Part 1, scene iii, no. 10 Accompagnato: Isaiah 60:2-3
“For, behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the LORD shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising.”
This recitative begins ominously, with the strings wandering blindly and steadily around the key of b minor. The listener can feel the despair and oppression, the darkness weighs heavily.
The bass enters with “For behold, darkness shall cover the earth and gross darkness the people.” In this performance, the bass is not making a proclamation, something we expect when we hear the word behold. Rather, he enters gently and with trepidation. This makes the move to D major feel more like a dawning of hope. “But the Lord shall arise” is presented in this new key and Handel uses a steady climbing in the vocal line to paint the coming light. “And his glory” is given to us in a gloriously held dominant chord before it descends from on high so that it “shall be seen upon thee.”
Then Isaiah gives us one of the most shocking statements of prophecy given to the Jewish nation, “and the Gentiles shall come to thy light.” Handel moves us here to a new and unexpected key of F# major – a key associated with the soul that has deeply struggled and triumphed. (Christian Schubart, Ideen zu einer Aesthetik der Tonkunst 1806)
The final phrase of the prophecy, “and kings to the brightness of thy rising,” is given a high note on kings and descends like the sun’s rays to end on an ascending perfect fourth on the word rising.
There is so much packed into this short recitative, I hardly know where to start. It just occurred to me, right now, that perhaps the final line of this prophecy may refer to the Magi that followed the bright star. We refer to the wise men as kings, even though we don’t know that they were. Just a thought.
Doesn’t this piece feel appropriate for our time? It feels like we are covered with darkness, even gross darkness. The darkness of pandemic, and politics, and injustice. So often we seem to be blindly staggering around with no clear light at the end of the tunnel. Isaiah’s prophecy, which I believe to be as true now as it was pre-Christ, promises that the LORD shall arise with light upon us and we shall see his glory. This is hope that I cling to in these dark days.
Part 1, scene iii, no. 9 Air and Chorus: Isaiah 40:9; 60:1
“O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion, get thee up into the high mountain: O thou that tellest good tidings to Jerusalem, lift up thy voice with strength; lift it up, be not afraid; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God! Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.”
This is one of my favorite movements in Messiah. It is full of restrained jubilance. Handel sets this movement in a ritornello form so the motivic material is clear and evident. The key is D major which is considered triumphant in the Baroque doctrine of affections which links tonal centers with different emotions, but he keeps the orchestration simpler than most triumphal pieces – there are no trumpets or timpani. D major is also one of the most accessible keys for string players and allows those instruments to sparkle. Handel uses a compound duple meter which gives a dance-like quality.
All of this adds up to a piece of great joy mixed with anticipation. The text is telling the bearers of good news, of the God-spell or gospel, to get as high up as they can and point to the coming Messiah. “Oh thou that tellest good tidings to Zion, get thee up!” He is approaching, the Bridegroom is coming. “Behold your God!”
This particular performance was a new one for me, and I love it. The tempo is faster than we usually hear it, but more in keeping with the excitement of the music. While English is clearly not the singer’s first language, her interpretation was universal – this is a message for all people. She sings the text with lightness and expectancy. The orchestra creates stunning contrasts between the high motivic material, and the tidings being shared with the low notes. Listen carefully to what the orchestra does when she sings “Behold your God.” There is a moment of awe and wonder.
When the chorus enters at the end of the aria, they maintain the same sense of expectancy. They echo the message of joy.
Part 1, scene iii, no. 8 Recitative: Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:23
“Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel, GOD WITH US.”
This is the first recitativo secco, or dry recitative, Handel uses in Messiah. Secco recitativo is characterized by the speech-like rhythm of the music and the use of basso continuo to accompany the voice. Basso continuo was the most common type of accompaniment in baroque music. It consisted of a bass instrument and a harmony instrument, in this case cello and harpsichord, that improvised above a bass line called figured bass. The composer would write JUST the bass line with some “figures” – numbers or accidental markings. The bass instrument would play the bass line and the harmony instrument would be used to “realize” the figured bass, or improvise a chordal accompaniment using the composer’s shorthand. In dry recitative, the harmonic motion tends to be slow and that is what we find here.
The text is intended to be the most important part of secco recitative. Baroque opera composers, of which Handel was one of the greatest, used dry recit to move the story forward, reserving the arias for emotional commentary. “Behold, a virgin shall conceive” serves this purpose, and yet Handel imbues it with dignity and purpose beyond the simplicity of the music. This is a crucial part of the story. Handel states that in clear syllabic text (one note per syllable). This is a proclamation of highest import.
It is, isn’t it? Only one virgin has ever borne a child. This is miraculous in every way possible. I’ve often wondered about Mary. Just last night I heard a talk by one of our pastors on this very topic. Her point was not that the virgin conception was miraculous and mysterious. It was that Mary was so young. The word virgin in biblical context tells us that. Girls were married off fairly early, and while Mary was engaged, she was not yet with her husband. She was probably 13 or 14, at the high end MAYBE 16. Once she hit puberty, it was time. The betrothal for a virgin lasted between 10 months and a year.
The point Kris made about Mary’s youth is that she was still young enough to believe in possibilities, in dreams. It was, perhaps, easier to accept that such a thing could happen, and she was young enough, perhaps, not to fully understand the consequences of this pregnancy outside of marriage.
Mary was also betrothed to a good man. When he found out she was pregnant, he could have had her stoned which would have saved his reputation. He knew the child wasn’t his, but who else would believe that? At best, people would have assumed they had been intimate outside of marriage – a shameful act in their society – and at worst, he had been cuckolded. Yet Joseph, even before the angelic visit, makes the decision to end things quietly. He is also a godly man. When the angel appears and tells him the truth, he recognizes this prophecy. He believes the angel and names the child Jesus, “for he will save the people from their sins.” Matthew 1: 21
“And he shall purify the sons of Levi, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness.”
The fugue is arguably the most beloved form of Baroque composers – it certainly was of Bach! But Handel also employed fugues and this is the first one we see in Messiah.
Texture in music can be defined as how the individual musical lines are put together. Monophonic is unison – when everyone is singing and/or playing the same note at the same time. Homophonic is probably the most common in our day – when there is a clear melody that is accompanied by a chordal structure – think of a hymn or a pop song. The final texture is polyphony – when each individual line of music has an interesting melody that is layered one atop the other.
The fugue is a specific type of polyphony. It uses points of imitation that then spin off into free counterpoint, but the entrance of each individual voice is the same thematic material. The first time the theme is presented it is called the subject, and we usually hear it in its entirety. This is certainly true of “And he shall purify.” The sopranos immediately present us with the fugue theme in the key of g minor which establishes “home.” Before they are quite done, the basses begin the theme but this time in the dominant of g minor, d minor. This is called the answer – it is strict imitation, but starts on a different note. The altos also come in on the dominant – this is slightly unusual but not unheard of in a fugue – usually we would hear the theme again in the tonic key – but Handel gives that to us in the next entrance with the tenors. So now we have a scheme that goes subject – answer – answer – subject, and every voice has presented the theme once in its entirety. This time, however, he lets the tenors continue with a countersubject on the text “the sons of Levi.” A countersubject is a second theme that will only be heard in conjunction with the first theme.
After this initial presentation by all the voices of the theme, we get an episode of different music. In this case, Handel uses a homophonic and homorhythmic declamation of the text: “that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness.” The homophonic texture sets this text apart as a group exercise, the offering is from the people, as opposed to the purifying which is from the Lord.
Following the episode, we hear the fugal subject again, but not in its completeness, and passed through various keys before the tenors kick it off one last time quickly followed by one voice after another, layering theme on theme until all voices come together homophonically at the end.
The fugue is a very intellectual form of music. It requires the listener to pay attention carefully; to learn the theme and then listen for each presentation of it. The term fugue comes from the Italian word fuga which means “to fly” or “to escape.” You can certainly hear that in this fugue as the voices fly and chase each other throughout, only pausing long enough to bring an offering to the Lord.
In so many ways, I find myself flying from purification. Being purified isn’t an easy process – remember the refiner’s fire? Handel’s use of a fugue to set this text is certainly ironic and yet completely apropos. We try to fly or escape from the Lord, when we should be flying to Him. Only when we have been purified, caught by the Lord, can we bring an offering as one who is right with God. Maybe that is what Handel really meant by this fugue.
“But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner’s fire.”
“But who may abide the day of his coming?” begins in a slow lilting triple meter in the key of d minor. Key selection was important to Baroque composers because they felt that inward emotions could be conveyed by outward signs and that music could be used to invoke specific emotions. In this case the key of d minor signified something serious. What could be more serious than contemplating the day of judgement?
Handel interrupts this contemplative section by changing key, meter, and tempo. He bursts into a fiery, fast, almost frantic depiction of the text that leaves the singer and listener breathless. Handel also indicates the contrasts of forte and piano, which was uncommon in his era. It was generally assumed the performer was clever enough to figure it out, but clearly it was important to Handel that his dynamic markings be followed closely in this section. We hear the crackling and fluctuations of an intense fire.
He repeats these two sections in an abbreviated format allowing us to contemplate both the dread AND fear of judgement. But we aren’t left without hope – the refiner’s fire is not intended to consume everything, only the dross leaving the pure gold at the end. While unpleasant, it leaves the final product perfect and pure.
I love this recording from 1987 featuring Robert Shaw conducting the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and featuring Marietta Simpson as the alto soloist. Her stillness and accuracy is breathtaking. She sings this intense solo with dignity and strength. My senior year in college I had the privilege of singing the St. Matthew Passion under the direction of Maestro Shaw, and I can attest to his attention to the detail and intention of the composer as well as his immense musicality. He would conduct staring at his left shoelace, but if something wasn’t as he wanted it, his head would shoot up and piercing blue eyes would immediately find the source of the problem. His ear for the music was impeccable. I learned so much in the short time we had with him about the importance of freedom of expression within the boundaries of what the composer wrote – accuracy was important but so was emotional context.
This is a good life lesson.
Maybe we are living within a refiner’s fire now. So many things we deemed important are being stripped away leaving us with what truly matters. Maybe the end result will be worth the current discomfort.
Part 1, scene ii, no. 5 Recitative: Haggai 2:6-7 & Malachi 3:1
“Thus saith the Lord, the Lord of Hosts; yet once, a little while, and I will shake the heav’ns, and the earth, the sea, and the dry land; and I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come; the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, ev’n the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, he shall come, saith the Lord of hosts.”
Handel begins this accompanied recitative with the orchestra rhythmically outlining a D minor chord and a proclamation “thus saith the Lord” by the bass in stentorian tones. It’s a little scary. The listener is meant to sit up and take notice.
But then suddenly the modality switches to the relative major key of F. It’s as if, now that he has our attention, Handel switches to an exciting secret. The bass word-paints “shakes” but in major – and it feels light-hearted – almost a jolly laugh. The bass sings a few more of these belly-laughs (like a bowlful of jelly?) and then the high strings start to build the excitement with repeated sixteenth notes. The low strings add an ascending bass line that walks up the C scale – the dominant of F – and creates a sense of anticipation. This shaking isn’t meant to fill us with dread, but to wake us up – with the longest coloratura passage on the word “desire.” The desire of all nations is coming! Wake up!
After a strong cadence in F major, there is another quick switch. In a declamatory forte, the strings use a dotted-rhythm to introduce the secco or dry recitative – a recitative in which the orchestra only punctuates the text. The dotted rhythm was frequently linked to the processional of royalty – Lully used it in all of his French ouvertures, designed to get Louis XIV into the room – and composers all over Europe adopted it. Handel uses it here in the secco recitative in which the herald announces the King: “The Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple…” But the herald is gentler in this section, this is a benevolent Lord, one in whom we delight.
“And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.”
This is the first chorus we hear in Messiah. One of the hallmarks of English oratorio is the use of chorus as a significant role in the story. Handel gives the chorus music that is as interesting and complex to sing as he gives to the soloists.
“And the glory of the Lord” introduces the thematic material in the strings senza ripieno. In baroque orchestral music of a certain genre, there were two groups within the orchestra – a small group of instruments drawn from within the orchestra, and the tutti or ripieno which was the full orchestra. Pitting these two groups against each other provided contrast. Senza ripieno means to use just the smaller group from within which creates a delicacy. When the score is marked tutti, everyone joins in which gives importance and weight to the musical motives and the text. The first we hear tutti in “And the glory of the Lord” is when the full chorus makes that very statement. Most modern orchestral conductors choose to ignore this marking and have the whole orchestra play, just more lightly, and that is what we hear in this recording.
Handel employs three standard baroque techniques in this piece. The first is the use of ritornello form. I mentioned this briefly when discussing “Ev’ry valley” but it bears more in depth explanation. The most commonly used form in baroque orchestral music, the ritornello gives an initial statement of the thematic material, and then has a “little return” periodically throughout the movement, frequently in a different key and rarely in its entirety. This technique creates a sense of familiarity – we sit up and think “I’ve heard this before!”
The second technique is the use of the hemiola. As an aside, this is one of those words that is really fun to say – one of my favorite musical terms. A hemiola occurs when we are in a triple meter and suddenly it feels like we shift to a duple meter. In other words we go from counting 1-2-3-1-2-3 to counting 1-2-3-1-2-3. It’s a sort of large scale syncopation.
One final technique that should be explained to fully understand this piece is the use of points of imitation. A holdover from the Renaissance, late Baroque composers used this technique when they wanted to emphasize a text or musical motive. It begins with one voice stating the motive, and then is “imitated” by the other voices starting on different pitches.
We hear Handel use all three of these techniques in “And the glory of the Lord.” He begins with a statement of the thematic material creating the ritornello and ends that material with a hemiola.
When the altos enter they give us the first motive that Handel will use as a point of imitation, followed by the whole chorus (and tutti orchestra for the first time) singing together the initial statement of the text. The tenors then get a second motive that will be used imitatively. These two motives then move throughout the chorus until they all come together to proclaim the text ending with a hemiola. We then get our first ritornello presented in the dominant key – we know this because we can see all manner of accidentals which take us away from the key of A major to its dominant of E major.
We now have a second section of musical material presented. A new motive is again delivered by the altos first, but this time Handel moves immediately into a point of imitation: “and all flesh shall see it together.” The men sing a stentorian proclamation on repeated longer notes: “for the mouth of the Lord has spoken it.” He then takes these two phrases and passes them all around the chorus. There follows a small ritornello and another full choral statement of “and the glory of the Lord.”
From here until the end of the work, these four motives are shared as points of imitation throughout the chorus. Handel ends the movement with one of his trademarks – a few moments of silence followed by one last grand statement by the full chorus and orchestra.
This has been a lot of complicated explanation of some terminology that we will hear again and again throughout Messiah. But understanding what we are hearing gives depth and meaning to the text in a way just reading it cannot.
“And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed” seems to me a double prophecy – one that has occurred and will occur again in the last days. The revelation of the Lord’s glory the first time came in a star shining in the night and was shared with only a few shepherds and some wise men. This is the gentle first motive Handel gives us. “All flesh shall see it together” won’t happen until the Lord makes his second arrival in triumph and “every knee shall bow… and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of the Father.” (Philippians 2:20-11) This is the final grand statement of this movement.
“Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low: the crooked straight and the rough places plain.”
When I was kid we used to pile in the back of my Grandpa’s hovercraft of a car, and he would drive us into town. The road we took was full of dips and hills, and we called it the roller-coaster road because he would gun it and our tummies would fly up and down. This happened pre-seatbelts and we were all over the back of the car, squealing and laughing.
Fast forward to my adulthood. The highway department came through and leveled out most of that road, taking out the ups and downs and sharp curves, and while it is now less fun to drive it is far more efficient and safe.
Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low; the crooked straight, and the rough places plain.
That is exactly what happened to our roller coaster road. A safe highway was created.
Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight…a highway for our God.
Christ came into a time fulfilled. The world was perfectly placed for the diffusion of Christianity at precisely that time in history. Pax Romana had, among other things, created good roads. Safe roads. At no time before had the world been as safe for travel. The roads were level and well kept. Within 500 years of Christ’s birth, most of Europe and North Africa were Christian. That is not a very long time in the span of history.
I mentioned word-painting in an earlier post. In this movement of Messiah we can hear it used correctly. Handel begins this movement with an instrumental ritornello, or little return. We will hear snippets of this material interspersed with the vocal material throughout the work. He then gives us, as is common in Baroque literature, an initial statement of the opening phrase. Handel then leads into a coloratura passage in which the “valleys” are “exalted” by using an ascending sequential pattern (starting at 3’29” in the recording.) He then ascends to “mountain” as the highest note of the phrase before descending to the lowest note of the phrase on the word “low.”
“The crooked” meanders around until it comes to a held note on “straight.” All of this is the DEFINITION of word-painting.
But it is more than that. Handel gives us such joyful music, it is almost as if the mountains, hills, and rough places are magically re-aligning themselves for the coming of Messiah. One hears the words of Psalm 114:4 brought to life musically: “You mountains, why were you jumping like goats, and you little hills like lambs?”
I particularly love this performance by tenor Kurt Streit and the English Concert directed by Trevor Pinnock. Streit fully captures the excitement and joy of this work, and of the anticipation of the coming Messiah.
“The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”
The voice crying in the wilderness is John the Baptist. John knew Jesus from the womb. When Mary became pregnant as an unwed teen, the first place she went was to John’s mother, and Elizabeth believed the unbelievable. She had been prepared for it, by receiving her own miracle.
John preached repentance in the desert and people thronged to him. He prepared the way for Jesus’ ministry by exhorting people to repent and baptizing them. He baptized Jesus himself and was witness to the Spirit and voice proclaiming Jesus as the Beloved Son.
But for all his preparation, John was not without his doubts. At the end of his life, imprisoned by Herod for speaking truth and facing execution, he sends a message to Jesus: Are you the one? (Luke 7:18-31) The preparer is faltering, and Jesus reassures him, comforts him: “Go tell John what you have seen…Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.” He then names John to the crowd as the voice crying in the wilderness.
This is a season of preparation. I’ve scrubbed the house, set out all the decorations. I’m planning and purchasing gifts, and making cookies. Every evening in the stillness, we light a candle on the advent wreath for a few minutes. I have to ask myself, though, what am I preparing for? And is this the right kind of preparation? The bustle and scurry can make me crazy and unkind and impatient. Instead of preparing my heart, I’m preparing my house. It is not without good reason, I want to create a place of warmth and welcome for my family. I want to point to Christmas as the prologue of the best story. I want to make straight in the desert of chaos a highway to my God.
But that’s not the point, is it? Shouldn’t I be making straight a highway FOR my God? Because He is coming to me, not the other way around. The time of preparation should be of contemplation, reflection, and repentance.
He is coming again. It is so easy to forget that in the distraction of everyday life.
Lord, help me prepare the way for you.
Handel sets this text in a very straight forward recitative. Generally this kind of recit would be set with just basso continuo, or harpsichord and cello. Handel heightens the declamatory effect by using the full orchestra, adding to the importance of what the voice has to say. This is a directive to get ready, and ends with a very strong cadence – the use of the dominant-tonic relationship – which I teach my students is the “The End” or authentic cadence. It’s the “no arguing” or “we are done” cadence. Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. The. End.
Part 1: Scene i, no. 2 Recitative: Isaiah 40: 1-2a
“Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned”
The opening recitative in Messiah begins slowly and quietly, following a predictable thrumming chordal pattern in the key of E major. The tenor floats in the text “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people” and then declaims “saith your God.”
Many baroque and renaissance composers employed a technique called word-painting, or making the music sound like what the text means. While technically this is probably not word-painting, I can’t imagine a more comforting three notes – “Comfort ye”- almost like a sigh of relief – echoed immediately as if from heaven by the high strings. Handel uses a descending minor third which is also the same interval universally used by mothers to call their children in for dinner. There is not much more comforting than being called home by someone who loves you in that sing-song manner. I don’t know if that was Handel’s intention, but it works.
Handel moves into the next section “speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem” using another technique called sequencing – repeating the same music and text up a step, reassuring the listener. Then we hear an echo of the “comfort ye” motive followed by the tenor leaping an octave to “cry unto her” that her warfare is accomplished. The only strong dissonance we hear is when the tritone, the most dreaded of dissonances, is heard on the word “iniquity” and immediately resolves into a major chord on “pardoned.” Handel uses the augmented fourth to move us forward gently to a new place, out of sin and into redemption, and the key of B major.
So blah, blah, blah, music teacher. Honestly, when I listen to this, those are not the things I hear. What I hear is a piece of immense comfort which is exactly what Handel intended. This piece rarely fails to move me. It’s simplicity, poignancy, and musical beauty sets the great prophecy of Isaiah in such a way that I cannot help but hear the music when I read the text.
The slowness and deliberate pace of accompaniment – repeated eighth notes almost continuously – settles my anxious heart into a steady rhythm, requiring me to adapt to the music. This is something that text alone cannot do, no matter its meter.
Especially in this year of chaos, I need to hear this music. I need to be comforted and told that everything will be all right. I need my heartbeat to be steadied, and my breath sighed out. My iniquity is pardoned. So saith my God.
