Apparently 1 in 5 English have taken the day off to watch the England v Argentina match in the World Cup - and I am about to join them in what should be a ripper. The best I have seen so far is the Ireland - Germany which was drawn at 1 all in the 95th minute - quite an amazing game. Quite getting into this soccer stuff…
So having seen first hand the pomp and ceremony, where do I stand on the monarchy? Well, its made me think about it in a way that I haven’t before. There is no doubt that the people of the UK love their queen, and when they sing God Save the Queen they mean it. There are also many from other countries who love a spectacle. There were a lot of foreigners waving Union Jacks, and not all by a long shot were from commonwealth countries. But do they all love the monarchy? Its a different question and I’m not at all so sure about that.
A lot of the responses to William and Harry (’Show us your Willy’) are more like that to pop stars than to people of substance. Note that I say pop stars here, not rock stars. If you want to know what the difference is, take a look at the lineup of ‘talent’ at the royal ‘rock’ concert. All of the contemporary groups were of that plastic pre-packaged variety that the english pop scene throws up with depressing regularity - Atomic Kitten, S-Club 7 etc, etc. Interestingly, the sound system shows them up for what they are - in the crowd outside, the dense mixing of these groups used to mask their musical inadequacies masks everything, and all one can hear is a drum beat over a tuneless sussurus.
This is my impression of the next generation of the monarchy. I think Charles has proven that he is earnest though arguably his pronouncements are portrayed by the media as being without substance, while Harry and William are just kids, and have been carefully shielded from any necessity or opportunity to venture opinion.
Contrast this with the heads of state of countries with a non-executive president. Mary Robinson, now UN Commissioner for Human Rights, Nelson Mandela, even our own Deane, famously acting as the nation’s conscience on reconciliation, and South Australia’s beloved Dame Roma Mitchell. All of them earned their position and respect through a lifetime of dedication and service, not through an accident of birth. And while the queen is dedicated in the performance of her duty, and personally fulfills what we might expect of a president, do the rest of the hangers on? The great and unfathomable (beacuse still secret) expense of the monarchy is out of proportion to the service they provide. Even some of those closest to the ‘top’ are famously recalcitrant when it comes to service, Margaret for example, and the Duke of Edinburgh.
Much is made of the continuity afforded by a queen, the fact that she has been around for 50 years means that she can achieve things that others cannot. But is this really true? In countries without monarchy, there are those who perform the same function. Most of these are ex politicians, who, freed from the strictures of a ‘party line’ can be refreshingly frank and statesman-like about the topics of the day. Look at the recent performances of people like president Carter in his efforts to promote free and fair elections (ironically outside the US) or in visiting Cuba, or Malcolm Fraser and Gough Whitlam in pushing the cause of reconciliation. These roles are inaccessible to any monarch - bound as she is to avoid any hint of politics, and the country is better for it.
A head of state can say what needs to be said, without fear for the polls. Australia desperately needs one now, as the government’s crony Hollingworth obediently buries his head while Australia’s facade of respect for human rights is steadily exposed.
Guest list starts with the family and friends, and while this is acceptable and understandable for THE QUEEN, it is not for the country.
On Tuesday 4th of June I was at St Paul’s for ‘A Service of Celebration and Thanksgiving on the Occaision of the Golden Jubille of Her Majesty the Queen’. It included lots of silly hats and robes and a truly memorable performance of ‘I was Glad’ complete with the five fat vaginas …
People you meet on the tube - 9am, and we are on the way to St Paul’s for the service. There is a woman opposite, also dressed up to the nines. We get to talking, and Pam asks: ‘Where are you sitting? We’re in the North Transept’. ‘Oh - I’m processing’ - turns out she is one of the moderators of a cross faith group, and later that afternoon is due to spend 15 minutes with the queen alone.
When we got to the cathedral I discovered what ‘Morning Dress’ is - its tails with grey pin striped trousers and grey waistcoat - plenty of it about too. The rest of the men were wearing ‘Full Dress Uniform with Sword’ - quite a special sight. Every variation you can imagine of braid fur and velvet, and a few I don’t think you could ever think about unless you were in the same opium delirium that the Victorians were when they thought of these things. Makes the Gilbert and Sullivan Society’s costume shed seem like an op-shop. The thing about costumes like this is, they look rather strange in isolation, but when you put them all together the whole is extraordinary.
Some examples spring to mind; a cleric dressed in what seemed to be 18th century collar and coat and top hat, an imposing man dressed in one of those ridiculously impractical military redcoats with a sword and a chrome plated breastplate (no he was not in an honour guard, but sat in a seat for the service), several people in blue gowns with fur trimmings (guildhall members? lords?) some wearing red gowns with what appear to be black cloth purses or rosettes stuck to the back of their right shoulders, the Lord Chancellor with his cosume straight out of Iolanthe.
Some of the politicians even I recognised - Tony and Cherie Blair, Maggie Thatcher (who is short and looking very old) with husband Dennis, Tony Mandelson, the blind Secretary of State, with his seeing eye dog, John Major etc. Interestingly the pollies were relegated to the same side door we came in, while most of the aristocracy came in the front doors. I can understand why Blair might want more of a role in the celebrations - the impression of the crown inviting the elected representatives of the people under sufferance is very much evident in the event, and I found myself reminded of the UK’s long history of tension between the crown and parliament. The days of Charles and Cromwell are not really that far behind us.
The music was the highlight for me - particularly of course Parry’s ‘I was Glad’ - every choristers fave, complete with London Brass, Organ, the choristers of the Chapel Royal and the Choir of St Pauls, and (dare I say it) the five fat vaginas. The only bad part was not being able to join in. the interpretation is somewhat different from the versions that I am familiar with - the english are altogether more restrained, shaped phrases where our version is much more ’straightforward’. I like both versions - the british one is more beautiful but the uni choir one is more exciting - the english ‘I was pleasantly pleased but really expected to go into the gates of the lord anyway’ while the IV choir tradition is more like ‘Here I was humming in the shower and now I’m singing in paradise in a bloody huge choir! Wow!’.
Rutter’s Psalm 150, specially commissioned, is a collage (if I were really rude I’d say a pastiche) of his own Gloria - fairly predictable and not very memorable, and favouring brilliance (in the sense that a trumpet is brilliant) over content. The responses, sung by three boy choristers in the whispering gallery were quite effective, but the piece as a whole left me unmoved.
The second commissioned piece - John Scott’s setting of ‘Behold, O God’ was much more interesting. The piece is reminiscent of those of David Hamilton, starting simply and building up to a cluster. It’s a simple setting, contemplative in contrast to Rutter’s lurid piece.
Before the service (we were in our seats at 9:30) there were 14 organ voluntaries and 10 pieces performed by the London Brass - I’d love to be able to report on them but the congregation were filtering in and talking so it was mostly just background music.
An hour before the ceremony, the Yeomen of the Guard and Her Majesty’s Body Guard (the ones with the feather phalluses on their heads) took up their spots under the dome. A little later the Kings of Arms, Heralds and Pursuivants made the trek to the west (front) doors. These guys have the queen’s arms sewn into their uniforms, and look quite amazing. I have no idea what they do apart from look good - but they do look very good.
When the queen (or, as the program puts it THE QUEEN) arrived, we could just hear the fanfares from outside the building, and when she passed down the nave the cross that preceded her and the wave of bowed heads was the best indication of her location.
In retrospect the attitude towards her from those inside was strikingly different to that outside. Outside, everyone cranes to see her, children held up high, adults holding their cameras up so they can one day say - I was there! Inside it is deference of the aristocracy to the first among equals - a strange kind of reverse democracy - literally a different world. One could not imagine them rushing home to the videotaped record of the show and pausing it as she passed to say - There I am - look! I felt more of a studied disinterest - You are Queen, and I defer to you, but we are of the same blood, You and I.
The concert at the palace was extraordinarily bad. One of the presenters had the gall to say ‘If there was a World Cup of Rock & Roll the UK would win it every time’. Given the ‘talent’ on display here that would have to be the overstatement of the century …
Most of the concert was talentless pap like S Club 7. If you are not english you won’t have heard of them - they are the UK equivalent of Australia’s Bardot - a pop band manufactured by TV and completely lacking in talent.
The only real talent on show - from stalwarts like the leftover Queen, Tom Jones, Eric Clapton and Phil Collins - was prostituted to duet with these plastic cut outs. Just a couple of weeks ago the media were bemoaning the fact that no UK group was in the US top 40 for the first time in 40 years. With talent like this it is no wonder. There is real contemporary talent in the UK, but none of it was on show here. Maybe in their attempt to appeal to the masses they chose what they felt the masses would like - mediocrity. The one stand out performance was Ozzy Osbourne’s - an island of originality in a sea of ennui.
Having stood through this on the Mall, I was in the mood for a decent bit of Sturm und Drang, and fortunately the firework display did not dissapoint. The Queen (the human one, not the pop group) came out to the Mall, accompanied by hundreds of children carrying chinese lanterns. About 100m from the Victoria memorial she got out of the car and mounted a platform, where she ignited a touchpaper for the jubilee beacon.
Some seconds later, the fuse set off a rocket that flew along a guide wire to light thhe gas beacon, in a flame that leapt up 25m and started a fireworks display. Unlike most displays, that are primarily associated with the sky, this one was focussed on Buckingham Palace, and involved every possible variation of fireworks from the building - rockets leaping from the roof, cascading silver falls of light, jets of silver.
And while this was going on, the front of the palace was lit with a series of projected images - from plain colours (gold, blue) to evocative montages of children’s drawings of carriages and horses moving across the front of the palace. The effect was quite stunning, all the more so because of the simplicity of the idea, and the iconic status of the building.
The Queen herself stood for the entire time on the podium, unprotected by screens or walls. This was another interesting thing - there were no security checks - no bag searches, no alcohol bans (many people openly carried in six packs or bottles of wine in shopping bags. For all that the crowd was remarkably well behaved - over the two days of celebrations, with 1 million each day, there were only 3 arrests. Astounding. I have heard that the royal family are not considered a security risk from Islamic terrorists because, like all the european royal families, they are descendents of Mohammed. But its still strange to see such public figures so apparently unprotected.
