I can’t hope to encapsulate the whole of the Jubilympics in one post and I don’t intend to. I don’t even intend to deconstructe the whole of the Opening Ceremony. Just one tiny piece that made me bawl and still has the capacity to stir my soul if I think about it too closely.
So we had the wonderfully eclectic and beautifully politically pointed history of the UK. Nimrod, Jerusalem, Tubular Bells, Bean, Brunel, Bond. Then there was the march of the athletes culminating in Heroes by David Bowie. Much speculation had happened over who would light the cauldron with the Olympic Flame. In the end David Beckham piloted it along the Thames & handed it off to Sir Steve Redgrave. Of course! The most successful Olympian in UK history. But wait! There was a twist. A beautiful glorious twist. The group of seven, chosen by British Olympic champions, each lit a single tiny flame on the ground, igniting 205 petals, one for each competing nation or territory.
The older generation of Olympians hugged their flame bearer and then waved the future generation of Olympians off with the flame. Not only did it make logical sense it made emotional sense too. The music fit the moment, Caliban’s Dream may not look like much lyrically on paper but it makes sense. A perfectly pitched moment the world shared in.