDM, Channel 6. They installed a microwave unit in the belfry to throw the signal over to the station a mile or so away, converted a closet to house the switcher, and positioned three broadcast cameras in the sanctuary - camera 1 was in the back balcony that could capture what was going on in the front of the sanctuary; camera 2 was in another balcony above and behind the pulpit, smack dab in the middle of the organ pipes and directly across from the balcony where the organ and choir were; and camera 3 was a remote (not manned by a camera guy) off to the side for another view of the pulpit.
I volunteered to be part of the effort and was very fortunate to get camera 2 as my assignment. During the service it was my job to capture what went on below when the acolytes did their thing, when communion was being served, etc., and also to capture the organist at the right time, panning across the choir while they sang. Always loved organ music, and to be in the middle of all those pipes while everything was going on was awesome. And I liked the organist's style - deliberate, determined, and not shy about cranking up the volume when it was time. His name was David, a gentleman in his late 30's or early 40's at the time, I would guess.
But that's not the story. In 2002 I got a job with an outfit in Greenway Plaza here in Houston, and was assigned a place in a cubicle farm on the fourth floor of one of the buildings in the area. Guess who ended up in the very cubicle next to me...David the organist from Beaumont! We'd both gone through life and changes in circumstance and careers, and here we were in a different city - Houston no less - next door to each other. David had retired after 41 years playing the organ and moved on to other endeavors, eventually landing at the same agency where I'd found a job that spring.
See pic below of yours truly, age 18:
Small world, many would say...
The remainder of the pics in this series will be of church interiors that I went off and shot while Mike and Jordan did their organ thing. We visited three and I don't remember which ones, so won't attempt to name them; suffice it to say they were in the Fort Worth/Dallas Metroplex area.
Different angle of these windows below:
Don't know what was in them, but these frames were stacked high; this was just the top portion of the pile.
My best friend from college, Kevin, has a son, Jordan, who is a professional pipe organ builder. My younger brother, Mike, is a pipe organ fanatic. So, when he (my brother) turned 50 I decided to arrange for a tour of the shop and some of the organs that the company built, installed, and maintain in DFW-area churches. We drove up one weekend back in October and made a day of it, and a good one it was. Jordan and his family really went out of their way to make it a meaningful experience, and I'd like to thank them publicly - as public as this blog gets, that is - for making our visit one of the highlights of Mike's year.
When one thinks of organs in churches, there is a stately image that comes to mind of a robed organist playing away in an ornate setting with beautiful singing voices in accompaniment. And that's true if you go to the churches. Knowing that to be the image, Jordan warned us that the shop where they're built and tested is just that - a shop, full of tools, shavings of all kinds, sawdust and piles of stuff everywhere, and the loud noises of construction. That's just what we wanted, though...the churches thing would be just gravy.
And that's how it ended up. Both Mike and I were fascinated with the shop and being able to see the inner workings of how those incredible instruments are designed, engineered and built from scratch. There was an area where Jordan fine tuned, "voiced", the pipes, another area where the cabinetry was made, a place where the intricate wiring and circuitry was prefabbed, and yet another area of forty feet in height where the instrument was partially assembled and tested. We could have stayed all day.
But there were other things on the agenda. Only a few pics snapped in the shop will be included in this series (just this and the next two posts), as I'm careful to not include things that might be proprietary. Most will be of the beautiful environments in which the finished products are operated, and it was in those places where we spent the most time.
This is the last post of York, and the last from this 159-post/217-photo England Series. Awesome trip. Thanks, Andrew, for taking the time to come with me!
NEXT STOP - FORT WORTH, TEXAS, to Garland Pipe Organs, Inc.
In spite of the weather, which was cold, windy and drizzly, there was a festive atmosphere along Petergate and Stonegate Streets as we made our way through town, and it was crowded. (If you hadn't noticed, most of the street scenes in previous posts of York are tilted up to avoid all those people.)
At one point we saw a bubble machine churning away, offering opportunities for some unique images. Wasn't easy, though - because of the wind they whipped by pretty fast so it was next to impossible to grab a focus on just the orbs. Because the clouds in the background didn't offer as much traction for the autofocus system, the shot above was easier to capture the bubbles than the one below, which grabbed the brick or wall texture instead:
Bicycles built for two are neat. Bicycles built for three are neater...
At first I thought this was a gargoyle, but learned that the purpose of gargoyles was to funnel water. Just angels watching over things...
This will be the last post featuring York Minster. A great place to visit if you get the chance.
Next up - street scenes on the way back to the car.
Another candle shot - this time of candles through some iron latticework.
Am really drawn to candles in churches as a subject of stills. The brightness of the flames keeps the shutter speed fast, depth of field is more noticeable and easy to manipulate, and they are almost always in a setting that is beautiful. Some of my favorite posts of all time feature candles. The purpose of these things is a mystery to me, but parishioners treat the lighting and handling of them with such reverence that I do my best to stay out of the way and not distract with shutter noise, etc.
Focus-shifted shot below of same scene:
It was possible to get much closer to these guys that were lining the various hallways of York Minster. And seeing more detail led to questions such as, Is there significance in the fact that the right shoe is exposed in the first two here, and not so with the guy in the background? Two of these guys are holding a book - presumably a Bible - and the other not...does this denote rank or position within the church? (Can't help but notice that the one without the book is elevated to a much lower position.) These observations stir curiosity but surely are of no consequence to the men inside.
Regardless of the symbology that may or may not be there, it remains that all of these crypts are exquisitely carved and in themselves great works of art, rivaling anything seen in Greece's Parthenon, the Louvre in Paris, or created by the cultures of Asia. Definitely worth the trouble of visiting York Minster if you ever get the chance.
This guy passed away in 1614; of interest here is the use of Old English not too long after Shakespeare's day. Having been raised to respect the deceased by walking around their graves - thus not tromping over "hallowed ground" with the soles of your shoes (or feet) - I found it a surprise that they buried people under the floor of a church where people pretty much have to walk. Reflexively, when possible, I avoided any stones marked like this as well as one or two adjacent to the inscription.
This guy was actually stationed in the wall between two rooms...
This guy is not reposing in the usual sleeping position like the others, but rather inclined in a pose much as the Romans might look around the table of a feast. Still at rest, perfectly relaxed. I don't know much about Catholic tradition but find the hats of the higher-ups to be interesting, and noticed that the top-most carving is identical to what's on this fellow's head. And the cane behind him on the wall doesn't look like a walking cane, so suppose it to be what he walked with or carried as part of some ceremony during life.
Now for the death. Lots of dead guys in this place - along the walls, as part of walls between rooms, under the floor. These are fascinating because every crypt and sepulcher tells a story. This guy, for instance. He obviously was a venerated holy man, and loved his dog. His expression is friendly and mellow. His vestments are properly arranged, and you can tell what style his shoes are. His pillow even looks soft, thought it is literally made of stone. If the inscription weren't in Latin I bet it would tell us something of his greatness. A lot of money was spent in preparing his burial place, and though we don't know him one can tell he was a good fellow.
Death never did bother me too much, and I have never taken it as seriously as many would think appropriate. But fact is, our earthly death is just a crossing over.
And it can also be fun. Ever play a graveyard prank on someone? In Scouts we sure did. And one time my best friend in college, Kevin, and I decided to prank some kids having recess on the grounds of an elementary school on Mound Street in Nacogdoches, Texas. Yes those innocent kids had no idea what was coming their way, because at the time there was a funeral home right across the street from their campus. I had just bought a plywood board for a construction project in my dorm room when we passed by and got an idea.
The drive at the funeral home sort of wound back behind the establishment, so we pulled in so the kids couldn't see us. Once out of sight we rearranged that board to lay flat using the front dash and the back seats as support. I happened to have an old blanket in the car, and after Kevin laid on the board I threw it over him. Then slowly we crept out of the drive and rolled by those kids nice and easy so they could get a good look.
Don't know what their reaction was, or if even they noticed us, but we had fun doing it...in fact so much fun that Kevin could not stop laughing even when he was supposed to be dead!
Learned that this is one of the largest cathedrals in Europe, and sure looks it from this and many other angles captured during our time inside. Certainly not what you see here, but some form of the church has been here since before the 10th century.
There were several options on tours once you get in, but we chose the most restrictive and cheapest since we didn't have that much time before driving on to Manchester.
If it weren't so cold and windy we would have been up there with the pair close to the top. Though this was the first week in September, the weather resembled what we experience on a raw Houston winter day...
And now for the object of our visit to York - York Minster. This is about as close to the tower as I could get and capture the whole thing; shot below is from across the street:
