York rolls out a magical Christmas shopping weekend

Good PR is a powerful thing.

Early last December I caught a TV news report from York, where a spokesman walked around the city and made a pitch that ... having recovered from and expanded since the city's devastating floods of 2015 ... they now hosted the best Christmas market in the country. Those three beautifully filmed minutes worked their way into my brain. I had to check it out.

Were the markets so much better than my local options that they justified the 5+ hours it takes to get there? Probably not. The news report had implied a series of markets stretching throughout the town. The reality is more compact and featured fewer vendors than I expected. York remains, however, one of England's most charming cities. While the markets didn't extend through the whole of the ancient walled centre, the tasteful decorations did. The weekend we visited also featured an ice sculpture trail.

York is a gorgeous town to wander through at any time of year, thanks to its rich history and sparse incursions by modern bad taste. Vast swathes of town look as they would have in the 1760s. Add Handel's Messiah in York Minster, a remarkable Georgian townhouse decked out for the holidays and what may be the best Christmas shop in England, and the combined experience kicked my festive mood into high gear. Here are the highlights.

THE MARKET
The main market runs for about 300 metres on pedestrianised Parliament Street, running from its start at Coppergate to St. Sampson's Square. There were between 60 and 80 traditional, Alpine-style chalets; it felt roughly twice the size of our local market at Winchester. Add a sprinkling of chalets at the centre of the modern Coppergate shopping centre, all the regular booths in the Shambles market and a pop-up marquee filled with arts and crafts vendors beside that, and the shopping possibilities start to get impressive.

With the exception of shoulder-to-shoulder crowds Saturday afternoon, it was a lot less crowded than Winchester. Most of the Parliament street stalls held the same stuff you can find at Christmas markets up and down the country: hand-crafted outerwear; specialty cheeses, small batch gins and fruit liquors; South American and African imports; Christmas potpourri; wooden kitchen items; star-shaped light shades; food stands serving up mulled wine, sausages and doughnuts. ( I sometimes think there's a factory in China churning this stuff out for similar markets around the world.) There was, however, a slightly higher percentage of local vendors than down South. My favourites included one lady who spent all year making decorations with gilt pine cones, ribbons and bows; a guy who created canine Christmas wreaths from dog treats and a small company that makes authentic Viking drinking horns and wrought iron stands at a fraction of the price you pay in museum shops. (York has a rich Viking history, making the last one deeply appropriate.)

Curiously, there were fewer food and drink options than at other markets. The favourite was clearly the Scandinavian-themed pop-up bar and restaurant called "Thor's TeePee", but the queue was so long every time we passed that we never even considered it.

JORVIK VIKING CENTRE
Distinguished in the UK for being the first cultural attraction to install a Disney-style ride, Jorvik is more of an interpretive centre than a museum. Though the entry is within an ugly 1980s-built shopping mall ... one of the few places within York's city walls blighted by modern architecture ... it sits on top of the actual excavation site of the Viking town centre. After buying your tickets you descend to a dimly lit room where a glass floor lets you walk over part of the dig. You can watch films of the excavations, which spread across a much larger area before the shopping centre came in on top of it. You then board the ride, which takes you through a highly-accurate reconstruction of 10th century Jorvik populated with animatronic people, dogs, chickens and pigs all created from specific skeletons that have been reconstructed from relevant finds. It's all very lifelike, complete with smells, sound effects and the characters speaking the wide range of languages that would have been in use then. You exit the ride into a gallery of display cases filled with actual artefacts of the world you've just seen.

I remember being terribly impressed the first time I visited in 1985, just a year after opening. After 32 years of experiencing advancements in museum display technology, and the past eight steeped in the Viking heritage and Danish travel that came with marrying into the Bencards, I'm less impressed. While the ride is still good, the gallery at the end is a disappointment. It's far too cramped for the crowds coming through. Too many display cases in the walls, where you have to queue up to get close to them, for example, rather than free-standing for 360-degree circulation around. The artefacts aren't particularly impressive, and they don't do much with technology to bring them to life. Jorvik is a very long way behind Denmark's Jelling Viking Centre. A real shame, since it's only recently reopened after 18 months of refurbishment from flood damage. They don't seem to have taken the opportunity for any significant improvements. So ... worth a visit if you like Vikings and haven't spent a lot of time in Denmark, but questionable value for your £10.25. (Although that does get you repeat admission for a year. Anyone want two adult tickets good 'til December 2018?)

YORK MINSTER
It's one of England's blockbuster cathedrals and, as its archbishop is 2nd only to Canterbury, regularly holds services and events of national importance. Since English cathedrals charge admission (£10 for York, good for 1 year), it's always worth checking the event schedule. Pay for a concert, have a wander for free. We stumbled onto a glorious performance of Handel's Messiah. The only drawback: the last available seats were in the back row, where regular gusts from the door lowered the temperature in an already frigid building. This is, I suspect, is the most I've ever suffered for art. It was worth it. When everyone stands and the strains of the Hallelujah chorus fill the air, it's a religious experience in any setting. Hearing in a great cathedral makes it that much better.

Before the concert and at the intermission we were able to wander around. York has some of the cleanest lines of England's great cathedrals. There are no chantry chapels, sparse carved decoration, few paintings. Just white walls, a mostly-white ceiling and soaring gothic arches. It's a study in elegant simplicity. There's more detail to take in around the crossing beneath the spire. The choir screen is a magnificent genealogy of the Plantagenet kings. The restored roofs of the transepts feature some gorgeous bosses, and there are colourful Victorian neo-gothic chapels built into the arches of the transepts. The round chapter house is well worth a look. At this time of year, the most magnificent sight is the giant advent wreath, complete with real candles the height of a man, hanging below the crossing.

KATH WOHLFAHRT 

Perhaps the best Christmas shop in the world, and certainly a testament to the idea that nobody does this holiday better than the Bavarians. This German Christmas experience is even more fun because it  happens inside a rambling, historic half-timbered English town house from the late Middle Ages. Even if you don't want to shop, it's worth having a wander to check out the marvellous historic interiors. 

There are nutcrackers, cuckoo clocks, candle-driven spinning pyramids, incense smokers, nativity scenes and holiday linens ... in addition to at least four large rooms of tree decorations. There's one just for the kind of hand-blown, hand-painted glass ornaments brought back into fashion by Christopher Radko, portraying a staggering variety of subjects. All staffed by helpful ladies in dirndls and loden jackets. It's the company's only outlet in the UK. The only thing that could make it better? An adjacent German beer hall. (York is full of charming pubs, but we couldn't get a seat in any of them on this packed Saturday.) 

My husband proved a frustrating, though ultimately useful, restraint. Without him, I would have easily laid out several hundred pounds on Christmas decorations we don't need. Instead, we spent £20 on a blown glass tree topper we did. Everyone was happy.

FAIRFAX HOUSE

It takes either extreme audacity or supreme confidence to hang the claim that you are England's best Georgian townhouse outside your door. There's a lot of competition, and I was skeptical that anyone could beat Bath's No. 1 Royal Crescent. But I'll give my vote to Fairfax House. It's a slightly older style than Bath's restrained neo-classicism. Fairfax House's decoration dates from the 1760s and feels 20 years older: there's a heavy whiff of Baroque here. (Unsurprising for a proud, provincial Roman Catholic family.) It's worth visiting for the progression of ornate plaster ceilings alone.

The house is beautifully restored and furnished to the state it would have been in when the last Viscount Fairfax did the place up as an urban party palace in an attempt to entertain his way to a fiancé for his daughter. He didn't succeed, and she sold the place after his death. So the furnishings are representative, mostly from a collection that chocolate magnate Noel Terry willed to the house on his death in 1980. 

It's a fluke that the place still exists at all. Used as a club and cinema in the 1930s, it suffered removal of interior walls and suffocation of those glorious ceilings with high gloss paint. While the removal took thousands of painful hours, curators think the synthetic coat preserved exquisite details. A quirk of leases and local government saw the house shuttered, but unable to be occupied or torn down, through the '60s and '70s. Probably another lucky escape. Its rediscovery and reconstruction in the '80s is a fascinating story that well-informed room stewards will be happy to tell you. They also spin tales of Fairfax family history and have deep knowledge of how the furnishings would have worked in every day usage. I was completely captivated; my top sightseeing pick in York.

WHERE WE STAYED: NOVOTEL

Novotel is a pet-friendly hotel chain. They don't publicise it, but all members of the chain allow dogs for an extra fee of £10 per pet. This one has ample parking, generously-sized modern rooms, speedy free wi-fi and is a 10-minute walk to the centre of town. Even better for dog owners, it's also on the River Ouse and opens at the back onto a long river walk complete with street lamps and rubbish bins. Everything a dog owner could want.

V&A's opera show is a wonder of modern storytelling

There was a point so outrageously fabulous during the V&A's new opera exhibition that I found myself quivering with the pure, unadulterated joy of a small child on Christmas morning.

It's in the section devoted to Handel's Rinaldo. The exhibit displays wrap around a disused stage with early18th century scenery piled in the wings, ropes and pulleys hanging from the rafters. Suddenly, you hear the hubbub of crowd noise, the tap-tap-tap of a baton, and scenery moves into place. As the overture rises, layers of canvas-on-wood waves ... one behind another to a painted horizon ... churn in a circular motion, creating a remarkably convincing illusion of a swelling sea. Rinaldo's boat crosses from one side, a sea deity rides from the other, while scenery clouds part to reveal a sun shining down on a glittering foreign city. It is magical. And exactly the way the London audience would have seen it upon its debut in 1711.

It's one of many moments in this blockbuster show that stirred powerful emotions from glee to dread. Great opera should make you feel, and this masterful collaboration between the Victoria and Albert Museum and the Royal Opera House does that with aplomb. This is a great exhibition because of the way it sheds light on its topic, and because of the objects it brings together, but mostly because it has combined design and technology to give us an immersive experience that embodies the very best of modern storytelling.

You know you're in for something special when you get given a set of top-quality wireless headphones with your ticket, head towards a lavish red curtain and find Tony Pappano, music director of the ROH, welcoming you in. From there, you wander through seven operatic experiences, exploring each production in tandem with the city in which it premiered and thus the political and social trends of its time. These spaces spiral around a final, central area where a series of large screens show off the state of opera in the modern world.

While opera combines many art forms, the music comes first. So giving this exhibit a stirring soundtrack is the foundation of its success. The sound quality is excellent, the choice of musical excerpts beautiful and the technology that shifts you automatically from one audio element to the next is almost flawless. (There were a few times when I stood too close to a section divider and had the next opera cutting in prematurely, but you quickly get the hang of coming back into the main path.)

There are plenty of fascinating things in cases to look at, from beautiful instruments to lavish costumes and original scores. Set design has always been a critical part of opera, and it plays a significant role here. In the Marriage of Figaro section, they've brought in a whole wall from the set of the ROH's highly acclaimed production. In the bit on Strauss' Salome, heavy with Freudian associations, you can take a seat on an oversized version of Freud's famous, Turkey-carpet covered couch to watch the action. Labels on the walls of each section capture key points in snackable bites; design for the social media generation. A risky move ... it could have seemed a cheap attempt to get down with the "yoof" ... but it was actually a beautifully conceived way to get essential facts across quickly and simply. This is worlds away from the dry, academic labels that usually accompany worthy museum shows.

In each case, there are videos of real performances to add to your understanding. Beyond the exhibition, the BBC has produced a two-part show with Lucy Worsley on the same topic. The V&A's web site is full of additional information and short films. The seriously keen can even sign up for classes at the museum. This is the embodiment of the modern, multi-media, multi-channel exhibition.

It's not all perfect. The format of seven premiers in seven cities is an interesting concept, but ultimately creates a rod for their own backs. It works beautifully for the early operas. We experience Monteverdi's Coronation of Poppea at the same time the decadent opulence of Venice gives birth to the art form. Handel's Rinaldo in London sees opera grow up and move beyond Italy as the English capital grows to world prominence, while Mozart's Marriage of Figaro puts Enlightenment trends in Vienna on stage. Verdi's Nabucco premier in Milan is unquestionably linked to the Italian unification movement, but we start to lack balance here as this part of the show becomes more about the politics than the opera. (Although I found one of my favourite displays here: a photographic wall of 150 Italian opera houses, backlit and shining like precious jewels.)

We really slide off the rails when Wagner's Tannhauser gets paired with Louis Napoleon's Paris. True,  a quirk of history did throw this opera and city together; but it's an uncomfortable forced marriage. Wagner and his work was so inextricably linked to Germany, and the role of "Mad" King Ludwig is one of opera's greatest off-stage stories. To do Wagner and his enormous impact on the art form justice, we deserved one of the Munich premieres. Instead, it felt like the curators wanted to avoid the troubling German nationalist legacy, and needed to wedge Paris in somewhere, so pushed the two together.

Then it's on to Dresden, where I actually enjoyed exploring Strauss' Salome more than I thought I would. Though the Dresden tie seemed completely incidental; most of the trends we were talking about here came out of Vienna. While I'm still not enough of a convert to want to see a full production of this challenging (both musically and topically) production, linking it to the world's growing awareness of female sexuality and teenage angst was fascinating. Oscar Wilde's play and Beardsley's prints (beautiful but disturbing) show how Salome's story was so much bigger, and on trend, than the one opera.

Unfortunately, the final section on Shostakovich's Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (paired with Leningrad) risked destroying all the joy that had come before. The plot is distressing, the political reality of Stalin's Russia horrible and the music so discordantly awful that I had to take off my headphones. Porgy and Bess would have been a much more satisfying, and palatable, take on the move toward modern opera, but I assume its launch in Boston ... hardly a world-renown opera town ... took it out of contention.

Sadly, I was so disturbed by the Shostakovich that I didn't have the mental energy to spend much time in the final room with the screens exploring opera since 1945. Having resumed my headphones, I entered to a blast of discordant notes, violent images and ugly, industrial set design that reinforced my ingrained prejudices that the art form has steadily gone to hell since the death of Puccini. I would have liked to have been convinced otherwise. My greatest complaint about the otherwise wonderful show is that they didn't use this fantastic opportunity to change my mind.

Instead, I slipped quickly back into the Wagner section, closed my eyes and listened again to the overture to Tannhauser. Then I took off my headphones and walked through the modern bit in silence.    Emotional equilibrium recovered, my final verdict remains overwhelmingly positive. This unique exploration of the art form will intrigue anyone who's even mildly interested in opera, while the topic, format and design will delight people fascinated by how we tell stories.

Opera: Passion, Power and Politics is on at London's Victoria and Albert Museum through 25 February. It's a good idea to book tickets in advance, especially on weekends or for Friday night openings.