About to sing in yet another performance of the Christmas portion of George Fredrick Handel's Messiah, a profound oratorio often regarded as one of his greatest works. The famous Hallelujah Chorus usually results in the audience standing as a part of the tradition of the performance. The story goes at the first performance that the King was tired of sitting and stood when Hallelujah Chorus began which caused the entire audience to stand. I have played the French horn in 5 performances, conducted it 12 times, attended 8 performances, and am now singing in the choir for the first time.
Becoming convinced that Handel could not have composed the magnificent work in the rumored 28 days without a great deal of help, I went to the British Museum to study the manuscript. Several hours later, I determined that indeed one person had completed the manuscript and that person was Handel himself. It is certainly a masterpiece and deserves to be performed over and over across the world.
But why do the performers become "snobby" about it? Normal everyday nice musicians when asked to perform Messiah undergo a personality change. They get an odd facial expression with a stiff body language, and a marked entitlement persona. String players expect their chairs and stands to be in the precise spot for rehearsal and performance. They are paid musicians and want to see the contract that spells out all details correctly such as times, expenses, and expectations. Vocal soloists are placed in special chairs in front of the orchestra slightly to the side. When their solo comes, they lift their heads high and gently strut to the front for their diva moment. Their eyebrows rise a little, their mouths slightly altered and they appear to be constantly judging the tempos and the style. The arias in Messiah are truly wonderful and a great singer makes them even better. While their almost excessive arrogance is not a great characteristic, frankly I do not want to hear a soloist who is not confident. The aura around the soloist somehow makes the solo even better. To take it another step, being a musician is difficult and demands years of dedicated effort for high achievement. They need to display great pride and belief in their moment.
The Christmas portion of Messiah always ends with Hallelujah Chorus and the soloists are often asked to join the choir singing. But they generally do not want to do so. After all, they are the soloists. Sing with the choir? How mundane. Yet the excitement of the work usually carries forth to the soloists as well and they often find themselves singing in spite of their elitist preferences. Underneath the persona, they are just like the rest of us with normal emotional responses to great music.
The orchestra musicians demand their alloted breaks and expect to be treated as the professionals they are. While not quite as pretentious as the soloists often are, they have their own degree of elitism and pretension. It is as though an invisible snob fairy infects all people involved in Messiah and gives them an air of superiority by virtue of having the opportunity to perform the great work. I have experienced the same snob dust covering me when I have conducted it. Now as a choir member, I am feeling it again. I see the dust on every person involved and I like the dust. A shimmer of glitter and gold surrounds the musicians and why not? Great music performed by outstanding musicians...does it get better than that?
In my humorous criticism of elitism, of entitlement, of pretension, in a way I am comfortable with the attitude. After all, shouldn't we have occasional opportunities to be snobby, and what better time than performing a masterpiece of music, Handel's Messiah? Perhaps rather than criticize the elitism, we should embrace it. Sure, it is fleeting, temporary, and somewhat disingenuous, but why not? The music is glorious, the performers are amazing, the environment special. The music by Handel is inspired and deserves our very best. If that means we take a few hours to be lofty, bourgeoisie, refined, and classy, then it is worth our efforts.
To all of you Messiah snobs out there...keep up the great job. As for me and my house, we will join you in snobbery. Tomorrow, normal life. Today Messiah.
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