| People, groups and events |
Norman CrowhurstNorman, who was our organist for many years, died on 4 July 2011. His Funeral Mass was held on Thursday 21 July. Below is a transcription of the address given by Father John Everest. 
Norman was born in Framfield West Sussex in 1921, the son of a District Nurse and a Wheelwright and builder. His only formal education was at the local Village School before he and his sister Christabel and brother Roy were apprenticed, Norman as a clock and watchmaker. But it was clear to his mother that Norman was something of a child prodigy, able to play any hymn that you named at the age of five, and it was this growing musicality within him that led him to be largely self-educated by those who recognised his talent and encouraged him both musically and intellectually as his patrons. This enabled him to begin studying at both the Royal College of Music and the Royal College of Organists before the War, and again when he returned from the War, winning the much-valued Turpin Prize for organ-playing. Even as an Air-gunner in the RAF he pursued his musical interests whilst serving in Italy particularly, where (often in a slightly inebriated condition) he and his friends would enter Italian Churches and sample the music or use the organ. On one splendid occasion they apparently charged up to the Altar in the middle of a Service and blew out the candles! What he kept under wraps for most of his life was that he was also an accomplished jazz pianist. Back after the War Norman decided that, however attractive, professional life as a Recitalist or Cathedral Organist was not for him, as he was too nervous by nature, and he qualified as a teacher at Eastbourne College. Whilst teaching in Tunbridge Wells, and playing the organ at Christchurch there he met a young 18 year old called Janet, and at the age of 28 married her in 1953. Janet always used to say that she was quite happy as a Secretary at the BBC before Norman whisked her away. But from then on Janet’s priority was to encourage and enable Norman’s prodigious musical talent, and to so order his life and home that this was possible, From Tunbridge Wells they moved to Haywards Heath where Norman taught at Ardingly School and was organist at St Michael’s Brighton, before Wymondham in Norfolk where he was Organist at that Magnificent Abbey for three years. He taught at the Secondary Modern School there where he started a brass band, introduced music as an examination subject and recruited lots of children for the Abbey Choir. But he found the Secondary Modern system vexing, and relatively soon applied for the Director Music post at the Royal Grammar School here. Early on in all of this Jeremy and Nikki were born. They grew up in a family unit where music was absolutely central and sacrosanct, and where the house was often full of very strange people picked up and looked after by their parents. When they went out for the day or on holiday they would find themselves visiting churches of all shapes and sizes to discover what the organ was like, and would listen to their Father either dismissing the instrument or playing it. They would wake up in the morning and go to bed at night hearing Norman practising the piano. They would wait for a pause in his playing before daring to open the door to announce that breakfast was ready. At times Nikki wished that she was a bit more like her friends – in fact normal! And then there were the clocks and the regular re-decorations to contend with as well! Norman’s teaching methods were not modern. If a child was not musical he went to the back of the class and could be ignored. Ears were tweeked and blackboard rubbers thrown. And even Choir members here have experienced some of that fierceness that comes from being a perfectionist. And yet what music was made, and how many students have cause to be grateful for such talent being shared with them in a School in which, I am told, music was by no means a priority. Some indeed have gone on to great things with names internationally respected. Norman supervised the building of the Organ in the Perrins Hall at the Royal Grammar School, and when I appointed him here he set about rebuilding this organ and moving it to the centre of the Gallery where you see it now. He produced an instrument of tremendous adaptability and range upon which he continued to teach his pupils, and which he loved playing. He did this with the Organ–builder Trevor Tipple, who it is wonderful to find playing that very Organ here today. He came to this Church having played at the Methodist Church in Pump Street and at St George’s Catholic Church across the Road. Whilst being a faithful Christian, for Norman the music was the all-important thing, wherever it was to be played. He and Janet were particularly happy here, loving the people, the liturgy and the organ. And then in 1991 disaster struck, as suddenly and almost instantly in his presence at home his wife Janet died. It was such a terrible shock to all of us that the most I could do was to walk in to his home and hug him. Janet had ordered everything in his life and drove him everywhere, and now he had to organise himself. But surrounded by family and friends he managed - with the aid of the occasional liquid refreshment and the ministrations of Marks and Spencer! Bun Merry over the last few years has kept a weather eye on him, and Jeremy and Nikki and their family have never allowed his care to be forgotten. And he enjoyed his family, playing up to the last with his great grandson Jack who loved his automatic chair going up and down to order. There will be a great hole in the lives of Jeremy, Deborah, Amy, Lizzie, Sam, Emily, Lucy and Jack, and Nikki and John, George, Lucy and Luke. But the music will go on. For me music always opens up new horizons beyond words. It reflects joy and sorrow, love and hate, in fact all of the human emotions. For me it is about living with the hope of beauty, even if around me sometimes I feel so much is ugly. The Reading we had from the Revelation of St John similarly looks beyond the present reality to a world in which all that is wrong is put right, and sorrow and pain are no more. There is a vision to be lived by. And the Gospel of St John similarly speaks of an openness to the future beyond this life in which the true realities will be revealed, and the love of God will be fully experienced. In this Eucharist today we pray for Norman, we don’t just remember him, and we pray that the beauty opened up to him through the gift of music may be his experience, as he makes his final journey into the mysterious and musical presence of God. May he Rest in Peace and rise in Glory. |