I knew it wasn’t a normal phone call. A man was asking if I could sing at a wedding he was organising. It was in 2000. Only a few years before, I’d become one of the first female priests ordained in the Church of England. There had been a lot of press coverage – positive and negative. For a time, it seemed I was the public face of the controversy around female priests and I didn’t like it.
What piqued my interest was that the man I was speaking to wouldn’t tell me who was getting married, just that it was very high-profile. I was intrigued, but it was the run-up to Christmas and I knew I’d be busy, so I said no.
The organiser persevered. Apparently this celebrity had heard me singing at St Paul’s Cathedral when she had attended a service that year. She liked what she heard and wanted me as the only singer at her wedding. Before being ordained, I’d trained as a professional soprano.
I insisted on knowing who it was before I committed. The caller wouldn’t say the name on the phone – he arranged to meet me in the City of London. Hours after our call, we met in a sidestreet, with business people hurrying past. He was clearly nervous.
“You know there’s this high-profile wedding coming up?” he said.
He thought I must have guessed.
“No?” I replied. “Who is it?”
“Madonna,” he replied very quietly, as if he was passing on a state secret.
I was gobsmacked. I’m not very into pop culture, so I hadn’t expected to have heard of the celebrity. But everybody knows Madonna. As a teenager in the 1980s, I used to dance to her music. I never imagined that one day I’d be at her wedding.
Madonna wanted to meet beforehand to discuss what to sing. She wanted the aria Caro Mio Ben by the Italian composer Giordani, to acknowledge and celebrate her Italian heritage. It was a lively conversation and we got on well. The pianist Katia Labèque would be playing the piano.
The day before the wedding, I flew to Skibo Castle in Scotland where it would be held. I stayed in a hotel in Dornoch, which was full of journalists desperate to get a photograph of Madonna and Guy Ritchie.
As we drove through the gates of the castle the next day for rehearsals, there were security people with sticks prodding the hedges and bushes looking for journalists. That was surreal. Florists, caterers, DJs and others worked ceaselessly to get everything ready. Guy was there, and friends were gathering – it felt much like a regular wedding.
The pianist and I worked on the song, and Madonna came and gave her views about the music – she was very involved. Madonna and Guy were friendly at what was really a small wedding with only 60 guests including Sting, Trudie Styler, Stella McCartney, Rupert Everett, Gwyneth Paltrow. It was a beautiful, intimate ceremony held by candlelight in the castle.
I was the only singer that day. It was exciting and I felt nervous. I sang from a balcony overlooking the guests, trying not to think about the incredible singers and musicians in front of me. Afterwards, I spoke to Sting. He said I’d done so well and laughed that it was a tough crowd. I was starstruck. Drinks and dancing followed, with dinner. Madonna came over to say a big thank you. She said it was exactly what she had been hoping for.
I got back to the hotel at about 3am. The next morning, I had breakfast, where I was surrounded by tabloid journalists complaining that they hadn’t got a photograph or any details of the wedding. I sat quietly, listening to the speculation about who’d been there. The next few days were full of press reports of timelines of the day, none of which I recognised. It was never reported that I was there. I was pleased – I enjoyed it being a secret. Later, I saw a report that the singer was Luciano Pavarotti.
I’m now the rector of St James’s Piccadilly in London; we’re raising funds to rejuvenate our church and garden, to support our social outreach and environmental work. And I was sad when I heard that Madonna and Guy got divorced in 2008. Not all marriages last for ever, though I’d certainly say yes if Madonna wanted me to sing at her wedding again.
• As told to Sophie Haydock
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