The
traditional second half
silliness has been going on for
donkey's years. They
always play those four rousing
British classics, and always have for as long as anyone can remember.
One change was made several years ago. It was two weeks after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, and only a week after the death of Sir Georg Solti, one of the greatest conductors of the twentieth century. Andrew Davis, the conductor of the Last Night, gave the traditional speech just before launching into the four classics, but without the usual joviality. And at the end, for that year only, they played God Save the Queen.
Tonight the Last Night is being conducted by an American, Leonard Slatkin, new chief conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra. This time the whole programme is changed. Gone are the three upbeat mockingly patriotic songs (which he had been so looking forward to having fun with). I'm listening to it on the radio. His voice is drawn, he has difficulty getting the words out.
First half
- The Star-Spangled Banner, audience standing
- God Save the Queen, audience standing
- Verdi, overture to La Forza del Destino (The Force of Destiny)
- Verdi, Va pensiero, the chorus of the Hebrew slaves from Nabucco
- Gerald Finzi, The Fall of the Leaf
- Canteloube, Songs of the Auvergne, sung by mezzo-soprano Ann Murray, replacing the American Frederica von Stade, who was unable to fly out for it
- Bach, arranged Respighi, Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor
Second half
- a minute's silence, audience standing
- John Adams, Tromba Lontana (Distant Trumpet)
- Samuel Barber, Adagio for Strings, the muted elegiac work often played in the United States in times of mourning
- Sir Michael Tippett, four spirituals from A Child of Our Time, this pacifist composer's tribute to the Kristallnacht and the victims of oppression and injustice everywhere
- Beethoven, final movement from the Choral Symphony, whose Ode to Joy is now widely received as an anthem to freedom
- Parry, orchestrated by Elgar, Jerusalem, that strange and sombre visionary hymn, of building a new holy city in a land ravaged by the smoke and death of infernal machines.
- The audience just closed by singing Auld Lang Syne.