A Canterbury tale

Where St Augustine came to bring Christianity to the Anglo-Saxons, where squirrels and robins dart among the ruins of his Abbey, where ancient Kentish kings and bishops sleep and the holly red and green glistens in the rain, a leather shroud, split open like a pod, exposes to modern eyes the skeleton of a young woman.

Centuries and a museum’s glass case separates us; mortality and silence connect us.

It is a sobering welcome to Canterbury where, like so many pilgrims before me, I have come to see the Anglican Communion’s Mother Church, Canterbury Cathedral, and to visit the memorial — the original shrine is long destroyed — of St Thomas a Becket, martyred by Henry II’s knights in 1170.

Founded in 598, a year after St Augustine’s arrival in Kent, and flourishing until its dissolution by Henry VIII in 1538, the Abbey is now a magnificent ruin, one could almost say literally dissolved, its remains melting into the damp earth. Upon learning it once possessed a renowned library and scriptorium, I fancy the remnants of walls, gatehouses and foundations could, if seen from a drone, even resemble faded calligraphy on green parchment. What would it say, I wonder?

This latter thought proves prescient as we walk to the nearby cathedral, also established by St Augustine, and enter to discover its hallowed surfaces have been defaced by graffiti as striking and luminous as its medieval stained-glass windows.

Further inspection reveals this apparent sacrilege to be an art installation entitled “Hear Us” — graffiti-style graphics pasted onto pillars, walls, and floors throughout the cathedral, with handwritten questions to God from community workshops led by poet Alex Vellis and curator Jacquiline Creswell.

It is as provocative as those onsite artworks by Antony Gormley and Giles Blomfield, as traditional as the centuries of graffiti carved into the same surfaces throughout the cathedral. “Why is there so much pain and destruction?” one graphic says. “Is this all there is?” reads another. Legitimate, age-old questions given fresh voice. It works. And, after all, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

As all cathedrals invite one to do, we look up. The soaring, slender columns and fan vaulting of the late Gothic nave are dizzying, dazzling. We look down. The wooden carvings of the quire are sensuous, tactile, the 1990s Portland Stone floor smooth, comforting.

We descend. The stolid Norman pillars and carved capitals of the 11th-century western crypt lead the eye to the site of Becket’s shrine and the stained-glass depictions of saints and sinners in the Trinity Chapel.

We rise. Blomfield’s 1986 installation Martyrdom, a jagged cross flanked by swords and a monolithic stone altar standing against the wall of the North West Transept mark the exact spot where Becket was murdered.

Of Canterbury Cathedral there is of course much more to say. But, despite its obvious beauty and sanctity, I must admit to being somewhat underwhelmed, considering its reputation. The cathedrals at Ely, Peterborough and Litchfield proved to be far more impressive — though their stories are for another time.

After quitting the cathedral, we repair to our exceedingly comfortable “stable” room at the Grade II-listed 15th-century inn House of Agnes, thus named for its association with one of the characters in Charles Dickens’ novel, David Copperfield. Refreshed, we then head back out onto the cobbled streets to explore more of this UNESCO World Heritage city.

From the Stone Age, through Roman and Jute and Saxon settlements to becoming the main city of the Kingdom of Kent and the beating heart of Christianity in Anglo-Saxon and medieval England, Canterbury boasts an extraordinarily rich history.

Unfortunately, we have just one full day here allotted to us, of which visits to the abbey and the cathedral take up the most part. So apart from strolling through the city to look at other sites of historical interest, such as St Martin’s Church — one of the oldest churches in the world in continuous use — the medieval Westgate Towers, the gardens by the River Stour and what remains of Canterbury Castle, we choose to focus on the Beaney House of Art and Knowledge. After all, with a name like that, how could one resist?

And indeed, our curiosity is rewarded by this quirky art gallery, library and museum housed in another Grade II-listed building. For here is the history of local heroes Basil Brush, Rupert Bear, Bagpuss, Noggin the Nog and Ivor the Engine. Exhibitions of art by David Hockney, Anthony Van Dyke and famous Canterbury-born artist Thomas Sidney Cooper. Museum displays of ancient objects and examples of taxidermy, even a mummified cat, much of it drawn from old Cabinets of Curiosities. Examples of local fine arts and crafts from across the centuries.

Finally, in one gallery, a valedictory revelation: a display of contemporary abstract calligraphy, whose letters, literally writ large, have no meaning beyond an aesthetic one. In the rhythmic arabesques of this Islamic-inspired work, I hear echoes of “Hear Us”. And am reassured of the ties that bind us.

fact file

canterbury.co.uk

canterbury-cathedral.org (Canterbury Cathedral)

english-heritage.org.uk (St Augustine’s Abbey)

canterburymuseums.co.uk (Beaney House of Art and Knowledge)

houseofagnes.co.uk (House of Agnes)