Talkin’ ‘bout my generation: a lie that I (and thousands of others) swallowed hook, line and sinker

I’ve read Allister Heath’s op-ed in The Daily Telegraph . I, for one, am glad that someone has written about this – this seems, for my generation, to be the elephant in the room – the subject not broached, almost a taboo in certain contexts – for the US government has published data, which suggests that just one out of the top ten areas of employment actually require a degree.  Just one. Not five, or seven. One.

To tell the truth, I’m not shocked. I’m not even vaguely surprised at this. I think “the collective we” have, since at least John Major’s education reforms in 1992 (which began the process of creating a new wave of universities out of polytechnics and other institutions) have started to believe that university was a universal right within our national education system – in the same way that hospital admission is under the NHS. Tony Blair’s radical (and reasonably hollow) promise to get “50% of 17 to 30 year olds into higher education” (Labour conference pledge 1999), whilst great for those whose educational limits had been curtailed in previous eras by background, upbringing and geography, really set it all on fire.

I remember being in a classroom, at the time of UCAS applications, being told by our Head of Sixth Form that University was the ticket to a better life – it was what would give us the best opportunities – and that, as a school in Wales, we should all be going to Cardiff, as that was the pinnacle of academia. I thought it was just misplaced “alma mater-ism”: it wasn’t – it seemed that local LEAs, Sixth Forms and the Welsh Assembly Government were colluding to get as many Welsh students into Welsh universities - it was a political stunt by Cardiff Bay in order to keep the aspiring lower middle classes of the Valleys happy, whilst covertly supporting Cardiff as it headed towards becoming a member of the Russell Group and breaking up the University of Wales. Out of twenty four pupils in my sixth form who went to university in 2005/7, only four went outside Wales.

For the first time, tens of thousands of eighteen year olds, like me, were going to universities – some were going to places that people had heard of: Oxford, Bristol, Durham, London – but many of them were heading to institutions that no one had ever heard of such as the University of Wolverhampton, or London Metropolitan… and reading for degrees that sounded like they had come straight out of Private Eye’s “University of Neasden – formerly North Circular Polytechnic”, coming out three years later having had a great time, landed with a tonne of debt (the best kind, as promised by later to be “Prime Mentalist” Gordon “Prudence” Brown), and a degree. Well – sort of…

This is where I take issue. For I have been employed in several jobs since leaving – my first recognised my degree as it was within a university. My second was working in Musical events management (degree specific – how lucky is that!?), but my third was Events Management. I didn’t need a degree to do the third job – but they expected me to have one. My line manager certainly didn’t have one – but he expected me to have one, then couldn’t understand how/why I was able to do my job in a different way. I remember being told once that “a degree is the same as any other – doesn’t teach you anything about real work”.

But a degree isn’t the same as any other. My undergraduate degree is from a well-known college of a larger Federal university – I ‘share’ my degree award with one of the greatest conservatoires in the world, and share a degree ‘family’ with colleges that represent some of the best thinking in human rights, politics, medicine, science and technology, economics – the list goes on.

My mother says I’m an academic snob. I reply that I am. I went to a university that had a reputation for outstanding academic research, of producing graduates of high quality. I look at school friends who come out with a Thora (a third) from one of the Welsh ‘new universities’ in Sports Science … that’s not an equal footing. I’m above that. I’m not a snob in saying that: Oxbridge has always looked down on Durham, London and the redbricks, and now the spiral in higher education continues to descend.

I’m being fairly flippant and facetious but this really wiles me: I worked hard. My degree isn’t the same as someone else’s from a new university.  I didn’t only have to get three Cs and “Key Skills” to get in, and before you all shout that it’s an achievement for some people to get that – I agree with that, but are those people best served going to university?

I feel duped. It’s not Blair’s fault – he needed to do keep his base. It’s not Major’s fault – he has no clue and was trying to make things fairer (he thought). It’s all our fault. My generation’s for believing- our parents and guardians for being taken in. If I really wanted to point a finger of blame, personally I would blame my teachers – but even then, did they know? They’d been out of university and training for twenty plus years: it was different then. It was different once – and it needs to be again.

The Prime Minister, the Education Secretary and the Secretary of State for Business (as that’s where H.E matters now live!) need to look at Higher Education provision in this country. Stop messing around with GCSEs and A-Levels – start with universities: stop giving awarding powers to institutions who have failed. Stop encouraging smaller institutions to go it alone – they can’t really afford to and they can’t offer the breadth of faculty specialism.  The amount of degrees offered needs to be scaled back – tourism studies shouldn’t be a B.SC, Event and Venue Management should not be awarded a B.A. These areas – “Soft Degrees” as certain academics and Universities refer to them, should be awarded certificates or papers by assessing groups representing that particular trade or profession. When did a bunch of left-leaning, Guardian reading, sock and sandal wearing academics become experts in these fields?

We need to acknowledge the role of trades and professions again – a university degree isn’t everything. Most of all – we need to educate employers that one degree isn’t the same as another: and that they had better remember that when the healthcare assistant comes around to change their catheter twenty years hence.  

Cat breaks cover.

I think the majority of my blog readers know who I am. So I can’t be bothered in keeping up a pretence. I haven’t posted in a while, as I was wondering where I could go with this – would it remain a choral/churchy blog dealing with little gripes and garnering opinions, or should I start speaking my mind, “man up” and show some identity.

Fortunately, I’ve decided to man up. The cute pussy cat will remain somewhere as a sort of ‘Guardian’ of the page – also to remind me that there is a wider readership who may disagree. So, here I am. Buckle your seatbelts!

Meanwhile...Cat goes to Midnight Mass

Whilst the TV religion was going on, I was at an undisclosed location attending Midnight Mass. I am, fortunately, on good terms with many of those who lead worship at that place, and have had this conversation with them, so I don't want anyone to think that I am moaning (or miowing) behind people's backs, because I'm not.

What really gets my claws up about Christmas, and the Midnight Mass is this seemingly worrying proposition that it has to be accompanied by a setting of Haydn or Mozart. I'm not against this at masses, don't get me wrong, but why on Christmas Eve.

I'll illustrate the point.

For some reason, it was decided that there would be a full penitential rite - so the choir would sing the Kyrie.  As soon as the president had given absolution, we were stood up for the Gloria - all five minutes of it.
By the time we got to 'Laudamus Te', most of the congregation couldn't work out what was going on.
The readings passed, the sermon (all seven minutes) was very good. Lots of smoke at the offertory, and then on to the Sanctus....and Benedictus. I looked around at my fellow congregants. They looked bemused, half bored and half confused, a few more than half cut. They've come to sing O Come, all ye faithful, Silent Night, Away in a manger et al, and to hear that God love them, and to hear the choir sing some festive treats. After the ten minutes of Sanctus and Benedictus, we kneel for the rest, getting up at the communion. Except nothing happens whilst the choir sing Agnus Dei - that goes on for six minutes. Once we get told to go up for communion, the choir disappear to the outer wilderness to sing Britten's Hymn to the Virgin and another carol that was so depressing, I asked Mrs Cat whether we should go off and join the Romans - they know how to do a good Mass.

Now, I'm not saying we should devalue the sacrifice of the Mass, or butcher the beauty of holiness by culling great masterworks from the repertory, but we do need to contextualise liturgy and the music offered in it.  We want to hear a choir sing joyously of the birth of Christ, whilst not leaving a congregation of half-soaked (and mostly) once-a-year-ers feeling left out, out of their depth, asking themselves why they bothered to come. I'm not a popularist, and I don't like pandering - but I do think that a trick was missed at this service: in presenting a liturgy that was bloated like a poor christmas pudding, rather than something that contained a few novelties, a cracker, and indeed a good one-liner, people were less inclined to want to come. I'd be interested to get some feedback as to what you all think - I'm not saying that I'm right; it maybe that certain places can pull this stuff off better, or that we need to gain a better understanding of contextualising music and liturgy. Anyways, I'd appreciate rational (and polite) comments on this.

...and we're back. Christmas TV Worship

Again, I apologise for being late in posting. My little paws are currently covered in dried ink, having had a lot of writing to do over Christmas for other people. I hope I can share it with you someday.

Having been busy, I missed quite a bit of the television coverage for choral music over Christmas - apparently there was quite a bit of it. I managed to catch a few minutes of the John Rutter-thon that the BBC did. Wasn't really sure what to make of it to be honest - was it a "look, it's Rutter!" feature, or was it meant to be the Christmas story told through Rutter carols?

I did, however manage to get to watch in greater depth the services the BBC broadcast (not live, as I was at Mass on Christmas Eve...more on that below). There was something a little odd about both Eve and Day services - strangely, I was more comfortable with Leeds (RC) Cathedral's Midnight than Mary Redcliffe's morning Eucharist.

I thought that Leeds' performance of the Vierne was a noble attempt - but (and I write this with caution), may not have been best for broadcast. I enjoy the Vierne - it's a great sing, and superb to hear, but was possible a little too adventurous - not saying it was the wrong choice, but I would have stayed on comfortable territory repertoire wise.

However, what Leeds did during the night was, liturgically and musically a great piece of television worship. Redcliffe the next morning was something that left a lot to be desired. I know there are in the midst of an interregnum (so, why did the Beeb go there when left leaderless?), but it was an act of worship that, whilst I'm sure great for some, left me cold. I won't bore you with the liturgical quandaries I noticed, but overall, it made me ask why we bother? Sure, it's great to feel like we're in an "average parish" for Christmas Morning TV Religion - but that wasn't it. It harked back to an age where worship was confined, and clergy (with greatest respect) felt that a B.Th from Bolton gave them a "better" view on liturgy than an F.R.C.O. In some cases, it might be true, but not in that Bristol broadcast. I do hope that the BBC look to better Anglican foundations next year - there are some gems, big and small, to pick from.

Apologies...

Apologies to my readers for a lack of activity, i've been busy catching mice in preparation for Christmas.

Hope to have a few posts for you following the holidays. Whilst waiting, here's a link to the BBC News Website, talking about new and old carols: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-20838982

Merry Christmas! 

An evening in heaven...at Royal Holloway

Every so often, this cat likes to get out a bit. I was very fortunate to find myself out in Egham this past weekend as the Choir of Royal Holloway celebrated St Cecilia, with what is their traditional College Feast, preceded by a concert in its unique chapel. It was an enormous pleasure to be present to hear this wonderful choir, with its fast growing reputation both in this country and abroad. Not being ‘in London’, but out at the College’s countryside campus in Egham, one always wonders what the turn out will be – fortunately, there was a great number in the audience who experienced, like me, the varied and inspiring programme put together by Rupert Gough.

The concert opened with Eric Whitacre’s Cloudburst, a secular pseudo-liturgy in performance, including bells, piano and cymbals, enriched with the aid of the chapel’s new lighting system expressing (in various colours) the piece as it progressed.  Further along in the programme, the choir performed Vaughan Williams’ Silence and Music. These two pieces alone demonstrate the wide capabilities of this ensemble - from the more modern and eclectic, to the belt-and-braces Britishness that Vaughan Williams and his ilk present . Between these two, however was my personal highlight - the performance of Britten’s Hymn to St Cecilia. In it, I believe, the choir demonstrated an ability that many other ensembles would give their right arm for – being able to be young and effortless, whilst having a gravitas and maturity concurrently. The soloists were sublime, and the opening of the second section “I cannot grow: I have no shadow to run away from” was a thing of beauty to experience and hear - something I will remember for a very long time. It is no wonder that they are now signed to the Hyperion label

Other works from the choir’s eclectic repertoire included pieces written for them by Richard Rodney Bennett and Tim Garland, which showed the choir’s amazing skill at being able to ‘inhabit’ the repertoire they perform.

The big ‘event’ of the evening was the James MacMillan commission. He commented prior to performance that it is an important stage in a composer’s working life when he is asked to set those words to music. MacMillan did not disappoint. A work for double choir, the rich dissonances resounded through the chapel in praise of the patron being celebrated – full of rich texture, exemplifying his superb compositional skills to the max, it was received well by both singers and audience.

In a world which used to demonstrate that singing wise “The only way is Oxbridge”, the Choir of Royal Holloway has demolished that myth entirely. Their reputation deserves to ascend even faster than it already is – a choir that really is fresh faced, youthful and full of life, whilst being able to sing the most devastatingly beautiful music with the conviction that this is all they have ever done. This is a choir going places: and I hope that all who read this will listen/look out for them - they truly are a force to be reckoned with.

In praise of Shorter House

When not in quire (and certainly not using the end of the stall to sharpen my claws), I like to seek out new pieces, anthologies and tit-bits that I think might be useful. I have a great belief that we are living in a new 'Golden' Age of music-making, and that some are slow to work this out. For a little while now, I've been following the growing output of books from Shorter House, a new publishers "specialising in new choral collections and anthologies". It takes a lot for me to be bowled over, but Tom Shorter and his team really are on to something quite amazing. In a short space of time, six anthologies have appeared: three books of canticles, a book of responses and a collection called 'Sing Evensong', which, the clever blog-reader will work out, includes everything you really need to pull of a decent Evensong down your local Cathedral or Parish Church. 

I don't want to bore you all by waxing lyrical about every good point in the series, but I do want to encourage you to have a look, and certainly consider purchasing - because they really are that good!

I've just taken hold of 'Sing Evensong', which is clever in its execution: having been a singer who goes on 'jolly holidays' to sing Evensong at various places, there's only so much of Stanford in B flat one can take, so it is refreshing to see a book entirely of previously unpublished pieces which could add greatly to the repertoire. Most of it would come easily without too much practice: Anthony Baldwin's Introits If ye love me and Lift up your heads, together with Harvard based composer Carson Cooman's anthem Awake, my heart would make excellent additions to choirs of any ability. The sets of Responses all are reasonably straightforward - the set by Jeremy Jackman have some interesting harmonies, which would provide more interest than a set of Tallis or Ayleward.

A number of 'catch-all' psalms are provided to chants by Jackman, Simon Biazeck, Graham Ellis, Bill Ives and Malcolm Archer. On playing through, I found the Archer chants made me want to 'miow' along, but that may have been to do with over-familiarity with the chosen psalm texts. 

Four sets of canticles follow: Simon Lindley provides two: a Fauxbordon which is perfectly acceptable, but lacking much long term interest in my honest opinion; but following it is Lindley's Knaresborough Service which reminded me of the Herbert Sumsion style. Having played through it, it seems reasonably straight-forward, and is pleasing on the ear whilst not being full of dissonance or causing anxiety attacks for the lower parts.

David Orr's Service in E flat is something that would really suit a parish choir (with a capable organist) very well - and certainly would serve an under-rehearsed visiting choir singing an Evensong within ten minutes of arrival. Mostly unison, with some divisi, and an unaccompanied section in the middle, there is something quite quaint about its simplicity.  Certainly something to put down if time is an issue, or it's been a heavy afternoon in the pub! 

Ben Parry's Evening Canticles in G are the most challenging - certainly in need of sturdy singers and organist, but worth putting time in to getting to grips with. Brimming with energy, with some great syncopations going on, it would be a welcome relief to hear than a piece of Stanford. The one oddity is that the Nunc Dimittis is in seven/eight - certainly takes a lilt to the Song of Simeon. 

The Anthems are welcome selections - God, grant us grace by Andrew Earis (who also wrote one of the Introits) sets a text attribute to Niebuhr which offers something reflective and simple in text for a warm, summer evening. Robert Evans' Come, my way, my truth, my life is a simple setting of the well-known Herbert text. Accesible, and with a good tune, it would make a welcome inclusion into a mid-week Evensong. Will Todd (of Jubilee fame) offers an anthem that represents his compositional style. God of truth  represents a piece that would work well not only in a Cathedral Evensong setting, but also in the 'alternative' worship space. 

The volume closes with six hymns with appropriate descants and arrangements, a benediction The Lord bless you by David Orr, and concluding dismissal responses by Jeremy Jackman. 

A great little book, full of handy pieces for that unexpected or under-rehearsed Evensong. For £9.95, you really can't go wrong!