The Last Night of the Proms rests on tradition. The Royal Albert Hall comes alive with colour, the conductor’s podium bedecked in streamers. Promenaders swat balloons and buzz kazoos. Union Jack attire is encouraged. And, following a varied programme of short pieces, the last six are always the same: Fantasia on British Sea Songs, “Rule, Britannia”, Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance (or “Land of Hope and Glory”, as it is known by many), “Jerusalem”, the National Anthem, and Auld Lang Syne. In fact, the Last Night is one of the last remaining mainstream events, outside sport, that is genuinely, organically patriotic.
So how do you reconcile that, in 2023, with the existential need to keep classical music pushing forward, and with a nation that is struggling to find its modern identity? In the run-up to this year’s concert, fierce debate surrounding the staging of the colonial 1740 song “Rule Britannia” encapsulated this question. It remained firmly on the programme – and at London’s Royal Albert Hall on Saturday, the Last Night, featuring the BBC Symphony Orchestra, the BBC Singers and the BBC Symphony Chorus, helmed by the American conductor Marin Alsop, was ultimately a fitting tribute to modern Britain in that it is also navigating a transition.
The reach of the Last Night – millions of viewers tune in to watch it on the BBC – makes it the perfect opportunity to showcase what the classical music world has to offer. The first half featured two coronation pieces: one by Roxanna Panufnik, commissioned for King Charles’ coronation last year and premiered here for orchestra, and another by William Walton, commissioned for Queen Elizabeth II, where the combined power of the choirs is dazzling.
These followed a slightly subdued start with Richard Strauss’s “Don Juan”, though the atmosphere was enlivened by Max Bruch’s “Kol Nidrei” performed by star young cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason, a passionate player with magnetic stage presence. “1922”, a bold, fresh premiere by James B Wilson, made up for the stodgy Wagner – though the crowd went wild for the first appearance of Norwegian soprano Lise Davidsen, who featured prominently in the rest of the programme in dresses that increased in girth with each piece. Her piercingly clear voice captivated the Hall as she sang Masgani, Verdi and (in the second half) Kalman and Villa-Lobos.
The quest for modernisation was clear throughout. The second half opened with the world premiere of Laura Karpman’s theme from the new film The Marvels – for this, audience members were each given an LED wristband that remained lit up for much of the second half. Kanneh-Mason re-appeared under spotlights in the middle of the standing section to play a new orchestral arrangement of “Deep River” by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, an early-20th-century black British composer whose works have recently been reappraised as programmers diversify their repertoire.
Yet it was that final run of pieces that the audience were waiting for. On the hottest day of the year, in the muggy, technicolour Royal Albert Hall, there was an outpouring of joy as the orchestra began the “Sailor’s Hornpipe”. As is tradition, Alsop gave a speech before the final two numbers. This is the 10th anniversary of her becoming the first woman to conduct the Last Night; she focuses on inclusiveness and diversity, giving three cheers for Henry Wood – the founder of the Proms – and “progress”. It feels genuine – but a little at odds with a room of 5,000 people who have just given a rousing rendition of a song about how “Britons never shall be slaves”, itself slightly incongruous with the sea of EU flags that were given out for free by pro-Remain protesters and which by far outnumber the Union Jacks.
The Last Night of the Proms cannot, and did not, reconcile the contradictions of a nation coming to terms with the fact that it no longer “rules the waves”. But it can show us that with a little cajoling and a few modern adjustments – of which even more, scrapping “Rule, Britannia” among them, are necessary – there is still an appetite for music often dismissed as “inaccessible”. And so, desperate for fresh air and with ears ringing, I leave feeling a little patriotic – but not for the reasons you think.