We
have the foresight of the Victorian-era impresario Richard
D’Oyly-Carte to thank for creating and nurturing the
partnership of composer Sir Arthur Sullivan and librettist
William Schwenk Gilbert. During the years of their often
less-than-cordial collaboration, they produced fourteen
opereattas on a wide range of fanciful subjects; many of them
are masterpieces, none is less than brilliant. The marriage of
Sullivan’s exquisitely crafted music, filled with references
to the current operatic fashion of the day, and Gilbert’s
witty and satirical lyrics created a model for much of what was
later to transform into the American Musical Theater style, with
its similarly symbiotic pairings–Rodgers and Hammerstein,
Lerner and Loewe. Indeed, pirated versions of the Savoy Operas
(as the collaborations became known in the 1880’s) rubbed
shoulders in America with the early works of Irving Berlin and
Victor Herbert, providing both competition and model.
Although
the two unlikely partners were somewhat thrown together by the
commission for Trial
by Jury in 1874 (to
Gilbert’s pre-existing libretto,) The
Sorcerer was their
first true collaborative effort. In the excerpt we hear this
afternoon, an assembly of wedding guests eagerly await the
arrival of the evening’s repast, listing the menu items as
they sing “The eggs and the ham and the strawberry jam, the
rollicking bun and the gay Sally Lunn…” Little do they know
that the tea they are drinking is a magic potion…
Marriage
festivities figure prominently in The
Gondoliers as well.
In this excerpt, the chorus of guests hail the arrival of the
newlyweds Tessa and Giuseppe; Tessa then sings a lovely ballad
extolling the joys of wedded bliss. Later in the second act,
after an enforced separation, the lovers rejoice with their
friends I a cachucha, that “wildest of dances.”
The
Yeomen of the Guard
is quite easily the darkest of the Savoy operas. The main
character, a traveling jester named Jack Point, is madly in love
with Elsie, a fellow player. When his troupe arrives in the
town, the villagers and guardsmen demand to be entertained, and
Point and Elsie oblige with The Song of the Merryman and his
Maid. The lyrics poignantly mirror the jester’s own
infatuation with the beloved he cannot aspire to, and indeed
Elsie falls in love with an other man, leaving the pathetic Jack
Point alone onstage at the end – no happy ending for him…
After
a notoriously public quarrel, Gilbert and Sullivan reunited for Utopia
Ltd., which was a
modest success with 245 performances given. The chorus “Eagle
high in cloudland soaring” has the character of a national
anthem or hymn, reminding us that Sullivan was indeed known for
his contributions to Anglicanhymnody. Sullivan responds to
Gilbert’s list of animals with appropriate music gestures,
though the references to eagle-hunting strike one as appalling
today!
The
Pirates of Penzance
is perhaps the most enduring of all the Gilbert and Sullivan
oeuvre. Its striking music and hilarious libretto make it the
quintessential Savoy opera. The plot centers on a band of
pirates who are actually misguided noblemen, a young apprentice
who cannot leave the band until his 21st
birthday (though he was born in leap-year) and babies who were
switched at birth. To quote from H.M.S. Pinafore, “Things are
seldom what they seem.” Major-General Stanley introduces
himself in Act One with the best-known of all patter-songs. His
skills, it seems, have nothing do with the military. As the plot
evolves, he finds himself at the beginning of Act Two being
consoled by his loving daughters before he rallies his troops
for the coming battle. In the charming chorus of policemen, the
not-so-brave defenders of the peace are anything but eager to do
battle with the fierce band of pirates, but are eventually
spurred on by Mabel’s exhortations.
The
Mikado
came about as the result of the visiting pan-Japanese exposition
which visited London in the early 1880’s. England became
obsessed with all things Japanese, and Gilbert and Sullivan
responded to the fervor with a fanciful work set in a mythical
Japan full of silly names and even sillier job titles. Ko-Ko,
the Lord High Executioner, is in love with Yum-Yum, who in turn
loves Nanki-Poo (the son of the eponymous ruler of Japan) who
has arrived in Titipu in disguise to avoid his own impending
wedding to Katisha. The first act ends with the chorus of
well-wishers stymieing the efforts of Katisha to reveal
Nanki-Poo’s true identity.
Dating
from 1875, Trial
by Jury is the first
surviving collaboration of Gilbert and Sullivan. (The earlier Thespis
is lost, save for one song.) It is quite unlike the later works
in respect to its structure; all of the later operas consist of
musical numbers connected by dialogue, lasting roughly an hour
and a half. Trial by Jury is an extremely compact little work,
through-composed (i.e. without dialogue) and lasting a mere
half-hour. As such, it is usually performed as part of a
double-bill. The absurd plot explains itself as it goes along,
one of the highlights being the grand sextet, modeled after the
Italian bel canto school. As with many of Gilbert’s
plot elements, one must cringe slightly at the notion of the
prospective husband who would beat his wife when under the
influence, though in his (and Gilbert’s) defense, he is
using this as a reason not
to marry Angelina. At any rate, all ends well as the exasperated
Judge solves the case by marrying her himself, leaving the
(un-named) Defendant free to marry his true sweetheart.
Beethoven's
Missa Solemnis
January,
2011
“From the heart -
may it go to the heart!” Thus did Beethoven inscribe the
manuscript of his magnificent Missa Solemnis. He was at the
height of his creative powers when he wrote his solemn mass - a
supreme achievement by any standard - rarely performed because of
the superhuman demands it makes on all performers. Originally
planned for the March 1820 installation of Archduke Rudolph as
Archbishop of Olmütz, his
important patron and student, the work was not completed in time.
Perhaps it was that the mass had grown in importance from merely a
work for a particular special occasion, to a statement of his
deepest - if unorthodox - religious beliefs. Beethoven wrote to the
Archduke, “My chief aim when I was composing this grand Mass was
to awaken and permanently instill religious feelings, not only in
the singers, but also in the listeners.”
During his work on the mass a change seemed to take place in
Beethoven, described by his friend Anton Schindler on a visit to the
composer’s home. “In
the living room, behind a locked door, we heard the master singing
parts of the fugue in the Credo - singing, howling, stamping....the
door opened and Beethoven stood before us with distorted features,
calculated to excite fear. He looked as if he had been in mortal
combat with the whole host of contrapuntists, his everlasting
enemies... ‘Everyone has run off and I have had nothing to eat
since yesterday noon.’” Right
from the beginning, Beethoven’s music derives its feeling and form
from the meaning of the texts...from the pleading of the Kyrie (Lord
have mercy) to the jubilant Gloria, with its concluding shouts of
“Gloria.” The dramatic Credo follows, then the Sanctus and a
beatific Benedictus. Most mystifying, however, are the final pages,
in which pleas for peace are underscored by the sound of martial
drumbeats....as though suggesting that war is ever with us.
Johannes
Brahms
May 2010
Johannes Brahms’ reputation as one of the greatest composers of music
for the human voice is well-established by his huge contribution to
the repertoire of German Lieder. And yet, leaving aside for a moment
his masterpiece, the “Deutsches Requiem,” there is relatively
little in his vast output for a “standard” four-voiced chorus.
Of course, there is the “Alto Rhapsody” and the lesser-known “Nänie,”
but these call for a four-part male choir rather than the usual
distribution of voices. Even the “Liebeslieder Waltzes” (often
performed by full SATB choruses) were intended for solo singers. On
this afternoon’s program, we have a chance to imagine what
Brahms’ Lieder might have sounded had he arranged them for chorus,
along with a judicious selection – a “suite,” if you will –
of the Liebeslieder.
Among Brahms’ published work for solo voice are seven volumes of German
folksongs with the composer’s own accompaniments. For the
selections on our program, I have chosen five of the most popular
and arranged them for chorus, following Brahms’ own harmonization
as seen in his lovely piano parts. Similarly, my arrangement of the
“Vier ernste Gesänge” follows Brahms’ virtuosic piano
accompaniment in the distribution of the choral voices.
One cannot think of the “Vier ernste Gesänge” without acknowledging
the “German Requiem”. Although Brahms was not a “religious”
man in the traditional sense, his music exhibits a deep
spirituality, and it is well-known that he had a fine working
knowledge of biblical texts. The Requiem was written in memory of
the composer’s mother, and draws on passages from the scriptures
rather than the traditional Catholic texts. The four Lieder of
Op.121 are Brahms’ final compositions, and must be seen (and
heard) as a sort of “last will and testament”. The texts of the
first three come from the Old Testament and the Apocrypha, and
display a bleak vision of impending death, which is partly assuaged
by the second verse of “O Tod, wie bitter bist du”. Brahms’
choice of text for the final song comes from Paul’s first letter
to the Corinthians, and is an affirmation of hope in the power of
Love.
The two sets of “Liebeslieder Waltzes,” Opp.52 and 65, represent an
entirely different style. They follow in the tradition of that
lovely German art-form known as “Hausmusik” – that is, music
to be performed at home in the company of friends. I am quite sure
that Brahms would have been startled to hear them sung by a full
chorus in a concert-hall, but that is the place they have come to
occupy in the modern choral tradition. Many of the songs are simply
unsuitable for chorus, being either solos or duets; our selection
concentrates on those most appropriate for choral performance. The
texts for all but the last song come from the collection “Polydora,”
a set of translations by Georg Friedrich Daumer from Bohemian
folk-poetry. They are charming and filled with lovely imagery of
nature and love, but are not terribly profound. The final song,
however, shows Brahms at his most inspired, as he departs from
Daumer’s lyrics to set one of the most inspired poems in the
German language – Goethe’s “Zum Schluß” (roughly
translated, “At the End,” or, “To Finish.”) It makes a
perfect ending to an afternoon’s music-making, giving thanks for
the healing power of the muses and the inspiration from which they
provide to musicians and audiences alike.
Bach
B Minor Mass
January 2010
As one listens to a
performance of J. S. Bach’s monumental setting of the Catholic
Mass liturgy, one is struck by many contradictions. First among
these might be the realization that this work was written by a
composer who spent the greater part of his creative life in the
service of the Lutheran church. Then, one might observe the extreme
eclecticism of the writing – almost a hodge-podge of compositional
styles. Also, at almost two hours in length, the Mass is entirely
unsuitable for use in a liturgical context, and this cannot go
unnoticed either. There are explanations for all of these factors,
of course. The latter is due to the fact that the work we now call
the “Mass in B-Minor” was never intended for performance as part
of a church service. The element of stylistic eclecticism can be
attributed to the way in which the piece was assembled from around
two decades worth of Bach’s previous work. As to the first point,
the B-Minor Mass has indeed often been referred to as “the
greatest Catholic Mass ever composed by a Lutheran.” This seeming
contradiction may be clarified by the realization that the Kyrie and
Gloria were part of the Lutheran rite as well, and Bach set these
texts to music on at least four other occasions, specifically for
use in church services.
The impetus for the
composition of this cornerstone of the choral repertoire stemmed
from the death of Augustus II, Elector of Saxony and King of Poland.
During the five months of enforced mourning wherein no music was
allowed to be performed, Bach completed the Kyrie and Gloria – the
portion referred to as the “Missa” – with the intention of
presenting the work to the successor Augustus III. The set of parts
submitted to the new Elector are in the hand of not only J. S. Bach,
but also that of his wife, two of his sons and an anonymous copyist.
The hoped-for professional recognition Bach was expecting from the
new ruler never materialized, however. As most scholars concur, it
was another decade or so
before Bach considered completing his setting of the Mass text.
The remaining portions
of the work were largely (musicologist Joshua Rifkin argues
“almost entirely”) comprised of revisions of previous
compositions, sometime in the early- to mid-1740’s. The list of
comparisons would be far too lengthy for the scope of these notes,
but the knowledge of this goes a long way toward an explanation of
the apparent stylistic inconsistency of the work as a whole. One
might surmise that the Master of Leipzig, nearing the sunset of his
life, deliberately set out to compose a work which would encompass
the styles of his forebears Schütz and Palestrina while looking
forward to the developments of the future generation of which his
sons were the embodiment. While an attractive hypothesis, this
notion is probably more along the lines of
romanticised hindsight. What seems more likely is that Bach
wished to produce some sort of “magnum opus” – a presentation
piece along the lines of the Brandenburg concertos – and found the
re-using of his earlier works an expedient convenience to that end.
In that sense, Bach’s “Mass in B-Minor” does indeed represent
a type of valedictory statement.
Despite the sporadic
nature of its genesis, the Mass still exhibits a beautiful sense of
symmetry and is redolent with the numerical symbolism of the Trinity
(and its various multiples.) The prominent use of obbligato
instruments (such as the hunting horn in the “Quoniam” or the
flute in “Benedictus”) remind one of Bach’s uncanny sense of
orchestration. The stark quality of the four-part choruses such as
the “Gratias agimus tibi” in contrast to the overtly expressive
gestures of the solo writing contribute to a listening experience
quite unlike that provided by any other such work. Bach’s Mass in
B-Minor provides a cross-section of the incredible stylistic range
of one of the greatest composers of choral music in our history. It
is difficult music – certainly for the performers, sometimes for
the listener as well! But this is among the reasons that Bach’s
Mass endures in the hearts of musicians, audiences and congregations
everywhere. Any performance of this piece is a festive occasion, and
we offer it to our audience this afternoon in the spirit of grateful
thanks for eight decades of love and support.
Rossini
Petite Messe Solennelle
May 2009
When the
premier of Rossini’s “Guillaume Tell” occurred in 1829, the
composer was only thirty-seven years old and arguably at the height
of his powers. For reasons still unclear, he abruptly ended his
composing career and retired to a villa on the outskirts of Paris
where he spent the remaining thirty-nine years of his life enjoying
a life of luxury, surrounded by good friends, good food and good
wine. He only returned to composing for social occasions, and aside
from his collection of works for piano and voice entitled “Pêchès
de vieillesse” (“Sins of Old Age”) produced only two major
works: the “Stabat Mater” in 1842 and the Petite Messe
Solennelle in 1863. The latter work was only given in private
performances until after Rossini’s death, when it was heard in
public for the first time in the composer’s own orchestration.
However, it is the original version for two pianos and harmonium
which is most often heard today.
The work is
unusual in many respects, not the least of which is its overtly
operatic character. It is also, despite its title, neither small nor
particularly solemn (though on the latter account at least it must
be acknowledged that “Messe Solennelle” was something of a
generic French term for musical settings of the propers of the
Mass.) In composing for the drawing-room rather than the church,
Rossini was not constrained by the literary form of the Mass as it
was set by countless other composers. This explains, among other
things, the extended piano solo, which precedes the Sanctus. The
insertion of the “O salutaris hostia”, however, is in accordance
with the standard French practice of the time.
The work begins
with a portentious introduction from the pianos and harmonium, and
the chorus enters in layers of counterpoint. A homophonic major-key
section brightens the mood somewhat. “Christe eleison” is set in
a deliberately archaic style reminiscent of the renaissance masters,
before the “Kyrie” returns – much as before, but in a
different key.
The
“Gloria” opens with flourishes from the keyboards and fanfare
from the chorus, before leading into four sections for the soloists
which are unabashedly operatic in their nature. Of these, the
tenor’s “Domine Deus” must be considered as the works “hit
single,” having been recorded by every tenor worth his salt since
the dawn of the twentieth century. The chorus returns for a
brilliant fugal setting of “Cum sancto spiritu” which brings the
movement to its conclusion.
In the
“Credo,” Rossini defies convention by repeating the opening word
numerous times, interspersed with the standard articles of faith as
espoused by the soloists. The “Crucifixus” is reserved for the
soprano alone. (This was also a popular item on early recordings,
including one by Alessandro Moreschi, the last surviving castrato,
which sheds some light on the performing tradition of Rossini’s
day). The chorus returns for another fugue – like the “Cum
sancto spiritu” a double-fugue – which can only be described as
“rollicking”. This is not a word one normally associates with
settings of the Mass, of course, but it creates a most effective and
delightful conclusion to the “Credo.”
The
aforementioned piano solo, entitled “Preludio religioso,” ushers
in the “Sanctus,” which is sung unaccompanied by the soloists
and chorus, and the work ends with a setting of the “Agnus Dei”
for the contralto and chorus which is perhaps the most overtly
operatic movement in the piece. The choral refrain of “Dona nobis
pacem” is heard three times, the final version extended to a
lovely and lyrical coda.
It is perhaps
ironic that so many great settings of the Mass have been undertaken
by composers who were well-known for not being particularly
religious. Rossini, far from being the exception, may well have been
even less inclined to the church than even Beethoven or Brahms. And
yet, he was Italian after all, and the liturgy was in his blood. In
the manuscript, he gives the following preface – perhaps as close
to a prayer as we are going to get from this notorious bon vivant:
"Good
God—behold completed this poor little Mass—is it indeed sacred
music [la musique sacrée] that I have just written, or
merely some damned music [la sacré musique]? You know well,
I was born for comic opera. Little science, a little heart, that is
all. So may you be blessed, and grant me Paradise!"
We sincerely
hope that our performance tonight does honor to the composer and his
marvelous work, and brings us all a little closer to Paradise.
Mendelssohn
Elijah
January 2009
The oratorio Elijah constitutes the last great
achievement of Felix Mendelssohn's brief but productive life. Little
more than a year after the work's premier at the Birmingham Choral
Festival in 1846, Mendelssohn lost his beloved sister Fanny, became
ill himself, and died after a series of debilitating strokes. It is
a highly dramatic work, in which certain sections seem to cry out
for staging. In many respects, it can be seen as the great opera
Mendelssohn always wanted to compose, plans that had been thwarted
for years by the lack of a suitable libretto (the parallel with
Schubert's operatic ambition does not go unnoticed!) Had Mendelssohn
lived, he would doubtless have completed his Loreley
(libretto by Geibel) but at the time of his death had finished only
a chorus and the finale of the first act.
Elijah follows by ten years Mendelssohn's other great
biblical ortatorio Paulus (St. Paul). After that work's
successful premier, Mendelssohn was already thinking of a setting
for the biblical story of Elijah. To his friend Carl Klingemann he
also proposed "Og of Bashan"; one wonders whether that
work would have had the success destined for Elijah!
Fortunately for posterity, it was the former subject that again drew
the composer's attention. In 1844. With the help of Julius Schubring,
he drafted a libretto, drawing on the Bible (particularly I Kings
17-19, The Book of Jeremiah and the Psalms) and crafting recitatives
for the more dramatic episodes. At its first performance the work
was a complete success; however, Mendelssohn was not satisfied with
it and made extensive revisions before the next performances. It is
this revised edition which has been performed ever since. Happily
for us, the composer's friends were able to persuade him to allow "O rest in the Lord" to
remain part of the work. One of Elijah's most popular
moments, it was destined for the scrap heap until the pleas of
Mendelssohn's closest friends convinced him of its merit.
The work exhibits many structural features common to dramatic works of
the time, but surely nothing like the prophet's opening recitative
had been attempted before. Mendelssohn lays out the subject matter
of the entire first part of the oratorio, showing the audience his
stern character before the Overture is allowed to begin. The
inexorable flow of the opening scene is also quite remarkable as
well - the Overture leads directly into the opening chorus's cries
for help, dissolving into the choral recitative and soprano/alto
lament, which lead to Obadiah's exhortation to leave their idles and
follow the true God. Almost without pausing, the chorus despairs
anew at ever finding favor with God, leading to the first of many
chorale-like sections of the work. It will be remembered that it was
Mendelssohn who was responsible for reviving the large choral works
of the other Leipzig master, J.S. Bach. As did Bach in his Passion
settings, Mendelssohn uses the reflective quality of the hymn-tune
to bring the larger theological messages to the fore. Part One
continues with the healing of the widow's son and the dramatic
confrontation with the priests of Baal. Elijah calls on the God of
Abraham who sends fire to burn the offering. When Elijah exhorts the
people to slay the prophets of Baal, God sends rain to the parched
land amid great rejoicing.
Part Two focuses on Elijah's denunciation by Jezebel and his journey into
the wilderness (watched over by a trio of angels); he is sent to
Mount Horeb and meets God face to face, then is sent back to renew
his mission. His ascension In a chariot of fire at the end of his
life is duly described by the chorus, who then pronounce the
prophecy of the coming of the Messiah. The work ends with a joyful
chorus featuring a brief "Amen" fugue.
Years before beginning work on Elijah, Mendelssohn had written to
his librettist Schubring: "In fact I imagined Elijah as a real
prophet through and through, of the kind we could really do with
today: strong, zealous and, yes, even bad tempered, angry and
brooding - in contrast to the riff-raff, whether of the court or of
the people, and indeed in contrast to almost the whole world - and
yet borne aloft as if on angels' wings." One can only agree
that Mendelssohn succeeded admirably in drawing this detailed
musical portrait of one of the Old Testament's most powerful
figures.
Handel
Messiah
May 2008
“MESSIAH.”
The word is redolent with meaning – theological,
philosophicaland musical. It is the name which represents the hope
of salvationfor the Judeo-Christian religious following. It is also,
somewhat obviously,
the title of the work
for which Georg Frideric Händel is universally recognized. In a
career which spanned many decades and continents, it is this single
work which, for better or worse, embodies the essence of its
composer’s achievements. Messiah has been presented in so many
guises and in so many styles that its original essence has been
largely forgotten. In our performance this afternoon, we hope to
return to something the composer himself might have recognized. The
use of authentic instruments and a style of execution based on the
performance practice of the Baroque era may serve as a framework in
which to imagine Händel’s masterpiece as something greater than
the average performance to which we have become accustomed. This is
our hope…
The essential backstory of Messiah is well known. In the
summer of 1741, Händel began to set to music the selection of
biblical passages given to him by Charles Jennens. Jennens was an
acknowledged scholar and patron of the arts who had already supplied
Händel with librettos to Saul, Israel in Egypt and L’Allegro,
il Penseroso ed il Moderato. Much of the success of Messiah must
be given to Jennens, who managed to fashion a compelling and
dramatic narrative out of texts derived from the Old and New
Testaments, depicting the prophecy of Messiah’s birth and
ministry, his passion and death, his resurrection and impact on the
future of the Christian church. In an oft-quoted letter to a friend,
Jennens wrote that Händel "…will lay out his whole Genius
& Skill upon it, that the Composition may excel all his former
Compositions, as the Subject excels every other Subject. The Subject
is Messiah.”
Händel indeed brought
all of his compositional skills to bear. The score was completed in
the startlingly short span of twenty-four days. We know now that
some of the movements were recyclings of Händel’s earlier
compositions; the choruses “For unto us a child is born” and
“All we, like sheep” constitute a reworking of parts of the
early Italian cantata “Nò, di voi non vo’ fidarmi;” the
choruses “And he shall purify” and “His yoke is easy”
likewise derive from the duet “Quel fior che all’alba ride.”
By the same token, “Glory to God” and “Lift up your heads”
were extrapolated from various movements of Händel’s “Concerti
a due cori.” None of this information is intended to belittle in
any way Händel’s lightning-speed composition of “Messiah.”
One study has posited that it would be virtually impossible for a
single person to simply write down the notes of the work in full
score over the course of twenty-four days!What is more important,
and germane to our latter-day understanding of this masterpiece, is
the very specificity of Händel’s response to the texts presented
to him by his librettist. The greater part of the narrative is taken
from the Hebrew Bible, even including the dramatic Passion story in
Part Two. Händel responds to the Biblical narrative with vivid
musical gestures. From the very beginning, the tenor’s depiction
of Isaiah’s exalted valleys, mountains and hills made low, crooked
paths made straight and rough places made plain thrust us into a
world of Baroque-era text painting. The chorus extols the “Glory
of the Lord,” the bass soloist paints the shaking of the heavens
and earth…
…and this brings us to the conceit of today’s performance.
We have chosen to present a few variant versions of the arias in
opposition to those which modern audiences may recognize. This is
not so much an attempt to somehow present a “different” Messiah
for its own sake as to offer our audience an alternate version based
on some of Händel’s developing views of his work over the many
years of its performances during his lifetime.
No.6 “But who may abide” – Händel’s original
conception for bass solo did not include the vivid description of
the “refiner’s fire” to which we have become accustomed. We
are therefore rejecting the original version in favor of Händel’s
transcription of version II for soprano (according to the Foundling
Hospital performance of 1754.) This version leads directlyinto the
key of g minor for the chorus “And he shall purify.”
No.13/14 “Pifa” – We have grown accustomed to the
extended version of this instrumental interlude, but Händel’s
original conception was as a brief introduction to the
shepherds/angels narrative. We have also chosen to use the arioso
version of “And lo, the angels of the Lord” as found in the
alternative Goldschmidt manuscript.
No.18 “Rejoice
greatly” – Händel’s original setting of this text as a Gigue
in compound-time is often heard today. One might argue that it
captures much more effectively the “rejoicing” of its subject
matter than the more virtuosic common-time variant.
Nos.29/32 “Thy
rebuke…” – This construction, following on the heels of the
dramatic choral tryptich which precedes it, seems so likely intended
as a free-standing solo cantata for the tenor soloist that we have
decided to present it as such.
No.36 “Thou art gone
up on high” – The first version for bass, while less ornate than
the subsequent alto revision, has the authority of original
utterance, and we include it here as an example of Händel’s
original thoughts.
No.38 “How beautiful are the feet” – Händel’s
original conception of this was as a da capo aria, with the
text of “Their sound is gone out” as the middle section. This
may well be the first time any of us has heard this version. I know
of no recording, and I have never heard it in performance!
No.40 “Why do the nations” – The truncated middle
section has a great sense of dramatic impetus which leads us
directly into the following chorus.
No.50 “O death, where is thy sting?” – Händel’s
original version contains 20 bars which were later omitted, as they
are in all modern performances. We are presenting the entire duet
according to the composer’s original vision.
It is our hope that these alternate (and, in some cases,
seldom-heard) versions of music we have come to know and love will
serve to illuminate a familiar masterpiece in a new light.
Ultimately, the goal of any performance of Messiah must be to move
its audience – whether as scripture, poetry, drama or simply as
pure music. Through the use of period instruments, performance
practices consistent with the usage of Händel’s time and a
refreshing opportunity to hear some of the composer’s original
thoughts, we hope to make this evergreen audience favorite sound
anew, as though one were experiencing its splendor for the first
time.
