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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.
Such a helpful article – it really helped me appreciate the music used.
Thank you John for this insightful and informative essay. Many of us, as musicians, have experienced the frustration with audiences who either lack the knowledge or common courtesy to fully appreciate our efforts.
Your contribution to the world of music is incalculable, and we are the better for it. Blessings.
So that the valuable information doesn’t get lost, I just added a mention of this article to the wikipedia page “Death and funeral of Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_and_funeral_of_Prince_Philip,_Duke_of_Edinburgh
All my best from across the pond.
As someone on the other side of the Great Puddle with a profound love of music of the English school(s) throughout history (in spite of my completely French antecedents), I loved the splendor of the music chosen, chosen with such sensitivity and grace. In that sonic atmosphere we noted all the glories, somber, restrained, quietly joyous of all. The singers were beyond splendid, in my judgment. It demonstrated yet again, as if proof were required, that England knows how to knit together a tremendous program honoring some aspect of history. My family and I spent two years in England, we loved it then, we love it now – not least of all, because of its music.
Thank you so much for your article. Your historical notes enriched the memory of my hearing the exquisite music of the service.
May I also say how excited I am to be writing to THE John Ritter. I have loved your music all the years I have been an organist choir master and now in my retirement years as a choral conductor. Your music is inspiring.
I loved the whole ceremony and the skillfully selected music. I think the procession of all the military units with which Prince Philip had been associated throughout his long life was especially poignant and heartfelt. They all meant it and showed their respect. RIP.
While we could see the glorious Quartet and the conductor, I wish the BBC had shown the organ console and the Organist just for a second at least
Thank you for this wonderful article Sir John. It certainly needed to be said and I found your information so interesting to read. Incidentally, I have always adored singing so many of your Choral musical arrangements and compositions. You are an absolute legend.
As one passionate about piecing together, the word, music, spirituality and liturgy, thank you so much John, for this wonderful and enlightening review. You know, I did not think about it at the time, but you are right, when the lone singer sang “O God our help in ages past”, I was transfixed.
With respect to the wonderful musicians at the service; I think to fit together 3 lay- clerks and add a soprano who is a wonderful soloist and not a lay-clerk by profession, and create such a great consort of voices was very well done. They came over as a wonderfully cohesive group of singers and the reference to them by the ITV presenter as “The Choir” was entirely appropriate.
I decided to watch Channel 3 ITV and, whilst no reviewer focussed on the music, their presenters, to be fair, did make some appropriate and helpful comments about the music.
Also, for once, I would like to commend the TV producers/cameramen for giving some beautiful images of the musicians as they performed; they somehow seemed to achieve intimacy with the choir without being intrusive. I was made to feel that I was there in St George’s with them and not watching on TV. We did not see the organist, but as an organist, I think that was appropriate on this occasion and the presenters mentioned him by name.
Interestingly, Covid-19 has created remote singing by choirs and in this service the fact that the choir were “somewhere else” in the Chapel seemed to add to the power of the music. It took away all feeling of “performance” and focussed on the liturgy (as you say – so important). I am experiencing a similar effect in my own Parish Church. I wonder if this service at Windsor, will create a change in the way we think about the use of musicians in church services when, hopefully, we return to normal. My rector and I are already pondering on this.
So true having a father who played for many films including Jason and the A can,t spell it but sure you know it and the sound of music in the west end .Being a founder member of the RPO .the little to no mention of the music he played can be upsetting yet he just plodded on .Having been and now retired singer apart from one wedding no real praise over the years ,apart from ones love of music does make you wonder why you bother.!!
Spot on, as ever. In the light of the last year, even more pertinent. So many musicians struggling but still there on the button when required. I bemoaned recently the huge differential in response by Oliver Dowden to the recent football shenanigans, as opposed to his reticence towards the performing arts. But surely it’s time the ‘culture’ and ‘sport’ were covered by separate people?
Thank you for a very helpful article on a fine musical offering.
One point concerning the tune to “Eternal Father” seems not to have been noted. John Bacchus Dykes (1823-76) composed the tune for the hymn and it first appeared in Hymns Ancient & Modern in 1861. The tune is called “Melita” which is the name from Classical times of Malta where St Paul was shipwrecked on his journey to Rome, as recorded in Acts Chapter 28. The Royal couple were based in Malta for some time after their marriage in 1947. Thus both words and hymn tune were exactly right.
We watched the service on the Beeb from around 2.30pm and did not notice Vaughan Williams prelude on Rhosymedre (one of our favourites – indeed i have actually played it on Luke’s previous organ in Truro Cathedral !).
As a church musician, I, too, am aware of how the music is woven into the fabric of the service. Helping to create the emotional and artistic interpretation of scripture and worship. Thank you for this article and thank you for writing “For the Beauty of the Earth”.
Mr. Rutter,
Minus your beautifully presented explanations, the music that day was glorious. With your careful commentary the music became even more regal, more blissful, in memory. Thank you!
Thank you Maestro! We’re so used to not getting a mention, I didn’t notice it myself this time! Stunning contributions all round – loved the soprano and her dress – won’t bother looking for the gossip – would have to be envy! Long may our church music live – we are so blessed to have this foundation – and you are in the mix, sir.
Really excellent article,very informative. The music at the service has been much commented on and enjoyed. So lovely to have only four voices enabling beautiful clarity.
so much more emotive than a huge state funeral, I’m sure her majesty would prefer the same.
Praise be to John Rutter! Composers of film music always seem to have been treated as the ‘poor relation’, the movie industry being very tardy in mentioning the music at all. Such an omission lingers today, even in funeral music. Why is the music seen as incidental instead of integral? Are commentators afraid of something they don’t understand and could never hope to emulate? John’s explanation of the connection of keys was illuminating, as was the connection between composers and musicians. This might otherwise have been lost.without his article.Through it, we can discover, understand and perhaps emulate. The Duke, in his wish to inform and educate, would surely have approved.
Thank you for sharing.
I agree totally with your article, John. And just to expand on the Highland Bagpipe music: it was played by Pipe Major Colour Sergeant Peter Grant and is titled ‘The Flowers of the Forest’. This is a lament associated with the 1513 Battle of Flodden (commemorating the defeat of King James IV) and first written down in the 1615 Skene Manuscript. It is also the funeral tune of the Royal Regiment of Scotland and is usually played on Remembrance Sunday and Armistice Day.