Harps and Helios

This is Monday’s blip, posted even later than usual as we’ve been staying in Meols and I’d left my iPad at home so I’ve not been able to download or edit photos.  I reall6 dislike blipping from my phone, so whilst I’ve managed some comments etc, I’ve got lots of catching up to do. 

I’m always eager to visit the installations in Liverpool’s Anglican Cathedral, and Luke Jarman’s Helios is no exception. Apparently, this is the only place to have housed all three of his celestial works, though it’s the first we’ve seen here. 

This time we’ve opted for an evening event. Obviously there are fewer people, we are greeted with a ‘free’ drink, and Dulverton Bridge is open so we can ascend to its lofty 9 metres and view both Helios and the cathedral’s nave. The bridge is an unusual architectural feature that was originally built to support part of the organ and is a distinctive part of the cathedral's interior. 

Possibly the first thing that strikes us is that the sheer size of the cathedral - the largest Anglican cathedral in the world, and the largest religious building in the UK - makes the Helios rather small! It’s seven metres in diameter and at a scale of 1.200 million, so every centimetre of Heliosrepresents 2000km of the Sun’s surface, but whereas it has seemed to fill smaller buildings, here it’s almost dwarfed.  

Wa ting to view Helios from as many angles as possible I walk down the na e towards the east window and the apse. By now, the evening sunlight is shining through the stained glass windows, illuminating columns and walls, painting some Technicolor. It’s beautiful in itself, but there is also the view of Helios back in the vast well of the building, visitors silhouetted against the sun or the stained glass windows. 

Just then, I’m told the main body of the cathedral is out of bounds and barriers are placed across the aisles to prevent access. We can look, but neither touch or visit as we are here for the main event - a recital given by Elizabeth McNulty, principal  harpist of the Liverpool Philharmonic.  

We all sit at trestle  tables in this vast gothic revival building, the huge sun above us (huge now we’re sitting under it) and listen. The idea is wonderful, but we’re told it’s fine to chat while she plays - and it ends up as neither background music or recital. We leave before the end, G particularly disappointed. Still, I have a haul of images, so there’s another set today!