The news that Newcastle Cathedral is going to host monthly comedy nights, complete with “full bar” and merchandise outlet, has annoyed a former chaplain to the Queen. Dr Gavin Ashenden described it as “a misuse” and feared the “awesome” cathedral would be reduced to “an O2 Arena or a nightclub”. “If the diocese of Newcastle wants to have comedians, it should hire a comedy club,” he said, “but to do it in a cathedral is offensive to everyone who thinks a cathedral is a holy space.”
I like comedy but it’s hard to immediately dismiss this view. You imagine a comedy gig-style lighting state, all reds and greens and lager brand gobos flickering up the walls, and it all feeling somehow diabolical in the context of shadowy gothic architecture. And then in the middle, the confident standup, spotlit, microphone in hand, swearing and talking about being dumped and saying that the statues of the saints look like paedos. The raucous laughter echoing up the nave, spilt beer trickling into the lettering of the memorial flagstones, while the comedian perches a buttock on the altar and goes into his bit about internet porn.
