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Sofi Jeannin conducts the Seattle Symphony, Chorale and a cast of guest soloists in the much-anticipated return of Handel's mighty Messiah (December 16, 17 & 18).
 

The year 1741 did not start out well for George Frideric Handel (1685–1759), having suffered a troubling decline in his financial and physical health. No stranger to life’s vicissitudes, he once again would summon the inner resources to resuscitate his fortunes and constitution. Handel’s triumphant “rebirth” came through the providential grace of Messiah (1741). By mid-summer the resilient composer was hard at work on his new oratorio. The catalyst was his frequent collaborator Charles Jennens (1700-1773), who did a yeoman job in fashioning Biblical material into a cohesive libretto. Pleased with the text, Handel made virtually no changes to Jennens’ handiwork. Handel secreted himself in his apartment for three weeks, refusing visitors and almost all food brought to him by his worried valet. When he finally emerged disheveled and several pounds lighter, the weight he had shed had been reconstituted as a completed manuscript of what would become the most beloved oratorio in the English-speaking world.

The composer wrote Messiah as if in a profound raptus and nearly manic zeal, though it must be pointed out that he frequently wrote in manic streaks of boundless focused energy. Handel was a fast worker indeed, even if we take into consideration that in Messiah (as elsewhere), he cribbed from previous works and jottings whenever he could, always fine-tuning and subtly altering material to increase dramatic and musical effect.

Handel took the finished score to Dublin in response to an invitation from the Duke of Devonshire to lead a series of charity concerts. The composer knew that a visit to the Irish capital — where he was admired — bestowed a golden opportunity to get on his feet again. He even brought his own musicians with him to help ensure success. In April 1742, Dubliners were regaled with the first public performances of Messiah and they showed their approval with ardent applause. Ever generous, Handel donated his share of the proceeds to several charitable institutions, including one that helped “poor distressed prisoners for debt.”

Though the subject of Messiah is obviously central to the Western Christian tradition, he wrote the oratorio for public entertainment, not for the liturgy. It was conceived musically as an alternative to opera, not to church service. Freed from the demands for scenery and costumes, an oratorio was much cheaper to put on. Relying more heavily on choral participation than did opera, it appropriated many of the structural conventions of the musical/dramatic tradition. In its three-part layout, Messiah can be “parsed” as a three-act opera without visuals.

Messiah embraces a vast range of emotions generated in the unfolding story of mankind’s yearning, hope, anguish and redemption. Part I functions as a prologue, establishing Old Testament prophecies of the coming of the Messiah in both his gentle/loving and terrible/cleansing aspects, with the expressed promise of a holy kingdom embracing all of humanity. The two-part French Overture gives us a preview of the work’s eventual journey from darkness to light. A slow and solemn Grave yields to a vigorous and assured three-voiced fugal Allegro. Among the many beauties of the opening panel of this great musical triptych is the aria, “Every valley shall be exalted,” where the composer expands upon the word “exalted” to heighten its textual implications.

Another unalloyed gem in Part I is the fugal chorus, “And He shall purify,” one of four choruses, incidentally, drawn from earlier Handelian works. The magnificent chorus, “For unto us a child is born,” transports the listener with its unflagging rhythmic energy and exuberant burst of glory on the words, “Wonderful, Counselor....” The brief and lovely “Pastoral Symphony” that follows is, aside from the Overture, the only purely orchestral number. Its gently rocking 12/8 meter (a connective rhythmic “motto” recurring throughout the entire score) and enchanting innocence have assured its independent life as a concert encore.

The second part of Messiah focuses on Christ’s suffering and death. Here, the composer drew upon his considerable experience in opera to capture the intensely human and personal suffering of Christ rejected. This is Handel at his most moving and sorrowful, as in the chorus, “Behold the Lamb of God,” which begins Part II. A tragic mood is sustained, even deepened in the following aria for alto, “He was despised.” After the death of Christ, the events surrounding the Resurrection are presented with rapid and irresistible momentum, musically confirming that humankind’s history had been accelerating to this momentous event. Having touched us deeply with music of sublime pathos, Handel gives vent to outrage in the bass aria, “Why do the nations so furiously rage together?” This vehement and defiant question is a sterling example of the virtuosic “rage” arias that punctuate Baroque opera.

Having explored and expressed the gamut of human agony, Handel ends Part II with the much-loved “Hallelujah!” chorus, as exhilarating and uplifting a sound as has been uttered by the human voice. Resplendent in gleaming D major — a key used by composers before and since Handel to convey triumph and glory — the “Hallelujah!” chorus brings Part II to a brilliant and optimistic close.

For many listeners, Part II seems an appropriate ending to Messiah. But Handel composed it for performance on Easter, not Christmas, which explains why Part III deals with the Resurrection and not the birth and life of Jesus.

It speaks to Handel’s dramatic genius that he could provide a third part that would not suffer the charge of anticlimax after the exultant joy of the “Hallelujah!” chorus. He wisely eschewed the drums-and-trumpets glory of “Hallelujah!,” beginning Part III with a serenely beautiful soprano aria, “I know that my redeemer liveth.” Here Handel establishes the healing theme of redemption that runs throughout the remainder of the work. Ever a man of the theater, however, he takes time for dramatic contrast and virtuosity in the brilliant “And the trumpet shall sound,” a veritable mini-concerto for solo trumpet and bass soloist cast as a da capo aria. The work concludes with the rapt and beatific “Amen” chorus.

Steven Lowe © 2022