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Reflections on a royal funeral
I have borrowed my main title from Henry Mancini’s autobiography. He was, among other musical accomplishments, the composer of many Hollywood film scores, notably the Pink Panther series and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. In studio-era Hollywood, composers always worked under great pressure and often bearing heavy responsibility for the success or otherwise of a film, but by custom were excluded from its private pre-release screening attended by the studio moguls and their acolytes. As the composer, all you could do was to ask someone who had been privy to the post-screening discussions whether anyone had mentioned the music (generally not, it seems), and if so, whether the verdict was favourable.
I was reminded of this telling insight as I channel-hopped around the after-the-event TV coverage following the Duke of Edinburgh’s funeral. Amid all the torrents of expert or would-be expert verbiage about the service and those attending it, I heard not one word of comment about the music which had formed such a crucial part of the funeral service, much less any commendation of the musicians who had planned and executed it with such flawless professionalism and unstinting commitment.
Was I surprised? Not really. I learned a bitter lesson as a young organist sometimes drafted in to play at weddings: not everyone loves and cares about music as you do. Being accustomed to respectful and attentive concert audiences, I was shocked at what seemed to me the rudeness and indifference of wedding congregations who fidgeted in the pews, brought howling infants with them, coughed and rustled their Orders of Service, and chattered during our lovingly rehearsed anthem accompanying the signing of the register.
But let’s return to films. If you doubt the importance of music in film, try watching the desert scenes in Lawrence of Arabia with the sound turned off, or (sorry if you’re reading this over breakfast) the shower scene in Psycho – where what is actually a rather tame piece of cinematography is made terrifying by Bernard Herrmann’s music with its much-imitated shrieking violins.
There are parallels with church music here. As with a film, music in a church service is there not for its own sake but to form part of a tapestry of words, music, action, costume, and (if you’re in St George’s Windsor or somewhere like it) scenic splendour. It’s called liturgy, and if music plays its part properly, the event is lifted heavenward, and if it does not, the whole thing can fall flat.
Unlike in a film, the music at a church service is generally not the work of a single composer, and the task of whoever plans the service – in this case with some required inclusions of music chosen by the Duke – is to make it all fit together and flow smoothly, which was triumphantly achieved at Windsor, working with the Covid constraints allowing only a solo quartet of voices rather than the full choir. If you have studied (say) the structure of a Beethoven symphony, you will know how important the key structure is in binding a whole work together. And at the funeral there was similarly meticulous planning of keys. (Skip the next bit if it doesn’t interest you.) It was all built around G, minor and major, which we were prepared for by the final pre-service organ voluntary, Vaughan Williams’s Rhosymedre Prelude in the major, leading into a subdued improvisation in the minor. William Croft’s timeless Burial Sentences followed (G minor) . . . and after the Bidding Prayer, Dykes’s beloved Eternal Father (in the related key of the subdominant major, C) – in James Vivian’s arrangement boldly leaving the first verse to an unaccompanied solo voice, rather like the lone trumpet at the start of The Godfather which makes you pay attention and listen. We stay in C major for Britten’s Jubilate written at the Duke’s request in 1961, brisk, concise and no-nonsense (qualities he would have encouraged, no doubt) . . . a return to G minor for William Lovelady’s Psalm 104 setting, its key and ground-bass structure echoing one of the greatest of all laments, Dido’s from Purcell’s opera . . . William Smith’s Responses from the early 17th century bringing a shaft of sunlight in G major, then the Russian Kontakion returning to sombre G minor, a sidestep to G minor’s relative major for the Last Post in B flat, its subdominant E flat for Reveille, and a sense of return and release with the National Anthem in G major. Beethoven couldn’t have planned it better. Non-musicians will not have been consciously aware of all this thread of careful planning, but, trust me, the funeral service wouldn’t have felt the same without it.
There were other threads of connection skilfully woven into the fabric of the service – royal, historical, and local. William Croft (1678–1727) shared the same teacher, John Blow, as his older contemporary Henry Purcell (to whom Lovelady’s Psalm 104 setting pays homage), and like him he was a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal and Organist of Westminster Abbey. Most of Croft’s music is forgotten, but his hymn tune to O God, our help in ages past is still a firm favourite and his Burial Sentences which opened the service have been sung at the funeral of every British sovereign since George II. The Russian Kontakion – brought into the Anglican repertoire in its arrangement by St George’s organist Sir Walter Parratt over a hundred years ago – reminded us of the Duke’s background in the Orthodox Church. Another St George’s organist, Sir William Harris – piano teacher to the young Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret – composed one of the organ preludes before the service. His friend and Windsor colleague Canon Edmund Fellowes was the first to edit William Smith’s Responses from the early seventeenth century which we heard skilfully arranged for four voices (there were five in the original) by former St George’s Assistant Organist Roger Judd.
And what of our superb quartet of voices? Tom Lilburn, Nicholas Madden, and Simon Whiteley, lay clerks in St George’s Choir, were joined by another member of the St George’s community, Miriam Allan (married to their colleague Richard Bannan, I directed the choir at their wedding) . . . Luke Bond was the impeccable organist who knew just how to match his instrument to the four voices . . . James Vivian, St George’s Organist and Choirmaster, directed the music but did far more than that, in drawing together the threads of the tapestry to make the funeral, planned in the midst of a pandemic, the ‘austere yet eloquent’ tribute to the Duke that it was recognised to be by the Sunday Times music critic Hugh Canning. In The Spectator the eminent composer Sir James MacMillan described it as having ‘a gentle but huge impact’ on those who witnessed it.
Others better qualified than I am will, I hope, have commented on the splendid contribution to the day made by the military contingents in the Castle precincts and the two eminent clergymen leading the service, but I have given you my musician’s-eye view. So I, at least, have mentioned the music.
John
PS How right Sebb is to point out my failure to mention the lovely Bach chorale prelude on Schmücke dich which began the thoughtfully chosen sequence of organ pieces preceding the service, and the magisterial C minor Prelude and Fugue – still embedded in my muscle memory from my organ-playing days – which followed after the service. Unfortunately they didn’t form part of the service as broadcast (the prelude was faded out as the mourners left the chapel) so readers of the blog can’t revisit them online, and a liturgiologist would tell you, rightly or wrongly, that organ voluntaries aren’t part of a worship service as such, though I made it the custom in my Cambridge college when I was director of music to ask the congregation to remain in their places until the concluding voluntary was finished. BBC Radio 3 always broadcasts concluding voluntaries in full after choral evensongs, television channels do not. But please, sir, of course I was serious in writing what I did. And, for the record, I believe Bach to be the greatest of composers.
The lone piper, whose contribution was atmospheric and poignant, deserved mention too. My ear just wishes that bagpipes were tuned to A 440 rather than between the cracks of modern pitches! I suppose it places them in a world of their own, which is rather lovely.
Thank you for sharing your reaction to, and understanding, of the funeral music which symbolised traditional church music so well. As an Anglican Organist I have always appreciated how well voices, unaccompanied or carried to magnificent ceilings, brought wonderful buildings into life. In themselves these cathedrals and churches symbolise beauty, and historic musical settings of liturgy, along with hymns also form a symphonic pattern. The
Clergy, the Choir and the Congregation each contribute their voices, to every movement. .
The outdoor musical tributes by so many bands, reminded me that music and movement also brought dignity and colour to set the scene for the funeral of a great person, so aptly.
The love story of Queen Elizabeth 11 and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, shone through this historic and heart-warming day, so well planned and presented in every way.
So you’ve managed to write about the funeral music without mentioning Bach with whom both the funeral (and all music) both started and ended? Are you serious?
Thank you for a brilliant article. As a now retired organist I can fully appreciate your comments about weddings and church music in general. I had a trick with noisy congregations at weddings. Play something very loudly and at the height of the noise change to very very quiet, usually worked. My own daughter’s wedding we had the anthem, one of your own compositions, sung during the prayers and it was most effective. Hopefully we get a Christmas concert this year, haven’t missed one for many years, although lovely to get one last year via this media.
After a year when musicians haven’t been able to perform, they still step up to the plate as we all acknowledge how music is so important to mark out these important events.
I loved the way the service felt almost like a chamber concert as a foil to the more public military music outside.
And at the end, nul points for the BBC who (predictably) faded out the organ music at the end.
Thank you so much for this learned analysis. I’m printing it out here in Strasbourg and sending it to my Yorkshire dad. Stay safe Monsieur Rutter…
Thank you for your description of the music at the funeral. I am a singer, so I am always interested in the music. (I was fortunate to sing under your direction at the Berkshire Choral Institute- your Magnificat and Poulenc Gloria.) At least ABC showed subtitles with the names of the pieces. I also loved the lone piper at the end.
And was there ever a more flawless, stunning rendition of The Last Post?! Perfectly executed, it sent shivers up my spine!
Thank you sir. As a retired church musician I have had the wonderful opportunity to perform a number of the pieces. Working in the Roman Church, which no longer uses the continuity factor of Chant in it’s liturgy, so often I would struggle with programing material – including and especially some times, key relationships. I often used the Jubilate Deo – which was introduced to me by Sir David Willcocks at a seminar – as the recessional for the Sacramental Confirmation Liturgy. The Bishops and even the Cardinal commented favorably.
Lots of appreciation for this article – I too was searching for information on the musicians – especially the singers and organists – they deserve notice and accolades.
Thanks so much for all of your music, and musicianship. We are richer because if it
Thank you, John, for sharing your knowledge, insights and interpretation from your perspective as an extraordinary church musician and composer. You have “set the record straight” regarding the beautiful music that supported and shaped our emotional experience as we observed the funeral of a truly regal man who humbly shared his humanity with so many.
Please know how much your compositions are loved!
Maestro Rutter: As you know, I’m a pilot and not a technical musician but I do know what I like and don’t like. Having grown up in the Anglican community here in the States, I do enjoy the beautiful music that matches our liturgy. HRH Prince Philip planned his memorial service with impeccable taste. My Father was in the United States Navy during WWII. “Eternal Father Strong To Save” was played at my Father’s funeral. It is a hymn that I can’t sing because it brings me to tears, not because of my Father but because of the words and the musical setting! I agree with Mr. Dawson above, the absence of a packed nave allowed the building to amplify the outstanding quartet and the organ for a spectacular and moving service.
I’m glad somebody mentioned the Military Piper. Perfectly choreographed and toned as he marched away. I’ve sung in choirs at weddings and fully agree with your comments on that respect. Thank you for this piece.
Petroc Trelawny gave a special mention to the music and musicians on R3’s Breakfast on Monday morning.
Thank you for this valuable comment. The music- choice and execution- was spot on and really made the service. I wonder whether a recording of it could be made available?
Very well said. As a professional musician I noticed how all my musician friends and a great many non musician friends commented on the wonderful music for the service. All credit to the Duke of Edinburgh for organising and selecting it and it was wonderful to see he essentially made a commission with the William Lovelady setting of the psalm 104.
Of course the musicianship was first class as one would expect……thank you for naming the musicians (a shame the TV coverage chose not to do this…..but at least in later commentary the beauty of the music was touched upon).
After a year of no or very little performing the fact professional musicians can step up and produce the goods to ‘make the service’ so moving is no surprise to me but perhaps it is something the wider public should be made aware of. The standard and quality of musicianship in the UK should be a huge selling point for the country as a whole. While not wishing to detract from a poignant, sad, private and public, and historically important occasion it is an opportunity for the country to show off and shout about it’s wonderful musicians. An opportunity to shout about artistic integrity and something of real meaning. We do this well and as such music and performing with artistic integrity should be more to the fore, recognised and proudly supported in this country.
Thank you for your reflections. This kind of thing is very important.
Many thanks to one of our pre-eminent living composers of English church music for correcting the BBC’s omission that the four soloists (for such they were) were not named. Also, the texts were not shown, which would have added more. But the music prevailed, being the essence of the service, and added to the knowledge of most of us of how extraordinary was HRH The Duke of Edinburgh, who, himself, planned these details of his own funeral.
It brought back memories of singing with them (Nick in particular) under you in the Chapel on one of your Come-and-Sings. Working at that level leaves a soul memory. What was the greatest impresiion is how everyone was part of the extended Castle household, I found a welcome as the son of the Prince’s adviser in the Enfineering professions – they saved many lived in the last year, when their Council of the Engineering Professions was called on to get ventilators into hospitals, which happened within a week.
Very well said. As a professional musician I noticed how all my musician friends and a great many non musician friends commented on the wonderful music for the service. All credit to the Duke of Edinburgh for organising and selecting it and it was wonderful to see he essentially made a commission with the William Lovelady setting of the psalm 104.
Of course the musicianship was first class as one would expect……thank you for naming the musicians (a shame the TV coverage chose not to do this…..but at least in later commentary the beauty of the music was touched upon).
After a year of no or very little performing the fact professional musicians can step up and produce the goods to ‘make the service’ so moving is no surprise to me but perhaps it is something the wider public should be made aware of. The standard and quality of musicianship in the UK should be a huge selling point for the country as a whole. While not wishing to detract from a poignant, sad, private and public, and historically important occasion it is an opportunity for the country to show off and shout about it’s wonderful musicians. An opportunity to shout about artistic integrity and something of real meaning. We do this well and as such music and performing with artistic integrity should be more to the fore, recognised and proudly supported in this country.
Thank you for your reflections. This kind of thing is very important. Please send your reflections to the papers and hope not only the Guardian bothers to pick it up!
I should add that to his credit, and having played at a few events where HRH the Duke of Edinburgh was present, he always made a point of thanking the musicians. Taking a moment to talk to them and acknowledge them.
John! I so agree with you and how wonderful to see your exposition of such a “golden thread” which knit the whole thing together. It was an incredibly moving experience…especially in the quad of the castle with the military bands and their marvelous playing. Interestingly enough, here, in the USA, the post-service rattling by TV talking heads almost to a person highlighted the music. Of course, none could identify that “golden thread” — but as you rightly point out, if it had been missing, the service would not have come off as powerfully as it did. God bless the Queen. Bruce Barber
Thank you, John, for such a wonderful analysis of why people “felt” the way they did, even though many folks will never know why. The music was a gloriously woven tapestry.
Best wishes,
DIana