Lent III, Mothering Sunday, 30th March, by Dorothy Webster

It is surely not possible for the created to have a gift that the creator does not have.  God is the greatest musician.  My achievements as a musician are miniscule, but I have served music in other ways.

I grew up in a village near Whitehaven, a small town on the cumbrian coast.  My parents were not musical or rich but when I was ten there was a miracle.  A beautiful baby brand piano came to our semi-detached house.  My elder sister, 16 years older than me, played hymns when she visited.  The long stool was full of printed music.  With this, for 7 years, I taught myself to play.  There were no teachers.

One day in Sunday School, I had to say a long Psalm by heart.  My reward was a bible.

The only live music was singing hymns in Chapel.  My favourites were “Eternal Father Strong to Save” and “All Things Bright and Beautiful”.  As a storm arrived from the sea, 2 miles away, I prayed for those in peril.  I knew the purple headed mountains at Wastwater.  God was in the beauty of nature and its power.  

I sang in the senior school choir with joy.   My uncle, who was the only person we knew with a wind up gramophone and six records paid for my singing lessons with a kind elderly gentleman, Mr James Bond.  In 1952 he entered me into the Whitehaven Festival.  The adjudicators were Michael Head and Eric Thimas, both professors at the Royal Academy of Music.  They encouraged me.  Miracle No 2, I became a student at the Academy from 1954-1957.

I was 18 when I arrived in London, a nobody knowing nothing, but I had May Blyth as my singing teacher.  She found my soprano voice.  I had never heard an orchestra so sat in all the rehearsals.  I sang in the large mixed voice choir.  For me the biggest thrill was to sing Vaughan Williams’ Sea Symphony with full orchestra.  The great composer came to our last rehearsal and was pleased.  For these Academy years and many more Michael Head and Eric Thiman became my dear friends.  Each wrote a song for me.

In his early 50s Eric Thiman began a ministry of music to the congregation of the City Temple, the only free church in the City of London.  He did this for the rest of his life.

The church on Holborn Viaduct  was destroyed in the blitz.  The people were bombed out of 8 churches and 1950 were sharing a building near Marble Arch.  The minister Dr Lesley Weatherhead went on a lecture tour of America to raise funds for the rebuild.  In New York he stayed with Mr and Mrs Rockafella who gave him a cheque for $50,000 dollars.  Eric designed the organ for the new church which was opened by the Queen Mother in October 1958.  Doctor Weatherhead was the first Doctor of Divinity to also be a fully qualified Psychiatrist.  In rooms at the top of the building he had a clinic for any one in mental distress.  He wrote 20 books and had a great sense of humour.  His inspirational sermons were often punctuated with laughter.  Jesus became alive to me and I became a church member.  The 30 singers of the choir were led by a professional quartet.  For 7 years I was the soprano.

In 1963 Miracle No 3.  I married William David Webster, Principle Double Bass of the LPO.  Our 3 daughters arrived punctually.  From leaving the Academy I had always taught in schools, starting choirs.  Now I had a break but sang in the church choir whenever possible.  Eric Thiman died in 1975.  The church needed an assistant organist.  An incredibly gifted, beautiful young lady was appointed.  Anne Marsden Thomas.

My husband Bill Webster was the servant of the world's greatest music.  Every time he put the bow on the string was the best he could do.  The orchestra went on long foreign tours, Northern Europe, Russia, India, China, Hong Kong, Japan x 2, Australia x 2, America x 3.  At home there were concerts in the Festival Hall, recordings, proms, Edinburgh Festival, and for the 3 months in the summer Glyndebourne Opera.  For many years he was Vice Chairman of the Orchestra and Fellow of the Royal College of Music where he taught.  My main job was to look after him and our family, but I taught for 10 years in a small Catholic school for girls where some of my colleagues were nuns.  Sister Laura and I enjoyed discussing our faith.

My spiritual home was a church in Bromley.  The organist, my friend, Derek Williams.  When cathedral choirs have a holiday, they must be replaced.  Derek had a special group of singers who did this.  He invited me to join them.  We sang at Durham (my favourite), Ripon, York Minster, Worcester, Ely (my favourite) and Canterbury.  For many years we did repeated visits.  To sing in those glorious buildings was awe inspiring and food for the soul.

In April 1989 Bill and I went to Madeira for a weeks holiday before Glyndebourne rehearsals started.  As usual he went for a swim in the sea.  There he had a heart attack and died.  The memorial service was full of kind words and beautiful music.  I have a book in which great conductors, artists, members of the orchestra and ordinary people wrote of their shock and sorrow at Bill’s death.

I was in a dark place.  Bromley needed a new shopping mall.  My church was rubble.  Now Miracle No 4.  Anne came to see me and invited me to join her singers at St Giles as an unpaid 2nd soprano.  I did this for 20 years with joy.  To work with Anne again was incredible.  I was surrounded by loving kindness.  Kirstie the soprano and Suzanne the alto are still my dear friends.

I started a new career training individual singers for concerts and competitions.  I was invited to become the conductor of Beckenham Ladies Choir.  This small group gave hour long concerts to church groups and care homes.  With time and training the numbers doubled.  Full of confidence they became ambitious.  2 evening concerts and a Christmas concert in the large parish church were added to the diary.  These concerts were a platform for performances by gifted instrumentalists.  Each concert raised £1,000 for charity.  We did this for many years.

I had been a widow for 7 years when I married Ken Thomas.  He was Welsh, had a fine baritone voice and a sense of humour.  We had a beautiful service in St Giles and Ken joined me in the family home.

I was busy in my later years.  Cathy my eldest daughter and 4 years later, Amanda my youngest daughter both came home to have their babies.  I was the happiest hands-on-granny ever, but I kept my commitment to the singers, the choir and Ken who died in 2017.

At the beginning of lockdown I asked mezzo Emily Gray and her accompanist Nicole Johnson to record songs by Michael Head and Eric Thiman as my thanks to them for my life in music.

Michael Head composed 100 songs.  “The Ships of Arcady” was published before he became a piano student at the Academy.  10 years later he was a professor of piano, being sent all over the world as an examiner for the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music.  He also gave masterclasses and recitals of his songs, singing to his own accompaniment.  Many of Michael’s songs have been recorded but non of Eric’s 50 songs have been.  The two written for me are on the list, but my favourite is “The Silver Swan”, Eric’s perfect setting of a short anonymous poem.

The Silver Swan, who living had no note
When death approached unlocked her silent throat
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore
Thus sang her first and last and sang no more
Farewell all joys, O Death come close mine eyes
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise

I asked Amanda, my daughter, a professional artist to paint the portrait of the swan for the cover.  The record is available from streaming sites and Convivium records.

Tomorrow I will be playing the piano when Margaret comes to sing.

My bible is valiantly trying to keep its hard covers on.

And this morning, as always, my dear Anne, Elizabeth, Penny, Amanda, Robin and Louis have given me a vision of the beauty that will be my heaven.