LONDON.- The call from Buckingham Palace came on a summer morning, when Errollyn Wallen, wearing a pink onesie with pom-pom trim, had just finished a breakfast of toast and marmalade at her seaside home in Scotland.
A private secretary for the British royal family had phoned with momentous news: King Charles III wanted Wallen to serve as Master of the King’s Music, an honorary position roughly equivalent to that of poet laureate.
Wallen, a composer and a pianist who was born in Belize, a former British colony, has spent her career challenging conventions in classical music.
“I was astonished,” Wallen, 66, said in a recent Zoom interview. “I paused for a few moments, then cheerfully accepted.”
Wallen, whose appointment was announced in August, is the first Black woman to serve in the role, which was created during the reign of King Charles I in the 17th century. While there are no fixed duties, Wallen is part of the royal household and will likely be called upon to compose pieces for special occasions, including weddings, jubilees and coronations. She is expected to hold the post for 10 years.
“I want to champion music for all,” she said. “I see the arts and music as the lifeblood of a nation. But we are sadly heading for a world in which adults have no idea how music is made.”
Wallen makes music in many styles: classical, pop, minimalism, the blues. She has written symphonies, chamber pieces, operas and ballets, and her work often explores social and political themes. Her oratorio “Carbon 12” pays tribute to the history of coal mining in South Wales, and the orchestral work “Mighty River” explores the legacy of slavery, drawing on Black spirituals.
She is no stranger to the royal family: In 2007, Charles, then the Prince of Wales, made her a Member of the Order of the British Empire, and in 2021, Princess Anne elevated her to commander. She has written music for royal occasions, including Queen Elizabeth II’s Golden and Diamond jubilees.
She will soon meet with Charles, a classical music fan who studied the cello, piano and trumpet, to outline her ideas. She is contemplating a flash musical event in which the rooms at Buckingham Palace are briefly occupied by composers or performers.
“We have a monarch who cares about the arts,” she said, “and that doesn’t happen very regularly.”
In an interview, Wallen spoke about her Caribbean roots, the obstacles she has faced as a woman of color in classical music and the time she spotted Elizabeth tapping her foot along to her music. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.
Q: What relevance does this position, nearly 400 years old, have in today’s world?
A: We live in a time where there has never been a greater consumption of music: on computers, on phones, in the car, on vinyl. And yet we’re getting further and further from the hands-on experience of the making of it, or the playing of it. We need to bring music into people’s lives and allow them to take part.
Q: What are your earliest musical memories?
A: When I was a baby, my parents said I never seemed to cry. If I woke in the morning before them, I would be singing. They said the first song they heard me sing was “When I Fall in Love.”
There came a point when I was about 9, and I felt slightly tormented by these sounds in my head: a string orchestra with electronics. I felt they needed to come out somehow. And that’s when my uncle said, “You might be a composer.”
Q: You were born in Belize City but moved to London with your family when you were 2. Do you still feel a connection to Belize?
A: I did not return until 1999. I loved it. It explained so much to me. I have this need to be by the water. My mother is from a family of fishing people. She was always talking about fish, and she loved having her hands in the water. I’m the same.
Q: Your parents left London for New York when you were 6, and you were raised mostly by your uncle and aunt. In your 2023 memoir, “Becoming a Composer,” you wrote that you “grew up feeling worthless, neglected, intimidated and confused.” Did music offer an escape?
A: The moment I really seriously started to learn the piano, it was not just an escape, it felt like my actual home. I felt 100% alive. I formed my own cocoon of sound. I felt energized, as if the world opened up. To this day, if I’m at the piano, I feel I can solve most things.
Q: You played in heavy metal, soul, pop, funk and other bands in your 20s and 30s. What did you learn?
A: It helped me so much with versatility, and I gained respect for other kinds of musicians. They didn’t necessarily read and write music, but they were brilliant musicians nevertheless.
Q: What challenges did you face early in your career?
A: As a young composer, I had the feeling that my music would never be performed. There was very little place for music by women or Black composers. But somehow I didn’t seem to get bitter or angry. I developed my work out of the limelight. By the time people really began to notice me, I had many works under my belt.
Q: How were you treated back then?
A: Nobody took me seriously; it was awful. Once, I was working on a new opera, and the conductor just didn’t want to be there. I went to rehearsal and asked, “Could we just play that part slightly faster?” And he said, “No, I’m going to play it at the metronome marking you’ve got here.” He was so difficult and obstructive.
Q: In 2020, you were the target of racist attacks when you composed a reimagined version of the hymn “Jerusalem” for the Proms, the BBC’s classical music festival. You dedicated your piece to the Windrush generation, British residents of Caribbean heritage.
A: The outcry came not because of the music, but because a Black woman was working with what was seen as a hallowed part of British culture. The fact is “Jerusalem” is a hymn I grew up with. My parents and my grandparents (in Belize) were brought up knowing the same hymns as in England. What struck me is how little is understood about what is going on in many of the Commonwealth countries.
Q: What is the secret of writing royal music?
A: The music should bring people together. Years ago, I was commissioned to write a piece reacting to Handel’s “Music for the Royal Fireworks.” In studying that score, I was so impressed with the deftness and directness of the music, and the tremendous skillfulness in establishing the tone very quickly, in bright primary colors.
Q: In 2002, you composed “Rani, Queen of the Stars” for the queen’s Golden Jubilee, which was performed in Slough, a town west of London.
A: I sat right behind the queen and Prince Philip and I saw her foot tapping. I thought, “Well, I’ve done something right.” But I resisted the urge to photograph her ankle.
Q: Did she say anything about your music?
A: After the performance, the queen was introduced to the conductor, not to me. She thought the conductor had written it. It’s fine because my job was done, and the performers were just fantastic. But it was a special piece. Never mind. I’ve gotten over it.
Q: You crossed paths with the queen again at Buckingham Palace and elsewhere. What did you learn about her?
A: On one occasion, she told me how she enjoyed singing, playing music and dancing as a child. I realized just how close she was still to her childhood. I was genuinely very sad when she died. She was so lively and funny. She was really good company.
Q: You keep two homes in Scotland: a house in the Orkney archipelago and a lighthouse in Strathy, in the Scottish Highlands.
A: To see sky and to be very close to nature is such a wonderful thing. I love variety, and I just relish living by the sea. As a composer, you must have solitude and quiet every day.
Q: You’ve had a lifelong love affair with cake. A chapter of your memoir is devoted to the subject, and you once wrote a piece called “Fondant.”
A: I was on a radio program recently and they asked which luxury item I would take on an imaginary island. I said a Steinway D piano, in which the middle pedal operates a self-dispensing cake flap. It would probably be Battenberg cake.
This article originally appeared in
The New York Times.
