On Tuesday evening, Melvyn Bragg<\/a>, who for generations of viewers is synonymous with the arts on TV, will sign off from his last South Bank Show.<\/p>\n Not that Sky is billing it as that, but when you read our interview with Bragg in this issue, it\u2019s obvious that he considers this is the end of his flagship show.<\/p>\n Whether it\u2019s the last time we see the man himself conducting an interview on-screen is, possibly, another matter.<\/p>\n But if it is to be Bragg\u2019s goodbye to television, what a farewell this is. Over two nights and four programmes we see him gently interrogate a man many consider to be Britain\u2019s greatest living artist: David Hockney<\/a>.<\/p>\n Their exchanges are enlightening, uplifting and, in places, nostalgic, as you would expect from an interviewer and an interviewee both in their 80s who share a lot of history.<\/p>\n The similarities between the two men are striking \u2013 northern, working-class outsiders who broke into the upper reaches of their fields through talent and personality.<\/p>\n Which brings us to another sad landmark: As we went to press, the death of Michael Parkinson<\/a> was announced. He, too, was a northern outsider who broke into television in the 1970s, then the domain of urbane southern smoothies, and single-handedly created the great British chat show.<\/p>\n A fixture in Radio Times<\/strong> \u2013 and the nation\u2019s sitting rooms \u2013 for decades, Parkinson was the definitive interviewer of the talented and the famous. You can read our tribute in this issue.<\/p>\n![\"David](\"https:\/\/images.immediate.co.uk\/production\/volatile\/sites\/3\/2023\/08\/1-SE-35-3-Cover-60052f7.jpg?quality=90&resize=620%2C830\" "\\"David")
\n<\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/picture>\n<\/div><\/a>Also in this week\u2019s Radio Times:<\/strong><\/h2>\n
\n