A tribute by Gustav Temple to Michael Silver, who left his earthly body on 2nd December 2025.
Photo by Clayton Hartley
“As a priest I am often asked why we had to endure BBC2’s Desperate Romantics: an attempt, perhaps, at cross-pollinating earlier crowd-pleasers Up Pompeii and Tipping the Velvet, on a Pre-Raphaelite palate? Most objectionable was its depiction of John Ruskin. The Beeb put on its most prurient lenses, giving us John the porn-gazing cuckold; a rather dull, avuncular figure set against a wild, revolutionary gang of painters and aesthetes. Yet Ruskin, it could be argued, was the true innovator – arguably the inventor of art history, public libraries and amateur road construction. One has only to consider his wardrobe for the evidence of his pioneering spirit.”
Thus spake the Reverend Michael Silver, known universally as ‘The Curé’, in a feature published in CHAP no.47. The article was concerning John Ruskin, and Silver, who has died aged 70, was something of a Ruskinian figure among the Chappist community. Other figures he identified strongly with were Frederick Rolfe, AKA Baron Corvo, and Cecil Vyse from A Room With a View. Michael was always baffled by the notion that people thought of Vyse as the ‘uncool’ suitor of Lucy Honeychurch, compared to the free-spirited George Emerson, whereas for Michael, the one who wore pince-nez and went around quoting from Dante was the most eligible bachelor in town.
Little is known about The Curé’s early life, nor indeed the year of his birth. He simply wafted into the very first Chap Olympiad, brought by his university friend Fiona Salter, in July 2004 and seemed to fit in immediately. His garb was devotedly Edwardian, the studied clothing of an off-duty curate, each item lovingly sourced for its period accuracy. Much of it was black, although on his first appearance within our ranks he had donned a cream linen jacket and white Panama hat over what would prove to be his customary black trousers and waistcoat – always with an impressive pocket watch, chain and fob.
The title of Curé was not official, but Silver did give a weekly sermon in the Continuing Anglican parish church of Letchworth. The Continuing Church is a splinter of the Church of England that, like the Anglo Catholic Church, retains a belief in lines of Apostolic Succession. Silver took his liturgy very seriously, donning ancient vestments to conduct his sermons and living much as an ordained Catholic priest would, until he married artist Anastasia in 2014. He maintained a full-time job in the community, giving advice and practical help to those with mental health problems.
Photo by Clayton Hartley
However, he still found time to enjoy the good things in life and was a regular guest at Chap events and those held by The New Sheridan Club. We all had much to learn from The Curé, from the word ‘ormolu’ to where to get one’s spectacles fitted with authentic period lenses that were flat and would catch the light in an aesthetically pleasing and – Silver would note with a sly wink – also slightly sinister manner. Yet no matter how much of a fine dinner he’d taken with friends, he would always rush away on a Saturday evening, to reach Letchworth Garden City in time to compose his Sermon for the following Sunday, not to mention the hours it would take to don the vestments. The Curé was the curator of a fine collection of antique liturgical garments, also decorating his church at Letchworth with ecclesiastical antiques, some of them indeed made from ormolu. His mass was conducted in Latin, and Christmas and Easter cards from him would bear inscrutable (at least to us heathens) messages in Latin. Michael Silver somehow managed to merge a dry sense of humour with a serious devotion to the Church, something rarely found on either side of the Anglican schism.
As The Curé said of Ruskin, “His wardrobe progressed from sartorial innovation to eccentric anachronism. By 1878, when Ruskin was beginning to suffer from the mental illness that dogged his later life, Canon Scott Holland described Ruskin as resembling “something between an old-fashioned nobleman of the forties and an angel that had lost its way.”
A perfectly apt description of Michael Silver, and we wish him God speed on his next journey.
Requiescat in pace, M le Curé! You always enlivened many occasions.
No he never lost his way, possibly the way lost him
A man that those who had the fortune to met will never forget.
Wit, wisdom, kindness and an ability to make connections with all within society no matter what path they have chosen. There is very few can do this, and even less who understand the importance
With much love, Micheal, safe journey 🙏xx
I recall Michael’s arrival (as a teenager?) at St. Clement’s, Cambridge in the early ’70s, with his parents and a teddy bear. Years passed, and there he was at the National Pilgrimage at Walsingham. He did not join the heretics in the afternoon procession, but cleverly positioned himself, in nineteenth century clericals, on a slight incline near the Parish Church, where he stood, hands clasped behind his back, jaw firm, back straight, like a general reviewing his troops. The ecclesiastical world is the poorer for Michael’s demise.. R.I.P.
I also met Michael at S. Clem’s, in my case in 1979 when as a postgrad I moved into the parish and aspiring to work for the Anglican Church in Papua New Guinea thought we ought to find out what trad High was like. In the end wa went to S. Africa for three years- so the insights weren’t unhelpful.
I disagreed with him over many churchy matters, but we kept in touch and were very happy to be at their wedding in Letchworth.
I last saw him at home a couple of months before he died, knowing he was going and more concerned for Anastasia than himself. He shared his passion for stained glass and rejoiced in her art.
His death which I learnt of here, while not a shock is a blow only mitigated by his mature attitude and confidence in Our Lord. A true disciple and servant.
May he rest in peace and rise with Christ in Glory!