My article for Scooter Magazine, spring 2013.
It’s a Friday evening in November, and the last glimmer of sunlight has faded. On Amsterdam Avenue in front of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine, parents with wheeled suitcases and sleeping bags loiter on the sidewalk as kids play tag on the wide steps. The dark Cathedral looms above, ominous and foreboding.
At the top of the steps, a heavy door slowly opens. A woman dressed in a black cassock pops her head out. “Welcome to Knightwatch,” she announces. The kids charge the door. For the next 14 hours, this 121-year-old Gothic cathedral will become a playground, theater stage, and portal to the Middle Ages.
Knightwatch Medieval is the latest addition to sleepovers for children at New York City museums and institutions. The American Museum of Natural History’s hugely successful “A Night at the Museum” started the trend. The Bronx Zoo, Intrepid Museum and New York Hall of Science have all hopped on the afterhours-adventure bandwagon. Knightwatch, which costs $135 per person and runs from Friday night until early the next morning, stands out because it exposes children to what makes New York City such a unique place to grow up: its theater, history, and architecture.
As soon as we enter the Cathedral, the “play” begins. We are welcomed by our hosts, the Good Abbess, the Monk, and the Lowly Wench, who address us as “lord” and “lady.” Over an entire evening none of the actors breaks character. Dim overhead lighting gives us all a theatrical look; the church’s chilly dampness adds to the atmosphere. There is no fourth wall here, only rib-vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows.
“Is this a castle?” asks my eight-year-old son as we enter. It does feel like a castle, a bit spooky and overwhelming. (Still unfinished, it’s longer than two football fields and contains seven chapels.)
Though the Cathedral is an Episcopal church, Knightwatch is strictly secular: no mention of the Crusades or the Inquisition here. This is about kids getting a taste of a long-ago time in a majestic setting. Plus, how many chances do you get to sleep all night in the largest Gothic cathedral in the Western Hemisphere?
Our group is relatively small—only about 40. (Other family sleepovers can top 400 people.) There are no long lines, no searching for someone to ask where the bathroom is. Within a few hours, everyone is on a first-name basis.
The night is broken into three sections: medieval crafts, a dance lesson, and an interactive play that includes a scavenger hunt for the kids. First, we meet the King who tells us his tale of woe: a magician has cast a spell on his daughter, the princess, so she is unable to speak. And the children must-must-must help him find the antidote to restore her voice. You see, she’s getting married tomorrow to a knight, and she must say her vows or something bad will happen. It’s a little confusing, but the kids don’t care because they can’t wait to help save the kingdom.
Before that can happen, we are ushered down into the basement to the Medieval Arts Workshop, where we learn about the church’s architecture, specifically its gargoyles. The kids test out what it’s like to be a stonemason. They strap on goggles and clang-clang their mallets against chisels into a block of limestone, then are handed a ball of wet clay to create their own goofy or gallant gargoyle.
As the mini-sculptures dry, it’s time for our dance lesson. Accompanied by two minstrels, one playing bagpipes and the other a Renaissance fiddle, our instructor teaches us a simple circle dance (“two steps to the left, two steps to the right”) and a clog dance, which the kids love because they can stomp around.
Our guide, the Good Abbess, beckons us. The King needs our help to save the kingdom! We race upstairs where we meet Felix, the court jester, who will assist us. We must find the key with the golden ribbon to unlock the box that contains the antidote for the princess. And so the scavenger hunt begins.
The court jester is like Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz: he’s playful and silly, but always sets us back on track when the kids get derailed. We search for clues, stumbling upon scenes in the Cathedral’s chapels showing the unfolding saga of the mute princess and the vain knight. With more twists than a Spanish-language telenovela, the interactive play is a Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding for the under-12 set. We are sworn to secrecy not to reveal the story’s outcome, so unless you have tickets for tomorrow night’s sold-out overnight, you’ll have to attend one of the upcoming sleepovers on May 3, 24 or June 14 and find out for yourself.
Over the course of the scavenger hunt, we end up exploring every nook and cranny in the Cathedral. The kids become so familiar and comfortable that when bedtime arrives, they aren’t scared of this initially dark and spooky place.
We bed down on sturdy cots in the nave. Because of the small group size and the massive space, we’re able to spread out with some semblance of privacy. With sleeping bags, long johns, and the cool temperature, this almost feels like a camping trip.
As the lights turn off, every kid with a flashlight hops out of bed and becomes a little imp. I hear the pat-slap of bare feet running across the floor and whispers of “guys, guys, over here.” Shafts of light crisscross each other and then disappear as kids race to hide behind a gigantic pillar. Occasionally an adult gets up to corral his or her child. But most of us just lie on our cots and watch the scampering pixies, and think how wonderful it is to live in New York.
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