Capturing Britain’s week of mourning for the Queen – a photo essay | Queen Elizabeth II | The Guardian

2022-09-24 03:05:32 By : Ms. Jing Lin

Memories and reflections from the Guardian’s team of photographers on recording a historic week

The public have turned out in their thousands to pay their respects to the Queen, some perhaps motivated by wanting to be part of the historic moment, and many by a personal sense of loss and grief.

Here, Guardian photographers discuss how they have found shooting the ceremonial and informal aspects of mourning for the Queen over the last week.

Crowds gathered all night outside Buckingham Palace after the announcement of the Queen’s death. There were occasional rounds of applause and choruses of the national anthem

I was asked to try to get a photo of the state hearse coming into London from Northolt. I cycled to Ladbroke Grove to scout out a high vantage point. A bloke in a breakers yard made a call to someone called Dickie. He suggested a tower block near the A40 but he didn’t know anyone living there. I winged it and a lovely lady let me in and showed me her flat. We decided next door would be better and knocked. A lady gingerly looked from behind her door, wrapped in a bath towel and head cover. “OK,” she said quietly, “Come in.”

Umbrellas created shade so people could watch the procession taking the Queen by gun carriage into Westminster Hall. Right: floral tributes to the Queen were placed in any available space outside Buckingham Palace

A man cleans his teeth while queueing to see the Queen lying in state

Moments later I was treated to a cup of tea, a bowl of delicious, warming, Ghanaian soup and we chatted about our sons, the Queen and her unstinting dedication and duty. It was Evelyn’s birthday.

I positioned myself somewhat precariously on top of the plastic bags and suitcases filling every inch of an 8th floor balcony. Craning around the corner of the building I waited for the cavalcade. I took five photos, filed them, and cycled home in a torrential downpour. On the way I made a short diversion to see the first people queueing to pay their respects to the Queen.

The first people in the queue, near Lambeth Bridge, to pay their respects to the Queen at her lying in state in Westminster Hall

“We’re not here because we’re mad. We’re here because we’re proud,” said Glyn Norris from Loughton. I couldn’t agree more.

And belated happy birthday, Evelyn (and thank you).

Crowds begin to gather at the Victoria Memorial in front of Buckingham Palace to mourn the Queen’s death

This is my third royal funeral, after covering the funerals of Diana, Princess of Wales and the Queen Mother. The thing I have noticed the most is the presence of smartphones and people recording their every action. It is very weird to be a photographer photographing people also taking pics. I struggle to find anyone without a phone and actually being in the moment. Photographing the passing of the Queen has involved hours of wandering through the crowds, or standing in the rain in one spot for hours waiting for something to happen.

Above: people take photos as the hearse carrying the Queen’s coffin arrives at Buckingham Palace. Right: mourners at Buckingham Palace photograph the changing of the guard

Left: a boy stands on the railings at the edge of Green Park to try to get a better view of the events in front of Buckingham Palace. Right: a police officer is one of hundreds deployed at Buckingham Palace for the arrival of the Queen’s coffin

People have been so polite overall and it has been amazingly easy to take photographs. It has been a generally warm, communal atmosphere. There isn’t the shock and grief of Diana’s funeral but instead a sadness at the passing of an era, and a great appreciation of a queen and her life of service.

A rainbow over the Victoria Memorial outside Buckingham Palace about an hour before the Queen’s death was announced

I took this shot of a rainbow over the Victoria Memorial outside Buckingham Palace about an hour before the Queen’s death was announced. It was a memorable and powerful place to hear the news. Given the number of news crews and passersby who had begun to gather outside the Palace after news of the Queen’s declining health had been released, there was little to no phone signal. This meant that it was the flag being lowered over Buckingham Place that alerted me and the rest of the crowd to the news. The crowd fell almost totally silent, and there was an immediate and palpable change in atmosphere that was extraordinary to witness. I’m not sure I’d have believed it unless I’d been there, but it was as if you could feel the era changing almost in an instant.

Mourners and onlookers outside Buckingham Palace on the day after the Queen’s death

These three images were taken the day after the news of the Queen’s death was announced, when the crowds that gathered at Buckingham Palace were less shocked but still pretty sombre. There seems to me to be a strong sense of people wanting to come in person to witness history; to be able to say: I too was there. I felt the same urge as a photographer.

Pauline leaves flowers and queues to pay her respects.

I shot Pauline three days later. She had emigrated from Jamaica in the late 1950s. She only saw the Queen in person once, when she was a girl in Kingston, but as a nurse at St George’s and the Royal Free she tended to members of the Queen’s family, and her brother received his OBE from the Queen at Buckingham Palace. She had been brought to the palace today by her grandson Dylan. When I met her she was standing at the gates and weeping. “She was so much history,” she said.

Mourners and onlookers leave flowers and queue to pay their respects as the Queen’s body is returned to London from Edinburgh

The scale of the floral tributes being left in Green Park is very moving. I’ve been glad to see that the plastic and cellophane wrappings have been removed for recycling and volunteers have moved the flowers so that they will naturally begin composting. The rain has caused the ink to run on many of the notes, but the sentiments (almost universally, thanks and sadness) are still legible.

King Charles III and the Queen Consort arrive at Buckingham Palace the day after the Queen’s death to greet well-wishers and look at the floral tributes that have been laid at the gates

I hadn’t really planned to shoot the King’s arrival at his new home, Buckingham Palace. I was just intending to have a poke around outside to see how the floral tributes were looking. I brought my giant monopod (a single-legged camera support), thinking that there might be a sea of flowers reminiscent of scenes after the death of Diana to photograph from above. But as I joined the steady stream of people working their way toward the palace, it quickly became clear that something else was about to happen. The police were beginning to block the roadways. An amenable-looking bobby let me cross the now “sterile” road outside the palace and I found myself a spot in the middle of the crowds. A helicopter buzzed nearby, heralding the arrival of the King’s cavalcade from RAF Northolt in west London, and I had just enough time to launch my camera skyward with the giant pole.

When the car arrived everyone suddenly lifted their arms in the air, thrusting their phones upward to catch a glimpse of the King. Shooting using a large monopod relies on a wireless connection between phone and camera, but as so many people were simultaneously shooting and sharing, my connection became very weak, so I only managed to take one picture every five seconds or so. Luckily, I captured this frame just as King Charles emerged from his car. He’s not facing the camera but that’s OK – we know who he is and what’s happening. What’s nice is that (almost) every single other person in the photograph is looking at him.

The scene outside Buckingham Palace, moments after the news broke that the Queen has died

On the Thursday I had received a call from the desk to say that I should get to Buckingham Palace ASAP, as news was trickling in that the Queen was gravely ill. Her immediate family were all on the way to Balmoral, where doctors had been expressing their concern for her health. The mood outside the palace was one of sombre expectation and speculation. At about 6.30pm, the flag above Buckingham Palace lowered to half-mast, signalling that the Queen had died. I was aware that the next step was for a sign to be brought to the palace gates, notifying of the passing of the Queen, so I tried to keep an eye on where exactly that might happen. I found myself standing right where a small group of police officers had arrived to clear a section of the railings. I stood fast and held position, right next to the officer, as security personnel brought forward a temporary barrier to keep the crowds at bay, in anticipation of the arrival of the sign. Before long, two downcast figures emerged from a set of steps at the front of the palace and slowly made their way straight towards me. I was able to take photographs as they approached, pushed the sign through the railings and fixed it there, for all to read.

A sign is brought out to the front of Buckingham Palace notifying of the death of Queen Elizabeth II

A tribute to Queen Elizabeth II at Piccadilly Circus the day after she died

I was outside Buckingham Palace when the death of the Queen was announced and I was fortunate enough to be one of the photographers at Westminster Palace when her coffin was brought in for the lying in state.

Witnessing these events has been incredibly moving and it has reminded me of the time immediately after Diana’s death 25 years ago. My memories from then are of a vast sea of flowers and large, silent crowds, stunned disbelief and grief.

Walking up the Mall to Buckingham Palace the day after the Queen’s death

The Queen’s death has obviously evoked similar feelings in many people. In times of great division in this country, it has been in a sense comforting to realise that we all loved the Queen.

Flowers and tributes outside Buckingham Palace the day after the Queen died

Maddison, six, and her mother, Elizabeth, came to Buckingham Palace to pay their respects

First-time visitors to London must be open-mouthed at all the costumed ceremonies, military parades, marching bands and gun salutes happening all around them.

This is different to the royal funeral (Diana’s) I covered as a photojournalist 27 years ago. No emotional drama this time, just polite crowds ambling around Buckingham Palace and St James’s Park, being herded into queues and behind barriers. All wanting to soak up the pomp and pageantry, to be part of something big.

The King waves to the crowds as he leaves Buckingham Palace

And the selfies … I’ve never seen such a frenzy of selfies. As a professional photographer carrying cameras, it’s been frankly surreal as I’ve negotiated my way around SW1 to be told by someone in a hi-vis jacket that I can’t go “there” because I haven’t got the written permission, while all around me a forest of hands holding up mobile phones film and snap everything in sight! Needless to say I gave them the slip …

Members of the public at the gates of Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh

People arrive, steeped in awe, deepening the carpet of flowers with their own offerings. The crackling lightning of flashguns against the rain-frosted windows of moving cars. New rituals and old rituals unfold before you – framed by late gothic architecture – recorded copiously on outstretched iPhones. The compliant crowds, unquestioning, like a meandered river held firm by its banks. Then you take the camera from your eye and regain your horizon and depart.

The Queen’s coffin is carried into St Giles’ Cathedral for a service of prayer and reflection

The public line the street to watch the Queen’s coffin pass by

The Queen’s coffin enters the gates to the Palace of Westminster alongside the Queen’s Guards

During the procession of the Queen’s coffin from Buckingham Palace to Westminster, I was stationed with my cameras outside the main gate to Westminster Hall. Anticipation was building as London Yeomen began arriving in the hours before on buses, carrying their belongings, and boots, with them.

Justin Welby, the archbishop of Canterbury (right), arrives at Westminster Hall ahead of the royal family and the Queen’s coffin. London Yeomen arrive to the Palace of Westminster

The archbishop of Canterbury walked by around 1pm, saying hello and good afternoon to us photographers, before the service. The clock struck 2.22pm and we eventually heard the band in the distance as the procession neared Westminster. The moment of the coffin and the family arriving felt surreal and was over fairly fast, but the spectacle of the occasion with crowds lining up along Whitehall and beyond, watching the King and his family walking behind his mother and her crown, was quite extraordinary.

King Charles III, Prince Harry and other members of the royal family follow the Queen’s coffin as it enters the gates to the Palace of Westminster alongside the Queen’s Guards

The Queen’s coffin arrives at Buckingham Palace

I had a position at Buckingham Palace on Tuesday evening at the Queen Victoria Memorial – with a great view – ready for the arrival of the Queen’s hearse. At the last second, police outriders on motorbikes decided to park right in front of us, completely blocking the view. I wondered what to do – is it protocol in this situation to run in full suit as the hearse arrives? I decided to move and did my best walking run to move to a better location. it reminded me of when a last-minute goal is scored at a football match just as the stewards arrive to block your view.

I’ve done many minute’s silences at sporting events over the years, but this was incredible as you really could hear a pin drop. I was really grateful for the silent shutter on my cameras – in fact, all week that has been the case, as there have been very many quiet moments of reflection I did not want to disturb.

Left: People gather around a picture of the Queen and the blacked-out windows of Fortnum and Mason’s store on Piccadilly in central London. Right: A picture of the Queen in the window of a cafe on Regent Street

The house belonging to Alex and Vivienne Tate, which they have had painted in a black, white and grey union jack as a mark of respect to the Queen following her death