Service at St Paul’s
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.