As the national psyche celebrates a coronation in the middle of Spring, how did it commemorate a state funeral in the middle of Autumn?
With our focus on mental health coinciding with the Coronation of Charles III and Camilla, we offer a first-hand account of the last major historic royal event, the State Funeral of Elizabeth II, and its effects on collective mental health of the nation's state with the change of its Head of State. In fact, such was the outpouring of grief, the government issued official advice on the matter alongside many other institutions.
Transition Nation
Five days after moving from Scotland to England to continue my tertiary education, Queen Elizabeth II died after 70 years on the throne. In studying journalism as an undergraduate in Edinburgh and now photography as a postgraduate in York, if I were truly serious about practising photojournalism professionally, then it would be remiss of me, I thought if I didn’t travel to London to record (subjectively) the preparations for such breaking news myself. While I couldn’t commit to joining the queue, I could, at least, walk the length of it to ascertain the atmosphere of its participants and the public in the city at large.
Mood Music
From my arrival at London King’s Cross to my departure, I would have 24 hours to write on and capture the scene from my perspective as an (objective) ordinary citizen. What struck me most was the collective sombreness; the sensibility of respect that appeared on the emotional faces of the people I observed in parks, squares and stations, on bridges, embankments and the tube that connects them all.
Green Park was re-carpeted by floral micro-fireworks and those who came to read the accompanying messages of an anonymous grief that somehow articulated their own. Parliament Square Garden was populated by as many international media as foreign languages, whom, despite their multi-culture, were seemingly all united by a similar understanding.
Purple Reign
From journey’s end at Westminster Hall, the line wound itself through Victoria Tower Gardens South, over Lambeth Bridge and past St Thomas’ Hospital. From there it continued alongside the River Thames – and more associated press – passing London Bridge (its tenth) before night fell and lights rose. In honour of the late monarch, the majesty of Tower Bridge, HMS Belfast and the Shard illuminated platinum; a moment in history I was grateful to have witnessed.
To accommodate the additional passenger demand for service and facilities to the capital from across the country, like myself, the train operator London North Eastern Railway (LNER) provided one of their Azuma sets for the weary without accommodation to rest. So, under one of the two great arched train sheds on platform eight in the early morning, I wrote the following poetry to accompany the photography and, hopefully, encapsulate my experience in a more artistic and, therefore, memorable fashion than mere reportage:
Elizabeth Eye
A changing of the guard has come
for that which never changed.
What in mind was expected
but in heart was not arranged.
A personage so personal
to everyone that came.
For reasons only they will know
beyond that face and name.
Behold the second river
as it flows through city streets.
For hours and miles, through day and night,
the closure that it greets.
Hundreds, thousands, millions queue
to pay their due respect.
To bid farewell to constancy
that's now in retrospect.
Kaleidoscopic scents of spring,
the senses it belies.
It overwhelms solemnity
and halts autumnal breeze.
From palace gates to public parks,
the colours symbolise.
The coats, the hats, the gloves, the scarves -
a well-worn leader wise.
A presence of emotions
quite intangible in size.
A perfect legacy is there -
description it defies.
To read beyond the cover
of the books on the bookshelf.
Be everything to everyone
yet something for yourself.
What happens when the magnet
in a moral compass fails?
One hopes that truth and justice,
faith and unity prevails.
Why manifest a destiny
of service to compare?
To talk the talk then walk the walk -
the fact that one was there.
From notes and coins and stamps
the lady peers beyond the throne.
A figure most have never met
but feel they've always known.
What once was held in trust for us,
the face of Britain smiles.
Witness progress in the wreath,
the orb, these sceptred isles.
Wealthy yet uneasy lies
the head that wears a crown.
Uneasy are its people still
when London Bridge is down.
Keep calm and carry on
as pomp and circumstance save face.
As bells toll out flags fly half mast
and heads; they bow in grace.
Ubiquitous. Ambiguous.
A prophecy foretold
three quarters of a century
a promise to uphold.
Iconoclastic. A dynastic
monarchy survives.
One tapestry is now complete -
it wove through all our lives.
Ascension and procession
mark the operatic scale -
the duty bound that marches
on beyond the fairy-tale.
Historic and majestic,
the example that ascends.
As diamonds are forever
though its wearer's journey ends.
In these ideals of dignity
and discipline it shone.
Embodying their country
from an age that's now long gone.
In memory, the spirit lives.
The body lay in state.
In reverence, in deference;
Elizabeth the Great.
HM Queen Elizabeth II (1926 - 2022)
HM King Charles (2022 - )
Words and photographs by Adam Zawadzki