SF Symphony returns to Middle-earth with the second chapter of its epic Lord of the Rings series
The San Francisco Symphony’s presentation of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers — Howard Shore’s Academy Award–winning score performed live to the film — sold out well ahead of its opening night on Thursday, May 8. It’s no surprise: in a time of societal fracture and uncertainty, what keeps us going is the hope voiced by one of the story’s enduring characters: “There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.”
At its core, J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings is a story about the corrupting force of power and the quiet heroism that resists it. Frodo Baggins, a humble hobbit from the Shire, inherits the One Ring, an artifact of immense evil that must be destroyed. Joined by a fellowship of men, elves, dwarves, and wizards, Frodo sets out to carry the Ring to Mount Doom in Mordor—the only place it can be unmade. Along the way, the Fellowship is tested, broken, and scattered, yet their resolve endures. The fate of the world hinges on the choices they make.
Adapted for the screen by the director Peter Jackson, The Two Towers is the middle of Tolkien’s tale. As all middle movements, it risks being muddled or too long— yet no such thing happens. On the contrary, the grandeur of the narrative expands, and so does its emotional weight. Frodo and his friend Sam navigate the desolate paths to Mordor, while the rest of the Fellowship battles to protect Rohan, one of the key kingdoms in Tolkien’s Middle-earth. This installment is not about victories (though there are some) but about holding the line—physically, morally, and spiritually.
Howard Shore’s score is central to the film’s emotional weight, supporting every narrative turn with striking precision. If The Fellowship gave us light and legacy, this second act leans darker— minor keys deepen the tension, and familiar themes return in altered, shadowed form. Scored for a full symphony orchestra, Shore layers strings and winds with piercing brass and pounding percussion. The tuba, the lowest voice in the brass section, adds a deep, growling foundation to the soundscape, conjuring the dread of Mordor, while war drums drive the pulse of battle.
At the other end of the emotional spectrum, the aching theme for Rohan—led by the haunting Hardanger fiddle, a Norwegian instrument with extra strings and an echoing, slightly mournful tone—evokes a proud people facing collapse. The harp, used in quiet, reflective scenes, adds a calm, lyrical counterpoint to the urgency of battle. English horn and oboe contribute soft, elegiac solos that often accompany Frodo and Sam during their most uncertain moments. Shore also weaves in Celtic instruments like the uilleann pipes and whistle to recall the hobbits’ rural way of life— offering warmth and emotional grounding amid the rising dark. This isn’t just a film score; it’s a musical map of Middle-earth’s moral terrain and the perilous road taken to protect it.
Onstage, Ludwig Wicki— visiting from Lucerne, Switzerland—conducted the symphony with both control and lyricism, translating Shore’s complexity into a live experience of seamless coordination and emotional clarity. Each section of the orchestra was attuned to the others, and each cue landed in perfect sync with the film—a feat made more impressive by the fact that most musicians couldn’t see the screen. The standing ovation Maestro Wicki received during the final bows was fully deserved.
The voices behind the screen brought another dimension altogether. The San Francisco Symphony Chorus (Guest Director: David Xiques) and the Pacific Boychoir Academy (Director: Zachary Salsburg-Frank) sang in Tolkien’s invented languages— Sindarin, Quenya—and English. These weren’t background vocals. From the boys’ crystalline sopranos to the chorus’s full-bodied presence in the battle sequences, the vocal work was nothing short of sublime. Soprano Kaitlyn Lusk, seated just left of the conductor, delivered her solos with emotional poise and clarity.
Above the stage, the wide screen on which the film was projected commanded the audience’s attention, offering longtime fans of the original trilogy (which premiered globally in December 2002) a rare chance to relive The Two Towers—and revisit a version of themselves from two decades ago. The boundary between viewer and story dissolved, timelines collided, and the sense of immersion was complete. You weren’t simply watching Middle-earth; you were stepping into it—riding alongside Aragorn or watching Frodo fight the spell of the Ring. That might explain why no one left the hall— not before intermission, and not during Lusk’s spellbinding solo in the closing credits.
The intermission had its own charms. Many came dressed for the occasion—Gandalf robes, hobbit ears, elven princesses in silver circlets. “Lembas bread,” the iconic Elvish treat that sustained Frodo and Sam on their perilous path to Mordor, may have been a simple pretzel wrapped in green parchment, but it was eagerly sold and devoured in the Davies Symphony Hall café that night. A Sting cocktail, inspired Frodo’s sword, shimmered with edible gold. Guests snapped photos inside a hobbit-house backdrop, browsed billboards celebrating the Symphony’s young musicians, or gazed through festively lit windows at the San Francisco night—surrounded by fellow fans and art lovers. It felt less like a break than a gathering of the Fellowship.
Three and a half hours passed in what felt like a moment— thanks to the dedication of the musicians, the film’s cast and creators, and the timeless power of the story itself. Just as vital was the audience: fully present, leaning into each note and scene, completing the circle between art and its witness. At a time when arts funding is being slashed, this performance stood as a luminous reminder of what the arts still do best: bring people together and inspire them to stand up for what they cherish.
If you missed The Two Towers, consider this your invitation to return to Middle-earth next year. The Return of the King, the final chapter in the saga, will take place at Davies Symphony Hall from April 30 to May 2, 2026. And yes—get your tickets early.
SF Symphony The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King April 20-May 2, 2026. Tickets go on sale July 19, 2025. Visit https:// www.sfsymphony.org/Buy-Tickets/2025-26/LOTR-RETURNOF-THE-KING?ref=encoreplusapp
