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Published: Friday, 26 July 2024 at 11:48 AM


The Ancient Greeks loved the arts, and they loved sport. What’s more, they liked putting the two together – the Pythian, Nemean, Isthmian and Panathenaic games all featured contests for poetry and music alongside the likes of wrestling, running and chariot racing. Not so the original Olympic Games.

For its first four centuries from 776 BC, this quadrennial event was strictly reserved for young men to strip naked, oil up and run faster, throw further, punch harder and ride better than each other. But then, in 396 BC, even the Olympics succumbed to the allure of the arts, as a contest for heralds and trumpeters was introduced.

Fast forward another 23 centuries, and Baron Pierre de Coubertin, founder of the modern Olympic Games, dreamed of a similar marriage of sport and arts. A true renaissance man who was equally at home in the opera house as on a rugby field, de Coubertin had already overseen the first two outings of his new Olympics  – in Athens (1896) and Paris (1900).

Olga Fikotová spins to gold in Melbourne Olympics, 1956 (see number 6 below). Pic: Getty Images – Getty Images

His next move was to suggest that the games should embrace cultural activities too. He set out his ideas in an article in Le Figaro in 1904 and then at a conference in Paris two years later. De Coubertin’s plans for an accompanying pan-artistic celebration of sport effectively paved the way for the increasingly spectacular opening and closing ceremonies that would be a feature of Games to come. However, he wanted more – namely to integrate the arts into the competition itself. From a musical point of view his wish has, to some extent, been fulfilled over the years, though not always in ways that he might have expected…

Stay with us as we run through the 11 most memorable musical Olympics.

Greatest Olympic musical moments

11. 1908: Win when you’re singing

The run-up to the 1908 Olympics was a chaotic affair. That year’s Games should have been in Rome but, following a catastrophic eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 1906, the Italian government decided to direct its resources elsewhere. And so, as London stepped in with just two years to prepare, the introduction and organisation of five new competitive arts events – architecture, painting, sculpture, literature and music composition – was always going to be a battle against the clock.

Charles Villiers Stanford was put in charge of formatting the music composition event but soon realised, as did his colleagues in charge of the other four disciplines, that he had an impossible job on his hands. Instead, suggested the composer, why not have a choral competition?

This might be a more practical option, not least as singing had been strongly advocated at the 1906 Paris conference as an important aid to physical health. His idea was, alas, rejected and London 1908 went ahead arts competition-free, but by the time of the Stockholm Games in 1912, all five events were ready to take their place in the schedule.

10. 1932: A major blow for Suk

Though launched with the best intentions, the musical composition event at the Olympics was hardly a roaring success. Faced with a patchy level of entries, the judges rarely elected to award all three medals, and in 1924 left the podium totally empty. Of those who did win medals over the years, only one was a well-known name, when Josef Suk (one of our ten best Czech composers) took silver at Los Angeles in 1932 (no gold or bronze was awarded that year).

And even then, the Czech composer’s Towards a New Life was not written specially for the occasion, but was simply a rehash of a patriotic march composed for the Czech army back in 1919. In 1936, the music composition event was split into three categories – orchestral, instrumental and vocal/choral – with the whole lot being jettisoned just one Olympics later, in 1948.

9. 1924: Fired up by G&S

For the 1924 Olympics in Paris, the playing of national anthems as winners collected their medals was introduced. The stipulation that no anthem could be longer than 80 seconds, however, meant that for a number of countries some nifty editing had to be done first. The nine Brits to enjoy a gold medal-earned ‘God save the King’ included 100m sprinter Harold Abrahams, though the evidence suggests he would have preferred a little Gilbert and Sullivan as he stood on the podium.

You see, when (57 years later) Abrahams’s exploits were celebrated in the film Chariots of Fire, his portrayed infatuation with G&S was by no means a case of artistic licence – in real life, he’d go on to marry the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company singer Sybil Evers, and in 1959 chose The Yeomen of the Guard Overture as his favourite track on BBC Radio’s Desert Island Discs.

Sprinter Harold Abrahams, a fan of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Yeomen of the Guard (above left), chats to the Prince of Wales after his 100m heat in the Paris Olympics, 1924
Harold Abrahams (in white coat) chats to the Prince of Wales, later Edward VIII after his 200-metre first-round heat at the Olympic Games, Paris, 9 July 1924. (Photo by Central Press/Hulton Archive/Getty Images) – Central Press/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

8. 2014: From bow to snow

Skier Vanessa Vanakorn could only ever dream of grabbing a medal in the giant slalom at the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia. As it was, she came 67th, last out of all those who successfully made it down the course twice and some 50 seconds behind the winner. Nonetheless, even that was no little achievement for Vanakorn, whom most people knew better as the British-Singaporean violinist Vanessa-Mae

Having racked up a fortune from a young age with recordings ranging from Beethoven to Donna Summer, Mae revealed in her 30s that her next big ambition was to represent Thailand, her father’s birth country, on the snowy slopes. And, with Olympic rules allowing every country to enter at least one competitor into the giant slalom, Thailand’s lack of skiers of note afforded her a clear path to doing so. ‘With my limited experience at my age I’m happy I made it down,’ she reflected afterwards. ‘It was kind of rock and roll because I nearly crashed out three times.’  

7. 1936: Strauss’s podium odium

‘I am whiling away the boredom of the advent season by composing an Olympic Hymn for the plebs – I of all people, who hate and despise sports.’ These were the words of Richard Strauss, the least likely of all composers to have had a connection with the Olympics. Perhaps even more surprising was that he was there in person to conduct the work at the Olympics opening ceremony in Berlin on 1 August 1936. Astonishing, really, as only the year before he had been unceremoniously sacked as president of the Reich Chamber of Musicians for criticising the Nazi regime.

One suspects he was deemed simply too prestigious a part of Hitler’s notorious Olympic showcase to be omitted. He certainly gave himself plenty to play with, scoring his Olympic Hymn for huge choral and orchestral forces including ‘four trumpets, multiplied by four if possible…’.

By the way, we were interested but not totally surprised to see Strauss’s name cropping up a lot when we asked orchestral musicians to name their favourite pieces to perform.

More greatest Olympic musical moments

6. 1956: A revolutionary approach

A different Strauss – Johann II – was partly to thank for bringing a little Olympic glory to Czechoslovakia in Melbourne in 1956. When, only two years earlier, Olga Fikotová took up the discus at university in Prague, veteran coach Otakar Jandera not only saw the potential of the 5’11” athlete but also worked out a canny way of helping her develop the sense of rhythm needed to spin effectively in the circle before throwing.

‘He started off by playing the Blue Danube over and over again on the stadium loudspeakers and had me making turns,’ remembered Fikotová later. Masterful, though surely not even Jandera could have possibly foreseen his rookie athlete winning the gold medal with a new Olympic record within such a short space of time.