Accompanist extraordinaire
Member, SCUNA Small Group, 1971
"I waited patiently for the Lord: and he inclined unto me, and heard my calling. He brought me also out of the horrible pit, out of the mire and clay: and set my feet upon the rock and ordered my going. And he hath put a new song in my mouth: even a thanksgiving unto our God."
- Psalm 40 1-3, BCP
In this service we are all mourners; many would claim the privilege of being in the front rank. That honour must go to Laurie's brother Ken, sister-in-law Joan, their son and daughter Michael and Marya and grandson, Brian. The text was suggested to me soon after Laurie died, when we talked of his love for the psalms. Ken remembered, as boys under Brereton Dudley (from whom Laurie learned the organ), that they sang together the aria from Mendelssohn's Hymn of Praise which began with those words. Our sympathy is expressed to Ken and Joan and the family. Our warm thanks are given to neighbours, Noel and Margaret Francis, to volunteer carers, especially Stephanie Hayes, and to professional and palliative care nurses. Andrew and Jan Constance, Kathleen Nielsen and Bruce Craig, friends at St Mark's, at All Saints' and a wide circle who have made their love and concern known, all deserve our gratitude. I must as well thank the good folk who have prepared afternoon tea, Pam Wright for the order of service, and Peter Young and choristers for the music of the service.
There are folk here representing Laurie's ministry of fifty years, including choristers from Laurie's time at St Saviour's Cathedral, Goulburn, now forty years on.
Laurence Maxwell Murchison was born in Sydney on 15 January 1919. Laurie and Ken's father died in 1931, and Mrs Murchison, fondly remembered by many of us, cared for the boys despite the difficulty of those depression years, often moving to secure cheaper accommodation. Laurie went to Northbridge Public School, where he was dux, before going to North Sydney Boys' High and Sydney University. He graduated in 1940 with first class honours in English, Latin and Greek and the University Medal in Classics. He spent a short time in the militia during the war but soon left to do diplomatic training under Dr H.V. Evatt. This, too, proved not to be congenial, and he applied to Bishop Burgmann as a postulant for orders. He was ordained in 1943, completing his Th.L. by private study in 1945.
He was assistant at Young 1943-46; he spent a year as assistant here at St John's, Canberra. He spent some time in the Diocese of Melbourne in the parishes of Christ Church, South Yarra and All Saints', Geelong, and in England in 1951 completed his diplomas, ARCM and ARCO. He was precentor and organist of St Saviour's Cathedral 1951-58, rector of Bombala 1958, on leave at St Augustine's, Canterbury in 1959, rector of St Paul's, Manuka, and Canon of the Cathedral from 1960. He left St Paul's in 1966 and became tutor at St Mark's until his retirement in 1986. He has been a part-time lecturer until quite recently.
He was organist at All Saints', Ainslie, from 1966 and has been a valued adviser on church music to a number of us, and of course to St Mark's students. It is appropriate that today is St Cecilia's Day.
He was a strange, eccentric and quite unique person. I often thought of him as a visitor from another age. A favourite english composer was Thomas Tompkins of Gloucester and Worcester in the 16th and 17th centuries. Purcell's music was meat and drink to him. One would come across him at home reading Thucydides in the original or a Romanian New Testament. He once told me without vanity that there were some aspects of Byzantine history of which he knew more than anyone else on earth! He was hardly a Renaissance man, however, in that there were some fields of learning and human experience that did not interest him at all, nor perhaps did he know they existed.* We started a Melbourne B.D. together in 1967. We were running mates in Hebrew. He went on to become a Hebrew scholar while my Hebrew lapsed into dusty desuetude. He never did complete the degree. He had no M.A., no doctorate, no books written, so far as I know. One is led to wonder what he could have made of his life with a bit more worldliness, a bit more raw ambition and animal cunning. Some people, it seems, never learn.
*Phillip Adams mused the other night on radio that parliamentarian Barry Jones had probably heard of the Beatles. We can be pretty sure that Laurie had not.
He was, as Shakespeare had it in Hamlet, "caviar to the general". Such a rare spirit with such rare gifts that the generality of people would not recognise his worth. Those of us who did, or who came to value him in time did so, not only for his knowledge and wisdom but also for his childlike character, his almost fierce loyalty and his deep love of his friends.
Of his friends one is bound to include his succession of loyal and loving dogs. My first canine introduction was to Skipper and Turk in 1966 who from time to time slept in the pulpit during services. There was no question of the dog leaving. The preacher just had to straddle the sleeping hound. My most memorable experience, however, was when Laurie bought a caravan to come on holidays with us at Broulee. I was foolish enough to say that I had towed a caravan - once. Laurie had a small red Volkswagen. The family had already gone, Laurie and I were to follow. Skipper and Turk were in the back, our dog was in the front, Laurie alongside me. Going down the Clyde was a waking nightmare. The light, unstable car, the relatively heavy van, my unfamiliarity with the car, with towing and with three growling dogs was almost unbearable. Laurie smoked calmly on his pipe, all the way. When we arrived at Batemans Bay he suggested we have a cup of coffee. This was very thoughtful of him. Coffee!? No brandy ever made was strong enough for the need at that time.
The developments at St Mark's both pleased and frustrated him. He loved the students, especially those who showed some aptitude for Greek. He loved and admired "battlers". (He once called me "a battler".) But he could never understand why he and Robert Withycombe couldn't run the whole show on their own, with a little bit of help from their friends. His last years have been sad for everyone and frustrating into the bargain, and recent weeks very difficult. It was great to see Ken, his brother here, to care for him, but our concern for Ken was added to our concern for Laurie. But God is good. His time is best and Laurie's death last Thursday evening befitted a man of God passing to his reward.
I have sometimes pondered, thinking of Laurie, especially in recent days, whether, in the parlance of the Epistle to the Hebrews, we might have been "entertaining an angel unawares".
Bishop Neville Chynoweth delivered this eulogy at the funeral service for the Revd Canon L.M. Murchison at St John's, Canberra, on 22 November 1993.
The article and the photo above originally appeared in the Anglican Historical Society Journal. They are reproduced here with the kind permission of the present editor and of Bishop Neville Chynoweth.
The photographer is unknown. If you have information about the photo, please me. - Val T
Laurie sang with the University Consort in the 70s, but also accompanied SCUNA in rehearsal from time to time. He played all the notes in orchestral reductions at sight - this was a source of astonishment to Sue Baldwin and to me. He also created some memorable "psalm settings": the rules of University House1, for the Consort, and for SCUNA, a letter to the Canberra Times from the early days of Weston Creek:
I live at Duffy [mournful echo: Duffy]
Where there is no shopping centre or school
The nearest being at Rivett [mournful echo: Rivett]
It is assumed that everyone here has a car.
Without such transport my wife has to walk to the shops,
35 minutes each way,
Or she could get a bus,
Which goes via Woden Interchange then back to Rivett,
45 minutes each way.
These words and Laurie's setting of them [now, thanks to Annabel Wheeler, the full score and transcribed text are available] have been very much in my mind after the fires in January this year.
Laurie was a close friend of Phil Thomas's, and it was at Phil's place that SCUNAites came to know Laurie a little better. He would arrive in his Volkswagen, with his two beloved dogs, and sit quietly smoking his pipe and occasionally contributing a whimsical comment.
One of my fondest memories of Laurie: after attending a performance of Bach's Christmas Oratorio, he cut across my nit-picking criticisms with the words, "Ah, but Bach..." I'll always remember his gift of hearing the song, not the singer.
- Val T
1I searched the rules of University House but found no mention of beer, wine, and perry, which definitely appeared in Laurie's chant. Please me if you have a score and would be prepared to give me a scan of it.
Annabel Wheeler lent me scores of the amazing Duffy lament and a toast (sung, I think, by the SCUNA Small Group) to the Master of University House. These appear on a separate page.