Although those of us privileged to be London correspondents often do stories on the Royal Family, we rarely have the opportunity to see them in person. The really important events are shot by the Royal Rota, a form of pooling arrangement, usually handled by the BBC.
So it was an unusual experience for my colleague Dan Hodgson and I to actually attend and shoot an event with the Prince of Wales.
Although he is first in line to the throne, Prince Charles has slipped down the list of most-newsworthy members of the House of Windsor. His sons and daughter-in-law have long since eclipsed him in star power.
Far removed from his days of unwelcome intense coverage during his first marriage, he now seems content to be away from the brightest spotlight, leaving him able to pursue his interests. He seems genuinely happy in his marriage to Camilla and unconcerned that his suits, haircut and mannerisms might be considered unfashionable, even a bit archaic.
The Prince of Wales is in the awkward position of being the longest-serving heir in British history. Now aged 64, with his 86-year-old mother in excellent health, he would seem to have some time to wait.
Although he sometimes induces eye rolling with his comments on modern architecture or education he has to his credit carved out a role for himself with a wide variety of charities.
It was one of those endeavours that brought us inside the walls of his London residence, Clarence House.
The occasion was a meeting of his Business in the Community initiative — a program that encourages social responsibility. Hundreds of British firms take part and a dozen Canadian CEOs were invited to attend a session and then get a private meeting with the prince to talk about launching something similar in Canada.
The Royal Rota was not shooting it, so we were allowed in with our camera to record Charles’s speech and then a few minutes at the beginning of his session with the Canadians.
A friendly and efficient press officer sent us the required security forms and advised us to dress in business attire; with no “trainers” (that’s British for running shoes).
At the appointed hour, we arrived at the entrance to St. James’s Palace, Dan leaving his trainers at home and donning a tie for the occasion.
As I learned that day, St. James’s Palace is actually a complex of buildings a short walk from Buckingham Palace. Clarence House is part of it.
As we were led in I spotted signs for the parking spots for Prince William and Prince Harry. They were vacant.
Dan couldn’t resist stopping to snap a shot on his phone. Whoops. Not allowed, advised the press officer politely.
As we carried on, I noted the spot for the Princess Royal, with a Smart Car just beside — not likely Princess Anne’s wheels.
We were ushered into a grand hall, filled with businesspeople listening to presentations about the BiTC program. If you have ever visited the state rooms at Buckingham Palace, you would get the idea — high ceilings, walls covered with priceless works of art — usual décor for British royal residences.
At the appointed time, the MC advised us all to stand for the arrival of the prince and he made his way to a front table.
His bespoke suits are famously provided by a Savile Row tailor, each made with the finest cloth cut to his exact measurements and worth the equivalent of a month’s exorbitant rent for a London flat. But I could not help but notice that its back was badly wrinkled and that it appeared to be the only double-breasted jacket in the hall.
As I said, HRH appears to worry little about fashion.
As he walked to the podium he ever-so-slightly stumbled. There was really no risk of him falling but for a fleeting moment I caught my breath, seeing the prospect of a Global News worldwide exclusive: video capturing the heir apparent doing a face plant.
He spoke easily and earnestly, clearly passionate about the cause. He even poked fun at himself, saying that he has led the program so long he feared he was soon to meet the sons and daughters of those who were with him at the start.
As he is prone to do, he stepped into the political realm with a commentary on the state of British education.
“Life skills…developing self-esteem, self confidence, looking people in the eye — all these things are not taught in schools, or hardly at all,” he said with a worried gaze.
“What it seems we’re lacking is that element of… character education, alongside all the bits and pieces, which are of course important. But if at the end of the day you can’t actually cope with the world out there, the kind of interaction that’s required with people, it’s impossible it seems to me to manage, let alone be employable.”
His comments generated a story in the Daily Mail tabloid the following day, where they were characterized as an “attack” on British schools. The writer also pointed out the irony of his comments, given that the prince hated his boyhood years at the Gordonstoun school in Scotland, which is a famously tough place with a reputation for ‘character-building.’
Royal utterances are constantly subjected to these kinds of painstaking analyses in the British papers.
After his talk we were allowed to shoot Charles shaking hands at a reception and then were brought over to the nearby Clarence House, to the formal dining room where he would be meeting the Canadians.
The staff people were efficiently setting out name tags and a tea setting for each place. Trays of biscuits from Charles’s own Duchy Originals line were strategically arranged.
Dan noted a small silver carving of what appeared to be a bear on the table in front of the prince’s place.
“It’s his buzzer,” advised his helpful staff person. The prince pushes it when he wants tea. Downton Abbey lives on.
Behind me I saw a display of fine china plates. Old. Likely of great historical interest. I edged away slightly, fearing a stray elbow would shatter something I could not afford to replace.
On the mantel over the fireplace there were two silver mugs, engraved with the initials of King George VI and dated 1937, his coronation year. Above there was a striking painting of a royal woman. She was slender, with short dark hair and appeared to be in her 30s.
I asked the staffer if it was the Queen Mother. Correct. He explained that it was started in the late 1930s by Augustus John, who was so nervous and intimidated that he could not bear to look her in the eye.
Officially it was considered unfinished because the onset of the war ended the sittings. John, I was told, was never satisfied with it but the Queen Mother was very pleased and gave it this place of honour. Clarence House was her former residence.
I pulled out my phone for a shot. The staffer politely but firmly (and too late) advised that no photographs were allowed because it is part of the Royal Collection.
Even the Clarence House loo was decorated. On a shelf inside the nearby men’s room, three thick volumes were neatly stacked: two entitled Naval Medals, and one Le Bateau Ivre (The Drunken Boat), a 19th Century poem by Arthur Rimbaud. I wondered if guests were encouraged to balance the hefty tomes on their knees and peruse them while heeding the call of nature.
Back at the dining room the CEOs filtered in and took their places. A few minutes later, Charles arrived and worked his way around the table with a smile, a few words and a handshake for each of his guests, getting curtsies and head bows in return.
“I don’t know how he does it,” his press officer whispered admiringly in my ear.
As they sat, I noticed that someone had lit the fire in the fireplace. These captains of Canadian business were getting the full royal treatment.
We were allowed to shoot five minutes of the meeting, longer than the typical photo op we would get with Prime Minister Harper and then courteously shown the door.
Nothing broken. Whew.
Sean is Global National’s Europe Bureau Chief, based in London. Follow him on Twitter: @SMallenGlobal.
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