Heritage Interpretation

Guestwick Church - 'Creation' Window

2010-04-03T00:05:00.003+01:00

Guestwick Church - 'Creation' Window

I wrote this for another blog of mine, but thought it would 'fit' here too...

It was a beautiful day. After a seemingly perpetual winter, the sun was shining at last and the sky was blue. As I walked towards the church I paused to take notice of the buds straining to burst into life. It was not a tranquil scene though, as a raucous community of grey-hooded Rooks was wheeling around in the sky, cawing to one another incessantly like inky delinquents. Dave and I agreed that we were very lucky to find ourselves approaching Guestwick church on such a day as this.

Every church has its treasures - though, in some instances, you may have to look a while before this is revealed! We had read our Mortlock and Roberts church guide, and, thus, were very curious to discover evidence of the earlier Norman cruciform church which is hinted at by a fossilised gable and other evidence on the exterior of the church. However, fascinating though this is to our antiquarian intellect, it was a new addition that surprised and delighted us.

As you can see in the photographs above, an exquisite new window - intended to celebrate the natural life of local creatures and, in a wider sense, creation - provided a feast for our eyes. Having enquired about this to the Revd. Veronica Wilson, the Rector of the parish, and the Churchwarden, Robin Back, we now know a bit more about it. The 'Creation' window was conceived and constructed by local resident, stained glass expert and glazier, Adam O'Grady. It was installed on the 26th January 2010.

Robin Back described to me thus:

"First and foremost it is a donation to the Church and Community of Guestwick and each pane has relevance either to the church or to village life. The obvious symbols of the Lamb and the cross Keys of St.Peter are at the top and surrounded by other symbols including the sun, the moon and the dove of peace. The other panes represent creatures of God which mostly are local. Bats, birds, hares and rabbits, snakes, newts, frogs and insects, trees, leaves, ferns and plants, fish, squirrels, owls and butterflies... The list is seemingly endless. The whole is a metaphor for creation and its infinite richness and variety, also its beauty which we can see all around us."

Local people are hoping to organise a parish picnic to celebrate the donation of this window in July. This church continues to be a part of the community and develops through the love and inspiration of those who care about it. Adam O'Grady has given us a wonderful gift, and cast new light within his community. Here is a thing of beauty which makes one stop and take notice. It has provided a focus which, both, connects the local community and inspires visitors like us to get in touch - as well as to write these words.

Standing in the light of this window Dave and I ruminated upon the sense of achievement, pride and wonder which must have accompanied the creation of the church and its treasures throughout its life. All these old things were once new, and, in their time, someone would have laid down their tools, and then stood back to admire their work. Thus, a wonderful new window stretched our imagination and we were able to empathise with those largely anonymous people who made this special place and bequeathed it to us, in what was, with hindsight, an utterly beautiful transient blue-skied present moment.

Guestwick is a richer place thanks to Adam's gift....

A Sense of History in Irestead church

2010-01-16T20:52:00.002Z

On a cold, wet wintery Saturday in January 2010 I travelled to Irestead church with a couple of other Historical Interpreters. Here is a short tour of this wonderful church given by Paul Greener. In my view, a sensitive and authoritative presentation. Furthermore, what is so impressive, to my mind, is the fact that this was completely spontaneous and unrehearsed.

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Active Listening Skills

2009-10-31T01:50:00.003Z

Effective listening is central to high quality interpretation. If the Interpreter is to facilitate the special experience which we aspire to, then we have to be open and responsive to the visitors. Listening is a key communication skill. It is not just about what is being said, it's also about being sensitive to the total message. Listen to their body language; show that you are listening (facial expression; verbal responses); provide feedback; don't interrupt; assert your responses sensitively but honestly.

One technique I use is to ask the questioner their name, thereby showing respect and value to them. I then attempt to repeat back their question to the whole group; both, to check that my understanding is correct, and also to include and involve the wider group. Remember, at this stage it isn't necessarily incumbent on the Interpreter to attempt to answer this. It might be more interesting to throw this open to others, and see where this leads. When doing this, it is vital to listen closely, and to, in effect, 'chair' the discussion, to ensure that it is purposeful.

In these dynamic and improvisational moments there is always a tendency for the Interpreter to start clock-watching, or to become pre-occupied with getting back on time and theme. I think that an awareness of this 'thought chatter' is key; you can't really listen if you're preoccupied with what you're going to say next. Remember too that thoughts move about four times as fast as speech, so you do have time to 'think on your feet' whist talking anyway - use this 'lag' to your advantage. It is a crucial part of our skill set to have to make judgements and edit in the moment. Being present in the 'now' is really important too, in order to enable effective listening to take place.

And if, like me, you struggle sometimes with auditory short-term memory, then practice the 'echoing' technique. This involves repeating what the person is saying to you in your head; a means of active listening.

Another important skill is to allow people long enough to have thoughtful responses. Research suggests that this pause for thought can be as long as fifteen seconds. Now, this doesn't feel very comfortable when you first do it, but it does allow people to formulate responses, and gives them space to join in.

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* Thanks to Stewart Alexander for prompting this discussion - as ever, his on-going quest for improvement and excellence continues to be an inspiration to me.

Loddon History Society

2009-07-16T00:02:00.005+01:00

Today, I gave a talk/presentation to the Loddon History Society, entitled, "Disorderly Lives in Tudor and Stuart Norwich". There was a really good turn-out, and the material was well received and I enjoyed myself very much. Many thanks to the folk of Loddon for giving me such a kindly welcome! The fact is, whatever interpretative glitter one may add to such a presentation (my first Powerpoint by the way!), the quality of the material means that it's a hard gig to muck up.

I must admit, over the last few weeks I have really immersed myself in research for this one. It has been like finding an old friend. I've found myself thinking about the people in the records, and wondering what happened to some of them. Our glimpses of them are so very fleeting. In preparing for this, I've also delved deeper and wider than I had hitherto - especially, by reading and re-reading secondary sources which set things in more of a national - or at least, East Anglian - perspective.

As a result, my understanding of Early Modern Norwich, and its governance has developed considerably. However, in many ways, I now know enough to realise just how very little I do actually know. I've got a lot more work to do - and I'm gonna do it

In Memory of Reginald Dack Baker

2009-06-23T00:53:00.006+01:00

Pages from the earliest volume, 'Human Abattoirs'.

A few years ago I acquired a remarkable collection of six volumes; the work of a local man, Reginald Dack Baker, who held the belief that the medical establishment was involved in a conspiracy to kill innocent people by means of electronic rays. Although born in Norwich, Baker had emigrated to Australia, and in August 1914 joined the Royal Australian Field Ambulance Service. He went on to serve in, among other fields of conflict, Gallipoli and the Somme. Finally, in 1918 he was pensioned out of the forces, having been diagnosed with neurasthenia ('shell shock'). Having set up a successful grocery business in post-war Brisbane, at some point in the mid 1920s Baker was committed to a mental institution ('Goodna' is one of the establishments where he was incarcerated).

From reading his account of this time it is clear that he underwent electro-shock therapy - a standard treatment for victims of 'shell shock'. At this point in time, I don't know whether or not his preoccupation with malevolent authorities abusing electronic waves predated this terrible - and terrifying - ordeal, but, if not, it must certainly have been a catalyst for what was to become a lifelong obsession.

Anyway, I have just set up a seperate blog where I will try and bring you some of this story. Click on the following link to find out more -> William Reginald Dack Baker

Labyrinthe

2009-06-12T23:57:00.007+01:00

Some spaces are demarcated as being special. For me, a labyrinthe is one such special space, symbolising a journey or pilgrimage. Not a maze with dead ends; rather, a journey with an end point - a very different thing.

This afternoon I took some time for myself and ambled down to Norwich Cathedral cloister, below the blue sky and caress of sun. I stood facing the labyrinthe in the garth, and took time to slow down. I sought out a sanctuary - a symbolic space where I could unclutter my thoughts and distance myself from my petty concerns. Sometimes, as the old saying goes, solvitur ambulando (it is solved by walking)...

For me, walking this space is akin to a Tai Chi form: focusing my mind solely on the movement as I move through the 'ritual' of the labyrinthe helps to bring about a state of mental calm and clarity. Afterwards, I sat down in the cloister, face bathed in sunlight, and wrote down some of the reflections I'd had prior to 'losing' myself in the nowness of the journey...

Private time in special places can be a very rewarding and creative experience.

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Remember, You Are Part of the Story too...

2009-02-19T22:49:00.010Z

My strength is my weakness. I am an enthusiast, but with this comes a danger; a danger that I will bombard audiences and batter their senses. There's a danger that I will 'talk over' the special places, when I should be facilitating sensitive responses to these spaces. However, whilst recognising these potential pitfalls, I still see this passion and energy of mine as an asset. Harnessed in the right way, it can be infectious.

Good interpretation requires an honest self-audit. Our uniqueness - unscripted and spontaneous - is a massive part of 'the story'. The other day I was listening to a young man describing the way he used to visit the site of a Roman town, virtually every day. Without any self-consciousness he went on to describe the way that Nature came to accept his presence there. In the sultry summer evenings he would be the only human presence, whilst Little Owls stood like sentinals on the fence posts, swooping occasionally to catch insects on the wing. It was magical.
"This should be part of the story you tell when talking about Roman history," I suggested - and I meant it!

In my own work, it is not unusual for me, in a change of tone, to describe how I found out what it is I'm talking about. For instance, once, when describing the tragic devastation of a community in the 1666 plague, I was able to recount how the handwriting of the Churchwarden recording the deaths , abruptly changed. A few lines further down, their name would appear alongside those ubiquitous letters, 'pla'. I described how I this made me feel; how the stories of dead generations touched me. This is bringing history alive.

My advice is this: dare to be yourself - use who you are. Don't be afraid of personalising the narrative and revealing who you are, and how you feel. In my experience, people respond positively to this human touch.

Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten - Arvo Part

The Mind & 'Voice' of Herbert de Losinga

2009-01-30T00:19:00.013Z

As you may already be aware, I don't tend to concentrate my attentions on the 'great' and the 'good' of Norwich history; partly for the simple reason that they tend to get enough attention as it is. However, when I get the opportunity to read the letters of one of the great figures of Norwich history, dating from nearly 900 years ago, then I feel bound to investigate.

Today, I spent some time in the wonderful Norwich cathedral library reading through some of the letters of the first bishop of Norwich, Herbert de Losinga (Goulburn, E.M. & Symonds, H [1878]: 'The Letters and Sermons of Bishop Herbert de Losinga). I find it amazing that we are still able to access the mind of a man who has been dead for so very many years (d. 1119). It felt like a kind of mind-time portal. This is what literature can do! In part, this is because through these letters we see different facets to this man - including, perhaps, surprisingly human[e] qualities. I think that, in this, we also recognise his humanity, and are able to relate to him across all those years and all that cultural chasm

Here are some examples:
To two of his novices, with whom he regularly corresponds, he writes sternly,

'I reprove your indolent and sluggish want of exertion.'

However, he is also capable of warmth, and encourages young Otto and Willelm to, 'write to me therefore in poetry, frame verses, compose odes, sing in metre and rejoice the heart of your aged friend by cultivating the muses in every form. Henceforth I will sit as judge of your compositions and criticising your poems will prepare a palm for the conqueror, a punishment for the careless.'

We hear another side of de Losinga - the wrathful Lord of the church - when he writes about people who have been killing his dear in his park at Homersfield near Thetford:

'Meanwhile I excommunicate those who have broken into my park and killed my deer with that anathema wherewith God in His anger smiteth the souls of the wicked [...]. May the curse and excommunication rest upon them in their homes, in the ways and in the fields, in the woods and in the waters, and in all the places wheresoever they be found! May the flesh of those who have devoured my stag rot, as the flesh of Herod rotted...'

Finally, in what Oliver Rackham describes as the earliest known statement of woodland conservation in English history, de Losinga writes to William the Monk:

'As to making a present of Thorpe Wood [present day Mousehold Heath] to the sick, or any one else, I gave you no orders, nor do I give now, nor will I give any; for I appointed you the custodian of the wood, not the rooter up of it [my emphasis]. To the sick, when I come to Norwich, I will give as I did last year, not logs of wood, but pence [...] Guard the wood of the Holy Trinity, as you wish to be guarded by the Holy Trinity, and to continue in my favour.'

I can't recommend the cathedral library highly enough. It is a fabulous resource, with welcoming staff, so go see - and discover! - for yourself.

Andrew's Stone... Andrew's Story...

2008-12-07T03:34:00.007Z

To really see something you need perspective. The best Interpreter's walk around their subject, thinking about angles and possibilities - not just facts. We are, after all, in the business of stretching minds, and encouraging and activating a sense of wonder from our interactions with others.

At the end of one of my previous entries on this blog (see HERE for original), I begin to explore the wonder-ful - and I use these words in hyphenated form, advisedly - possibilities inherent in the simple idea that objects and things in the real world of human cultural heritage are in some way shaped from within people's heads - their imaginations (or sometimes, in moments of epiphany, their dreams!). In the conception, they might not fully realise that interior 'vision', but, as we look around us we are, in a sense, looking and passing through mind-scapes of dead generations. We cannot know the mind of our contemporaries, or even our own minds fully - let alone those of long deceased folk; but we can, nevertheless, reach out and begin to feel for their presence. That is why, when I see the mason's mark in the form of the saltire cross, present at both Norwich castle and cathedral, my thought is, 'that's Andrew's work... it's in the shape he intended' - and I touch it.

I remember an English teacher of mine once explaining that, for her, literature was a form of time-travel; a kind of time-capsule transmitted - and in the reading, interpreted - in an exchange of minds between people who can never literally meet, but who are able to meet, virtually, through literature. Is that possibility true, also, of a carved stone? It's amazing enough to think that Andrew stood in the yard next to the Lodge and carved this stone; amazing that he was actually there and real... that he was the last person to place it here, perhaps - that it is still here 900 years on. At the same time, I can definitively state that, for Andrew, it was workaday activity. He probably took pride in what he did; especially being part of ventures which saw new kinds of buildings - power-projecting Empire Buildings - rising up above, presumably, awe-struck local inhabitants. Although he did as he was told by the Master Mason; although he was, a cog in the wheel, his stone was, and is, an expression of him - shaped as he saw it. And he, in turn, was an expression of what we now know as Norman culture and architecture. It's a peopled story...

In so many ways the chasm between the cultures of Norman and contemporary England is vast. I assume that much is lost in translation. But an absence of evidence should not render us mute as we seek to understand and interpret the past, for, as the maxim goes, absence of evidence is not necessarily evidence of absence. Although in our research we need to sort, sift and be critical and challenging, this should not lead us to disengage. We need to imagine, and be imaginative in our approaches. Like Cosmologist's in their field, we need to be artist and scientist, simultaneously.

Drowning Sorrows or Brewing Up the Beast...

2008-12-03T23:55:00.009Z

'And a man once drunk with wine or strong drink rather resembles a brute beast than a Christian man. For do not his eyes begin to stare and to be red, fiery and foam at the mouth like a boar? Doth not his tongue falter and stammer in his mouth? Doth not his head seem as heavy as a millstone, he not being able to bear it up? Are not his wits and spirits, as it were, drowned? Is not his understanding altogether decayed? Do not his hands, and all his body vibrate, quaver and shake, as it were, with a quotidian fever?'

Such was the opinion of Philip Stubbes, writing in the later 1500's ('The Anatomy of Abuses', 1583). Certainly Dean Suckling of Norwich Cathedral would concur with this view...

2nd November 1616
'Dr Suckling, dean, did admonish Ellis Goodwyn, now dwelling within the precinct, having the office of blowing the organs [ie his job was to manually pump the organ bellows - thirsty work it seems!]. The said Ellis being upon the 25 October last so disguised with extraordinary drinking that he was for that and other abuse of himself then and there set in the stocks; that hereafter he should carry himself more soberly, under pain of loss of his said office of Organ Blower.'

Around the same time, the renowned writer, Thomas Nashe, warned of eight different states of drunkeness - the worst being the 'goat drunk', who, 'has no mind but lechery'...

1615
'Martha Cambridge accuse[s] Ben Wright: [that] you did come drunk into my house with your prick hanging out of your breeches like a horse and offered to break down the door when I was forced to shut it on you.'
[Transcription: David Tonge, M.A]

However, not every contemporary voice was united in condemnation of alcohol:

'Ale doth comfort the heavy and troubled mind; it will make a weeping widow laugh and forget sorrow for her deceased husband; [...] it is the warmest lining of a poor man's coat; it satiates and assuages hunger and cold; with a toast it is the poor man's comfort; the shepherd, mower, ploughman, and blacksmith's most esteemed purchase; it is the tinker's treasure, the pedlar's jewel, the beggar's joy; and the prisoner's loving nurse.' (Richard Younge, 'The Drunkard's Character', 1639.)

Perhaps, as one historian has commented, 'alcohol was the essential narcotic which anaesthetized men [sic.] against the strains of contemporary life' (Keith Thomas, 'Religion and the Decline of Magic', 1973).

Although we always have to handle the evidence carefully - misdemenours are 'captured' and rendered, perhaps disproportionately, visible by the surviving records -, it would seem that drinking and drunkeness were a central feature of life in Norwich during the Early Modern period. I've got some fantastic 'street level' stories from Tudor and Stuart Norwich, which illustrate some of the - all too recognisable! - scrapes that people found themselves in due to such excesses as described above.

Several years ago I told some of these stories - to great acclaim - during a one-off 'Norwich Tippling House Tour' I gave to a private party (it even included a one-man play - or skit - performed by my good self to the bewilderment/entertainment of the assembled crowd!). It's a shame that I have so much material like this gathering dust. After all, my former colleague, Dave Tong, and I worked very hard to bring this to the light of day.

However, I am glad to say that some of this material will be aired during a session I'm giving in the New Year, entitled, 'Disorderly Lives in Tudor & Stuart Norwich'. It's quite a story!

Booton Church

2008-08-25T23:17:00.005+01:00

Great forces of history are all very well, but sometimes it is the spark of a single person's unique vision and imagination which changes things in surprising ways. I make this statement having visited the church at Booton twice over the last week. Located near Reepham in Norfolk, I just had to go back in order to confirm that what I thought I'd seen really was there - and it was!

What we have here is what might be described as an eccentric Victorian 'folly'; an eclectic jumble, tumbling from the brain of the Reverend Whitwell Elvin. Words really fail me on this one - go and see it for yourself!

Heckingham Church

2008-08-07T17:39:00.010+01:00

A visitor emailed me asking about the location of the arch at the head of this blog. The answer is Heckingham; or, more particularly, Heckingham church, sister foundation to the more well known church at Hales. These two are archetypal examples of small rural Norman churches. Their riches were preserved by the poverty of their parish/parishes - they were never modernised and 'upgraded'. I am not alone in thinking that Heckingham is the more atmospheric of the two churches (see Simon Knott's wonderful site, and, in particular, his description of Heckingham).

Isn't that arch - with its fabulous beaker mouldings, chevrons and various other Norman embellishments - absolutely fantastic. Here's a doorway which, if wood and stone could speak, would tell some tales. Nearly 900 years of life has passed this way. This passageway of 'hatching, matching and dispatching' is all about life and death, and its journeys and phases. So go get yourself an OS map and drive down some narrow lanes in south Norfolk and allow your mind to wonder as you stand in the doorway; allow yourself to become a small part of its story.

The First Few Minutes...

2008-06-15T08:24:00.010+01:00

Expectations...

The venue where the tour is due to take place is unfamiliar to you. You arrive with only a few minutes to spare, slightly flustered. You might previously have been on a number of tours/talks at heritage sites, or this might be a new experience for you. Perhaps you have a level of expertise in the subject to be covered, and you are slightly anxious that the guide will be 'lightweight' or - heaven forbid! - inaccurate. Maybe though you are new to this subject, and you are worried that it will be pitched above your head, and that you will be made to feel stupid. Other, slightly weary travellers, might have previously encountered the tweed-clad guide, a curious creature whose sense of equality leads them to recite everything they know about a site, regardless (!). The list of scenarios is almost endless...

So, faced with all those different thoughts in all those different heads; faced with that array of different faces all focusing on you, how are we to begin?

A Great Greet...

Before the formal delivery begins, it is crucial to engage and to be engaging. Ask people where they've come from, if they've been here before. If possible make them laugh. Be relaxed and be receptive. This isn't just good in terms of enhancing your visitors' experience, it also provides you with crucial information that might require adjustments to what you are going to say, and/or how you're going to present it. I try and have some 'sweeteners' for children. This might be a curious object, food for thought, or even, quite literally - food! If you win over the children, the parents are delighted and the group relaxes.

Advanced Organisers...

I think that orientation is key. People learn better when they're relaxed, and when they know, broadly, what's coming. So it is important to signpost at the outset what we are going to say and where we're going to go, as well as how long it will take. So once the Adanced Organisers are set out, what next?

The Opening Line...

Yes, I know that, technically, the Advanced Organisers are the opening line, but, spiritually (if you will) the opening line starts when the substance of our interpretative experience begins. And how important it is to get this right. As I seem to be focusing on the cathedral a lot, here's one opening line...

'We value this building because it's ancient now, but it was new once - and perhaps that was a problem.'

I like this one. It's a counter-intuitive perspective. I can assume that most people have turned up for their 'tour' to focus on the old-ness of the building, not to think about it as it once was - new. It immediately invites us to stretch our historical imagination, and looking at the venerable old building through this prism we are (potentially) taken to new ways of seeing it.

With Questions - When We Know Nothing...

2008-06-06T18:16:00.008+01:00

A gargoyle of sorts. A corbel carved into an ugly, twisted pug-nosed face. It looks like it has horns. Is it a devil? If so, what is it doing within the sacred space of a church? In this 'special' and highly symbolic space, nothing is for nothing; everything means something. Do we need to have prior knowledge in order to decipher this code, or can we decode it from its context?

I wonder how old it is? How would we date it? Perhaps we could look at some of the architectural features, such as the arch of which it is a part. Does its' age matter though; does this make a difference - and if so, then why?

And who, I wonder carved it? If I were to tell you that this was carved by Peter Blandon who was 47 years old when he carved this, some six hundred years ago; and that he died less than a year after this was completed, falling from some scaffolding just a few feet from where you stand - would this make you look again?

If, on the other hand, the stone has no provenance, and its' creator remains anonymous, is our engagement any the less. Our imagination is beginning to stretch, and we are 'seeing' beyond the facts and surfaces, into possibilities. However, It is still amazing to think about the actuality of the carved stone; that someone imagined this, and brought form to it, and that it has survived them for so long. Amazing too; all those countless eyes, of all those 'invisible' people who have looked up into the eyes looking down upon them. Who are the 'ghosts' who once responded to this presence, as we, in turn, respond to it now. And strange to think too that we - so real and now and matter of fact - are tomorrow's ghosts standing here. It is amazing, is it not, where wonder can lead you to...

Encouraging Reflection

2008-05-18T16:50:00.009+01:00

In this short piece I reflect upon some of my thinking about how an interpreter/educator may encourage people to open up and be receptive to significant environments.

Activated & Activating Spaces
I am interested in our current understanding of past people, places and events and I am always on the lookout for ways to improve my work as an educator/interpreter, working in significant sites.

We can invest places with meaning. The knowledge that a specific event took place right where you are standing connects you with it, making it a different - and significant - place for evermore. However, it is not just about what we/I bring to a place/space; it is also about encouraging a group to be receptive to the environment which surrounds them. In short, then, we may activate spaces and be activated by them.

Listening to Spaces
This receptivity to surroundings does not just happen spontaneously however. In our hustle-bustle, bean-counting, word-obsessed (hyphenated!) contemporary culture, people are often not at all comfortable with slowing down and 'listening' to a space. Furthermore, so many educators talk too much, focusing only on facts. I think we miss so much by adopting the 'chalk-and'talk' approach.

A statue of St Benedict, stands outside Norwich Cathedral (see above). He carries a book on which is written the word 'Ausculta'. This is the first word of the Rule of St Benedict, the regulations which governed the priory of that monastic order, and it means 'listen'. A thousand and five hundred years after he first offered this as a starting point we can learn from his counsel.

Working alongside Saul Penfold and Jill Napier from the Norwich Cathedral Education & Community Learning departments, I have been developing educational experiences for school groups, which aspire to facilitate 'listening' within the cathedral.

In doing this we suggest a degree of stealth. For instance, we have had some really positive results from walking the labyrinthe in the cloister garth at the outset of the tour. To give an example, it might be that we prime the experience with a discussion about pilgrimage. Or perhaps we might have done a brief guided visualisation, asking learners to close their eyes and follow the sound of a bell into silence and think about the monks processing on their way to one of their eight daily services in the cathedral (the Hours). We ask them, then, to walk in silence, keeping order as they journey through the labyrinthe.

So we pass from an imaginative exercise to processing (ie learning by doing) in silence. This is proving to be an interesting meditative tool, transforming the behaviour of, say, groups of hitherto disengaged teenagers. In my opinion, this approach is entirely transferable to adult and Family Learning.

Another interesting idea is to stop the group as they walk the labyrinthe, and say, 'You're walking in someone's dream.' Intruiging (sic. can't spell the damn word!) statement, don't you think... we leave them dangling for a short while, and then - reveal. The woman who designed this labyrinthe, Jane Sunderland, had been wrestling with ideas for her creation, but just couldn't find 'the answer'. Couldn't, that is, until one night she woke up having dreamed about the shape we're now walking through. You could extend this notion of tangible things coming from inside people's heads. It's another way of looking at the everyday; seeing it afresh - realising the wonder that is there if we could but see it.

Thanks For Turning Up - Norwich Cathedral (Saturday May 17th 2008)

2008-05-18T16:27:00.003+01:00

Well, it is done and delivered - 'Monks Meals & What We Eat Now'. A successful partnership between Norfolk Adult Education and Norwich Cathedral Community Learning!

There is a principle of English law that says that 'no man [sic] shall be a judge in his own case', but from where I was, it felt like a really positive experience. The verbal feedback I received confirmed this impression. Without overdoing my extensive bank of terrible puns, one thing that came across from participants was a real appetite for this kind of experience. Glen and I are interested in exploring further our work together in this field, and I hope that we can do some more of this in the future. If anyone who was there reads this, Glen and I would like to say what a fantastic group you were to work with/alongside (I use the latter word advisedly!) - MANY THANKS!

I am not sure of how many attended at this point, but it must have been about thirty, which is great. The weather was a bit chilly at times, but at least it wasn't raining. When the new Hostelry building opens next year we'll have the option of ending in a nice warm room. On the other hand, I believe in the power of presence. The authenticity of the blocked door is powerful once imaginations are activated. Perhaps if we shivered a little as we considered the near absence of heating in the cathedral, we shiver alongside the memory of those who have passed/past before us.

I enjoyed working alongside Glen very much - not everyone is so easy to work alongside (Little & Large, as some wag commented afterwards ;-) ). I think that bringing the historical and the nutritional perspectives together in this way is very interesting.

Anyway, having talked about all that food I'm flippin' hungry. However, having reflected on the effects of obesity on the medieval monks, I am reminded of the words on the grave of a Norwich man, Joseph Jones, who died in the 1700s. Here's his epitaph;

Here lie the bones of Joseph Jones
Who ate whilst he was able
But once overfed he dropped down dead
And fell beneath the table.

Welcome

2008-05-18T16:04:00.000+01:00

About me...
My name is Colin Howey. I am a passionate advocate of lifelong learning, and I also believe that people thrive in the light of positive expectation. I love laughter and learning (especially when combined!), and I am fascinated by language and communication.

I have a beat-up photo of myself as a toddler stroking a sparrow. Unfortunately, in my early years that gentle touch was soon beaten out of me by 'events'. I think, in many ways, my journey is about rediscovering the sense of wonder and sensitivity which stops the bird from flying away.

My work...
I am trying to develop my work as an historical interpreter. This blog is one of the places where I reflect upon my practice, and invite comments from visitors and practioners.