Remembering Dr. Giles Bryant
Stephen Beatty honours the life and legacy of a man who was truly a giant among us.
“With his big white beard Giles had the countenance of Santa Claus and I would suggest the same impact on all those he interacted with.”
By Stephen Beatty, ‘86 Headmaster
Our former Director of Choral Music, Choirmaster Emeritus and Warden of the College Dr. Giles Bryant passed away peacefully in November at the age of 91. Once one has had the pleasure of meeting Giles or, even better, spending time with him and becoming his friend, it is clear that one will never meet the likes of him again. Truly incomparable. A legend. A giant.
Giles succeeded the College’s Prime Founder, John Bradley, as the second Director of Choral Music and Choirmaster at the College. He was already a fixture in the world of Anglican music in Canada. While Giles had retired before I arrived at the College, he was generous in the time and friendship he afforded me and I had the pleasure of accompanying Giles on three Choir Tours, where I witnessed first-hand the instant connection he had with students. Giles was the “banker” on tour, doling out the cash the boys’ parents had sent along. The morning routine of the boys lining up at the “bank,” asking to withdraw some funds while Giles feigned painful reluctance to part with the cash, is the stuff of legend for a generation of boys who traveled with him. The kids simply adored Giles. His secret was, of course, that he adored them. He never spoke down to or patronized a student in his care. He just loved spending time with them.
Or former colleague Douglas Jamieson was able to be with his mentor and friend in his last hours before he slipped away. To be able to spend time with Douglas and Giles together and observe their relationship was both remarkably entertaining (their stories are hilarious) and a deep expression of human connection. Douglas and Giles cared for each other and took care of each other.
I asked Douglas to share a reflection on the life of his friend, and his words are here:
There are moments in life that are particularly significant. Moments that make us stop, and pause, and reflect. Such a moment has arrived at our college with the passing of Canon Dr. Giles Bryant, Choirmaster Emeritus, Honorary Old Boy, and Warden.
Giles’ career was long and varied. He was a fine singer, respected academic, inventive pedagogue, composer and arranger, organist, conductor, and raconteur par excellence, all framed within a magical personality that entered any room ‘like a tremendous swell.’ And yet, despite his celebrity status in the musical world, Giles was a caring and affectionate mentor, cheerleader, and support to countless people lucky enough to have entered into his orbit.
A serious scholar, he was generous with his time but not shy in expressing his views or sharing his prodigious store of knowledge. And while he enjoyed the honours and accolades of a long and distinguished career, he was unfailingly self-deprecating. The subject of his legendary quips was often Giles himself.
As the many tributes and recollections come in, it is evident that Giles was widely regarded as a musical titan, particularly in choral music circles. The words ‘giant,’ ‘unique,’ irreplaceable,’ and ‘legendary’ have been used liberally. In a text to a colleague, I used the word ‘incomparable.’ None of them come close. He was Giles Bryant and he was one of us. I don’t think there is a word that captures what that means.
It was Giles’ wish that a memorial service, “something grand, but tasteful,” be held at the college. This will happen in the spring. We will honour this wonderful man and celebrate his remarkable life as only Georgians can. “Music, when soft voices die, vibrates in the memory.”
There is, of course, nothing tragic in the peaceful end of life of someone in their 90’s, but I think we all just believed we’d have Giles forever. The common sentiment when I reached out to alumni with the news was to raise a pint (cask-conditioned ale would be his preference) for this wonderful man, who lived a good life and loved our College, our traditions, and, most of all, the legion of kids who came into his sphere.
