Historic art corner

I went to church for the midweek Eucharist this morning, and ended up saying Morning Prayer and Ante-Communion, as nobody showed up. There was shopping to do, lunch to cook and emails to answer, then a tea-time I had another visit from Luiz whose installation of a new toilet cistern valve had not been entirely successful, as the generic valve design isn't a perfect fit, and sealing it is tricky. He worked on it for another hour and a half, then left with instructions to let the seal cure for a day before testing by filling the tank.

Then I went out for my paseo, climbing up the Gibralfaro path a little way for a good photographic glimpse of a large cruise ship, in port today. 3,750 passengers and 1,000 staff this one, called 'Mein Schiff 3'. Built in Finland, registered in Malta, run by TUI, this is a new generation vessel, one of a series with same name followed by a number. These have diesel-electric engines, where a cleaner, modern diesel generator provides electric power to the propulsion units. Good to know that the tour industry giants are responding to the environmental challenge in this way. The sea tourism market is still expanding, however, so many older ships remain in service largely unmodified, I'd guess, as on some occasions the acrid smell of ship's diesel fumes wafts over Playa La Malagueta, a kilometre from the cruise terminal.

Tucked into the quay next to the Melilla ferry terminal MSC Corinthian was moored. It's only two weeks since she last visited. Collecting or delivering passengers? I wondered, but there's no way of satisfying my idle curiosity. 

I walked then into the Old Town to Calle Cister, hoping to find Abadia de Sta Ana open, which it was. The photos I took much earlier in my stay weren't in perfect focus, and I wanted to improve on them. It's lovely to go in there because marvellous monastic plainchant is playing in the background. I was a little more successful this time, and took a picture of a large and beautiful crucifix which presides from the south transept wall over the nuns' choir stalls, which face the altar from that side, enclosed and hidden from congregational view. These days, no nuns live here, so a hidden treasure is accessible to the public. Annoyingly, my close up headshot of Nuestra Señora de la Soledad weeping tears over her dead son was still slightly out of focus, so I'll have to return tomorrow.

In another cul de sac nearby across Calle Cister is the Museo de Revello Toro, one of Spain's great contemporary portrait artists, still going strong at 91. He's designed prestigious posters for the Malaga carnival on two occasions as well. Much of his collection is exhibited permanently here, and the 17th century house was originally owned and worked in by Pedro de Mena, once of Spain's outstanding religious sculptors, who carved the wooden figures of saints adorning the Cathedral's choir stalls, just a stone's throw away. He had strong associations with Abadia de Sta Ana, and asked to be buried there. Something went wrong at the time, and it was only in 1991 that his remains were finally interred close to the threshold of the church, according to his wishes. There's a lovely bust of hin on a plinth just outside the museum entrance. I arrived there just as the doors were about to close for the day, so all I could do was say hasta manana to the custodians and head for home.

Convent discovery

This morning's news brought the announcement of Professor Stephen Hawking's death at 76, living longer and more creatively, thanks to modern medical medicine and technologies, than any other sufferer of motor neurone disease, fifty five years since diagnosis in fact. Truly one of the greatest creative minds of the twentieth century, trapped in a paralysed body, yet remaining capable to the end of his life of participation in scientific and social life, thanks to a high level of personal care and support. He has inspired several generations of young people to consider the universe with curiosity awe, wonder. There was no room for God in his world of theorisation, but he was never the kind of thinker to discourage others from being curious about the subject, and to think for themselves. What a wonderful legacy.

There were just four of us for the midweek Eucharist this morning, I prayed for Ken Dodd, conveyor of joy and laughter (a churchgoer apparently) and Stephen Hawking communicator of awe and wonder, ( yet an atheist), giving God thanks for two such remarkably different twentieth century lives. We were four for the bible study following the service, but the conversation still made it well worthwhile. When we finished, I went to the bank nearby to cash my cheque al portador for the locum duty fee. It comes in handy as I was just about to run out of the euros I brought with me. I had a long wait to be seen, not because there was a queue, as on other occasions there has been, but because the cajera disappeared with another client, so I had to wait until a colleague noticed my plight and came over to attend to me. As banks here shut at two, it was a relief to me as the hour was far approaching after my wait.

It was decided not to hold a bible study in Velez Malaga this afternoon, as too many of those hoping to come were away this week, or had other urgent duties to perform. I didn't mind, as took time to draft a Sunday sermon, and then take a walk around town with my camera, and see how much more work has been started to erect Semana Santa spectator ranks of seating. I found that work has also started on some sections of the Alameda, and that must be a complex segregation task, given that bus stops in both directions and still operational, not to mention the area cordoned off for Metro line construction.

Scaffolding topped by a platform has been erected in the narrow street between the Cathedral and the Bishop's Palace. It's not for spectator seating, as processions will have to pass beneath it, to enter through the north central doors. Most likely it's for television cameras, given that Semana Santa in Malaga is broadcasted live on a local TV channel.

In a side street between the Cathedral and the Alcazaba, I found open for the first time the 17th century Cistercian Abbey of Sta Ana. There's a Museum of Sacred Art, but the entrance was closed for building work, but the late 19th century church was open. It's a plain small building with grill enclosed west gallery and loft in the south wall above the chancel, for nuns keeping vigil over the Blessed Sacrament, when exposed for adoration. Above the aumbry lies the recumbent image of the dead Christ, before burial, and Mary looking down on him distraught. In its simplicity, it's a powerful image for contemplation. 

Sta Ana closed as a convent in 2009, but is still used as a place of worship. During restoration work, it was discovered that the Abbey had been built on top of the city's ancient Roman baths. Not surprising really, as the remains of the first century Roman theatre are nearby.

Since I've been here, I've put the telly on once to find out how it works. It's attached to a digi-box but I have yet to figure out if it does programmes in any other language than Spanish. Somehow the evenings slip by quickly, listening to or reading the news, editing photos, making a meal. There's no time to get bored.