The 'Hallelujah Chorus' from "Messiah"

This piece, much like the few before it, has transcended the 'I've heard this somewhere' label and has graduated to 'I've heard this everywhere.'  Unlike the few pieces before this one, however, this was not a case of a small-scale work becoming surprisingly adored.  No, George Frideric Handel's Messiah was beloved in its time, never suffered a dip in popularity, and continues to be performed nearly constantly (particularly around the holidays).  But, as always, the story behind the piece (and of the man himself) is too good to pass up, and so here we are today.

Handel, looking only slightly incredulous.

George Frideric Handel (almost regretfully, a man with only three names given at birth) was born in Halle, Germany in 1685.  1685 was a very good year for musical births, as Johann Sebastian Bach and Domenico Scarlatti were also born in that year.  George's father, aged 63 at the time of George's birth (and also named George, but because he was German, it was Georg for him), is the star of a probably apocryphal story involving George's early musical lack-of-training.  See, Georg wanted Junior to be a lawyer, and when he discovered his son's nascent musical talents, he banned all musical instruments from the Handel houshold (while we're on the subject of linguistic accuracy, George was actually born with an umlaut over the 'a' in Händel, giving a pronunciation more like 'hendel', which explains the international sometime-spelling of Haendel.  Whew).  Little Georg(e) was having none of this, of course, and had a clavichord smuggled into the attic of his house, where he could sneak off and practice when his family was asleep.  Clavichords are very quiet keyboard instruments used mostly for household practice and play, so that part of the story holds water, but there is still the question on how a child was able to a) obtain, and b) smuggle a clavichord into an attic.  It's a good story, though, and certainly adds to the mystique of the man, so I'll take it.

My-Size Clavichord, perfect for kids whose parents Just Don't Understand.

Handel did end up going to law school for a little while, but by 1703, he had a position at the Hamburg opera house, where his first two operas premiered in 1705.  In 1706, he traveled to Italy and learned all about Italian opera; but since opera was banned in the papal states (i.e. Italy) at the time, he composed Italian oratorios (more on this later) and sacred music while he was there.  1710 proved to be a red-letter year for young Georg (among other things, the final 'e' in his name was about to be appended); he became the Kappelmeister - literally meaning 'chapel master,' or someone in charge of all music-making in a certain church or court to Prince George, elector of Hanover and soon to be King George I of Great Britain.  In 1712, he decided to live in London permanently, and settled down for thirty years of near-uninterrupted musical and financial success.  He premiered Italian opera after Italian opera (and indeed, is said to be the one who brought Italian opera to England), worked in several opera companies, and culminated his operatic career with a position at Covent Garden.  Unfortunately, by the mid-1730s, English interest in Italian opera had begun to wane, and Handel's last Italian opera, Deidamia, premiered in 1741 to only three performances.

Luckily for him, however, he was about to strike musical gold.  In July of 1741, Charles Jennens wrote a letter to Handel (George by this time, having been adopted by the British as one of their own) mentioning a new libretto he had for an oratorio called Messiah.

At this point, I feel obligated to take a moment and explain the differences between opera and oratorio.  On paper, they are very similar pieces of performance art; both feature orchestral accompaniment, a chorus, and vocal soloists.  The difference - in theory at least - is in intent and subject matter.  An opera is a musical work written for the stage, while an oratorio is generally thought of as a concert work.  In terms of subject matter, operas tend to be mythological, historical, or literary, while oratorios tend to be based on sacred texts.  However, Handel's oratorios (particularly Samson) are often staged, and his oratorio Semele caused incredible consternation due to its basis on Greek myth.  If you are ever confused as to whether a work is an opera or oratorio, your best bet is to ask someone who has decided they know more about classical music than you and take their opinion as fact.  It works for me.

I can only guess (and dread) what this sounds like.

But yes.  Back to Messiah (this post is already dragging on as it is).  The music was written in a little over three weeks, which sounds incredible until the fact that that is generally the length of time Handel spent on his operas is taken into account.  That sounds even more incredible, until the fact that Handel often borrowed entire arias and choruses from earlier works is taken into account.  In an age of creative copyright and aspirations of originality, this sounds bizarre, but it was an often-used compositional technique, particularly for large, multi-movement works such as operas and oratorios.

Messiah was premiered in Dublin in 1742 to great acclaim, but when it premiered in London, receptions were decidedly more lukewarm.  Jennens himself was rather displeased, thinking that Handel's music did not do his libretto justice.  However, after a slow start, Messiah became a beloved piece of British music that has never left the repertory since.

A fun fact: the performanace of "Hallelujah" above is based off an arrangement done by none other than Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart in 1789 on commission from one Baron von Swieten.  Performances of Messiah got bigger and grander (one featuring a chorus of 2,000 and an orchestra of 500) until the twentieth century, when a revival in Baroque performance techniques led to an interest in hearing how it was performed at the time.

People do like things big, though, and so we can't always fault Andre Rieu - our conductor in the top video - for his excesses.

Further listening:

Like Handel, and also happiness?  Try "Happy We" from Acis and Galatea (performed by Les Arts Florissants, sung by Paul Agnew and Sophie Daneman): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ESKvWcTh4AE

Interested in Handel's Italian opera?  Try "Ciel e terra armi di sdegno" from Tamerlano (sung by Rolando Villazón): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8PnXEQKKp1U

Like Handel, and also really beautiful music?  Try "Un momento di contento" from Alcina (sung by Kobie van Rensburg): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrMHHGR_KR8

Yeah, I know.  I like Handel.  So should you.