The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

There is a picture hanging in my mind,
a typical group portrait painted by
Franz Hals? Rubens? even Rembrandt?
No one has signed it, but it is impressive,
its title: Portrait of St-John-at-Hampstead’.
The Vicar’s there, the Curate’s there, Judy
of course, the organist and choir
singing a Laus Deo, while a stout
Lay Reader sits by himself in a pew.
The congregation is all dressed up for a feast,
colours are vivid, no paint is spared
to create a scene of celebration.
But the stout Lay Reader, lit from the painter’s hand,
has become the focal point. His quizzical glance,
wise smile and generous hands catch our attention,
balancing the scene.
But now? Now
he’s been painted out; his portrait moved elsewhere.
Whom can the artist paint in his place? It can’t
be easy, the whole depending on that
figure of wit and warmth and contradiction.
A touch of colour has gone, the group portrait
will never now be quite the same again.

Sylvia Read