Hallelujah!

Happy Holidays! I hope everyone who celebrates had a wonderful Christmas. There are so many traditions associated with this time of year, and I’d love to hear some of yours.

One tradition is the performance of G.F. Handel’s fabulous oratorio, Messiah. We had the pleasure of hearing a brilliant rendition last week here in Toronto. I’ve played the piece many times in my former life as a classical musician, but I’ve rarely been in the audience. It was a treat. An added bonus is that my son sings in the choir, so I could get some parental gloating in as well.

There are some lovely stories associated with Messiah, and I thought I’d do a bit of digging into the history of this piece.

George Frideric Handel was born in Halle, Germany, in 1685, but settled in London in 1712, where he resided for the rest of his life. He first rose to fame as a composer of traditional Italian operas, a hugely popular artform in the early 18^th century, but he was equally renowned early on for his court music, concerti grossi, organ music, and anthems as well. You might have heard the stirring performance of ‘Zadok the Priest’ at King Charles’ coronation last May. Handel pulled out all the stops for that one!

Italian opera, as I said, was big business. In the first decades of the 1700s, Handel founded three commercial opera companies to keep the English nobility happy. These pieces demanded highly trained, and often imported, singers, who came with temperaments as thrilling as their voices, and on one occasion a fight broke out on stage between two battling sopranos.  Eventually the demands of the opera world became excessive, and musical tastes began to change as well.

By the 1730s, Handel began to change his musical direction, shifting his focus from elaborate and very expensive Italian opera to religious oratorio and English choral music. These new pieces also appealed more to the middle classes, whose pockets were often deeper than those of their social superiors. One result of this was Messiah.

This fabulous oratorio (like an opera, with chorus and solo numbers, but without the staging and action) was composed over a very short time, three or four weeks, in August and September of 1741. Some say it was divine inspiration. Others say it was the brilliant selection of biblical verses by librettist Charles Jennens in July. No matter. The result was this masterpiece. Hallelujah!

Messiah had its first performance not in London, but in Dublin, on April 13, 1742, to a huge crowd of over 700. Ladies were advised not to wear hoops in their skirts to make room for the masses, although the draw might have been as much to see the scandalous contralto, Susannah Cibber, as to see the superstar composer. Handel chose Dublin over London for the premiere because he had been disappointed with recent flops in the English city. Dublin, at the time, was a fast-growing and prosperous city, with a wealthy population and a determination to show its mettle in the realm of art and music.

The performance was a hit, and this success was replicated when Messiah was first performed in London the following year.

Here’s a bit more Messiah trivia for you.

* The first performance in Dublin was a charity benefit, and it raised enough money to release 142 men from debtor’s prison.

* At the first performance in London on March 23, 1743, the king was in the audience. At the first ringing notes of the Hallelujah chorus, he sprang to his feet. And if the king stands, everyone stands, so the whole audience rose. This tradition of standing during this rousing chorus still, well, stands!

* Messiah was intended for the Easter season, since the second and third parts focus on the resurrection, but it gradually became associated with Christmas instead because of the lengthy first part, which is about the nativity.

* Handel himself conducted Messiah over thirty times. He was stingy with food, but generous with his time and money, and most of these performances were fundraisers for various charities, often the foundling hospital. Thousands of pounds were raised, leading historian Charles Burney to write, “Messiah has fed the hungry, clothed the naked and fostered the orphan more than any single musical production in this or any other country.”

* The first performance of Messiah in Bath was November 24, 1756. By this time, the oratorio was associated with Christmas, although it was performed several times a year in various venues, including the Upper Rooms. The piece was also performed to celebrate the opening of the Octagon Chapel on Milsom Street in 1767.

* William Herschel, who discovered Uranus, was the organist at the Octagon Chapel, and he conducted Messiah frequently, often with his sister Caroline as one of the soloists.

* Knowing Jane Austen’s love of music, and the frequent performances of Messiah in Bath, through the late 18^th and 19^th centuries, she almost certainly heard the piece and likely knew it well.

Messiah features in all three of my Austen Echoes books, since my characters all sing in a concert choir. Here’s an excerpt from the second book, The Matchmaker’s Melody, based on Austen’s Emma.

***

With Christmas almost upon them, the days flew by, and before she knew it, Emma was preparing for the first of the choir’s Christmas concerts. One of the carols they were to perform included some passages for solo soprano, and as the best singer in the section, she, of course, would sing them. She took a hot shower, drank warm eucalyptus tea, and went through all her usual routines and warm-ups to ensure that her voice was at its very best.

This being a smaller concert than the following week’s ‘Messiah’, or the Mozart mass they were scheduled to sing in the spring, there was no orchestra—only Gordon at the piano. As much as Emma enjoyed the big pieces, she loved the intimacy of these smaller shows, the cosiness and the familiarity of it all. There was something especially pleasing knowing that it was Gordon who was to play for them.

In some ways, nothing had changed between them since the night of the gala, but in some intangible way, everything had. There was an added depth to their friendship, something far beyond the casual evolution of childhood friendships they’d had before, or even the comfort of old family friends. More and more, Emma felt if ever she needed someone to whom she could unburden her heart, it was him. He might question her decisions and chastise her for every imaginable shortcoming, but he would be there for her and he would never belittle her. Any criticism he might offer was intended for her own good and came from the heart. She had never felt this way about another friend and she cherished it.

With this new connection foremost in her thoughts, she caught his eye as she stood straight and tall for her solos, and sang with the voice of an angel, knowing his solid, dependable playing supported her unconditionally. Just like he supported her unconditionally.

Afterwards, everyone gathered around her to praise her for her beautiful singing, and with a modesty that was only partly assumed, she returned the accolades, citing the rest of the choir for their perfect performance, and pointing out Gordon’s sensitive accompaniment.

He smiled as she shared the glory, and that made her unaccountably happy.

The following week were the two performances of ‘Messiah’, this time with full orchestra and professional soloists. The first of these performances, on Friday night, was out of town, about an hour’s drive from the city. Most of the choir members carpooled, and Emma ended up driving with Halli, Ashleigh, and Gordon.

She had been disappointed that Phil hadn’t offered to drive Halli, and even more so when he asked if he could join them only after the car was full. If only she had known he was going to need a ride, she would have told Ash that there weren’t any more seats.

But this did give her the opportunity to see if any sparks flew between Ash and Gordon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted there to be some, or not.

The concert went well, and the drive home was accompanied by everyone’s accounts of the concert, their impressions of the soloists, their thoughts about the orchestra, and what they hoped for the following night. As for Ash and Gordon, there were no sparks at all. Good. He deserved someone better, anyway.

The second of the two performances was in Toronto, at a church where they often sang, with its lovely stained-glass windows and rich acoustics. The orchestra squeezed themselves into the tight space between the first pew and the risers for the choir, and glorious sounds resonated all through the building. The choir sang beautifully, with not a single swallowed mistake at the big grand pause in the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’, and the soloists were first rate. It was a grand success.

After the concert, of course, came the party. Every Christmas concert needs a reception afterwards, where everyone could relax and let loose and just enjoy each other’s company without worrying about the rest of the rehearsal. There was also a sort of gift exchange that Taylor had helped to organise for anyone interested. It had sounded like fun, and Emma was always interested in anything that might appeal to her fans. And so, when Taylor asked her if she’d be willing to help out, she’d jumped at the chance.

It also provided an excellent opportunity to get Halli and Phil together at last.

***

You can read more about Emma’s matchmaking attempts in The Matchmaker’s Melody, now available at Amazon in ebook and paperback, and free to read with KU.