He wrote the music for “The Brides of Dracula” and “The Horror of Frankenstein,” and a ballet after a scenario of Robert Helpmann (of “The Red Shoes” notoriety) inspired by the vision of a naked Katharine Hepburn. Sounds like Master of the Queen’s Music material to me. Not to have included Malcolm Williamson in a subplot on “The Crown” was surely a wasted opportunity.

Williamson, born in Sydney, Australia, in 1931, was the first non-Briton to be appointed Master, in 1975. From the start, the decision was not without controversy. Sir William Walton quipped that they had given the job to the wrong Malcolm. He was implying that Malcolm Arnold would have been a better choice – a bold statement, since Arnold was prone to alcoholism, promiscuity, manic-depression, and possible bi-polar disorder. He once shot himself in the foot to get out of war service and attempted suicide several times. Still, he did manage to churn out much delightful music-to-order, often lickety-split, and in an immediately accessible idiom. So who knows, maybe Arnold would have been a good choice.

Williamson was always an establishment outlier. Though he arrived in England in his late teens, his antipodean origins led to sotto voce grumblings that his Royal appointment was but a utilitarian one, “cementing the cracks in the Commonwealth,” as Walton put it.

Whether or not a sense of alienation contributed to a kind of paralysis in the face of overwhelming pressure, Williamson developed an unfortunate reputation of being very bad with deadlines. Most particularly, he failed to complete a symphony in time for the Queen’s Golden Jubilee in 1977. His ambitious “Mass for Christ the King,” also intended for the occasion, was also delivered late. Significantly, he was the first Master of the Queen’s (or King’s) Music in over a century not to be knighted.

Following the Jubilee debacle, his output slowed, though he was seldom unproductive. In all, he wrote seven completed symphonies, concertos for piano, violin, organ, harp, and saxophone, and numerous other orchestral, choral, chamber, and instrumental works.

Williamson suffered from ill health in his later years. He too may have turned to the bottle as a means to numb himself against stress and depression. However, those close to him assert that, toward the end of his life, he never drank, but rather struggled with aphasia, the effect of a series of strokes.

Be that as it may, following his death in 2003, the parameters of the appointment were revised. The position is no longer one for life, but rather a fixed, ten-year term. Sir Peter Maxwell Davies was the first to serve under the new guidelines. He was succeeded in 2015 by Judith Weir, the first woman to hold the post (and yes, she is still referred to as “Master”).

What’s puzzling is that, for someone who had a reputation for being unable to meet deadlines, Williamson was able to write a fair amount of music for the cinema. The films were admittedly of varying quality. It’s always amusing to find his name in the opening credits of Hammer horror movies. But it proves that he could write to order, and he could write very quickly, perhaps when he wasn’t under the microscope.

The ballet “The Display” (1964) takes its name from the fanciful mating dance of the lyrebird. Robert Helpmann first witnessed the lyrebird’s courtship display on a visit to Victoria’s Sherbrooke Forest at the behest of Katharine Hepburn. The pair visited Australia in 1955 as leads in a touring Shakespeare company underwritten by the Old Vic. There are lots of fun photos of Helpmann and Hepburn on the internet (here seen holding koalas). Helpmann claimed that his idea for the ballet was inspired by a dream, in which he witnessed Hepburn naked on a dais surrounded by lyrebirds. He would dedicate his contribution to the ballet to her.

The scenario presents a competition between several suitors, young men at a picnic, preening and practicing their football moves, hoping to earn the affections of a young woman. Things become more aggressive as the action unfurls. Debussy’s “Jeux” could have been a lot different had it been conceived in the wilds of Australia!

What’s especially interesting is the decision to portray the barbarity in a picnic setting, as opposed to making it just another lurid Aboriginal showpiece put together by white men.

You can see it performed here:

Happy birthday, Malcolm Williamson!

Williamson plays his attractive Piano Concerto No. 2

A rare recording of his Symphony No. 6

“Mass of the Feast of Christ the King”

“With Proud Thanksgiving”

Two Christmas Hymns

Lento for Strings

Theme music for “The Brides of Dracula”

End credits for “The Horror of Frankenstein”

“Nothing But the Night,” starring Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing

Malcolm Williamson in conversation with Bruce Duffie

http://www.kcstudio.com/williamson2.html