<p>At Christmas and at <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tags/easter">Easter</a>, churches, the world over, resonate with the strains of the Messiah. The hurdles Handel surmounted through robust faith and unquenchable hope to write the oratorio is a saga well worth a repeat. </p>.<p>It was the bleakest phase of Handel’s life. Envious of his creative genius, society had turned against him, rivals even going to the extent of inciting hooligans to disrupt two operas with catcalls. The composer was almost in penury.</p>.<p>Just a few years before, a cerebral haemorrhage had crippled him, but the healing baths at Aix La Chapelle had miraculously helped him regain vigour, and he could flex his limbs yet again. </p><p>He produced four operas in quick succession, which brought him encomiums, but as luck would have it, Queen Caroline, an ardent patroness, died, and England, falling under the spell of a bitter-cold winter, saw performances cancelled as there were no means of heating theatres.</p>.<p>At this point in time, when Handel felt like a piece of human wreckage, he received a request for an oratorio from Charles Jennens, a mediocre but much-pampered poet. It intrigued him that Jennens had not asked for an opera. Perfunctorily, he skimmed through the pages Jennens had sent him. </p>.<p>“He was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief…” That struck a common chord. “…Come unto Him, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”</p>.<p>Handel worked at a furious pace, scribbling with his quill, pacing up and down the room, rushing to the harpsichord, flailing his arms and shouting “Hallelujah” as tears streamed down his cheeks. At the end of twenty-four days, the Messiah, completed, lay on his desk. Handel had set the Bible to music!</p>.<p>As London did not seem the ideal place for the first performance, Dublin was where the Messiah was first performed. So great was the demand <br>for tickets that to accommodate all, women were requested not to wear hoops and gentlemen to leave their swords behind!</p>.<p class="bodytext">On April 13, 1742, great was the crowd that gathered to hear <span class="italic">the Messiah</span> for the first time. The ovation was such that London invited him over. The monarch of England, George II, was so exhilarated on hearing the Hallelujah Chorus that he promptly rose to his feet, the audience following suit. And the custom of standing up for the <span class="italic">Hallelujah</span> chorus persists to this day.</p>.<p class="bodytext">On April 6, 1759, during a performance, when the choir sang, <span class="italic">The trumpet shall sound</span>, Handel felt faint and staggered. He expressed the wish that he die on Good Friday, and true to that, he passed on, leaving behind this imperishable legacy to the world of sacred music.</p>
<p>At Christmas and at <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tags/easter">Easter</a>, churches, the world over, resonate with the strains of the Messiah. The hurdles Handel surmounted through robust faith and unquenchable hope to write the oratorio is a saga well worth a repeat. </p>.<p>It was the bleakest phase of Handel’s life. Envious of his creative genius, society had turned against him, rivals even going to the extent of inciting hooligans to disrupt two operas with catcalls. The composer was almost in penury.</p>.<p>Just a few years before, a cerebral haemorrhage had crippled him, but the healing baths at Aix La Chapelle had miraculously helped him regain vigour, and he could flex his limbs yet again. </p><p>He produced four operas in quick succession, which brought him encomiums, but as luck would have it, Queen Caroline, an ardent patroness, died, and England, falling under the spell of a bitter-cold winter, saw performances cancelled as there were no means of heating theatres.</p>.<p>At this point in time, when Handel felt like a piece of human wreckage, he received a request for an oratorio from Charles Jennens, a mediocre but much-pampered poet. It intrigued him that Jennens had not asked for an opera. Perfunctorily, he skimmed through the pages Jennens had sent him. </p>.<p>“He was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief…” That struck a common chord. “…Come unto Him, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”</p>.<p>Handel worked at a furious pace, scribbling with his quill, pacing up and down the room, rushing to the harpsichord, flailing his arms and shouting “Hallelujah” as tears streamed down his cheeks. At the end of twenty-four days, the Messiah, completed, lay on his desk. Handel had set the Bible to music!</p>.<p>As London did not seem the ideal place for the first performance, Dublin was where the Messiah was first performed. So great was the demand <br>for tickets that to accommodate all, women were requested not to wear hoops and gentlemen to leave their swords behind!</p>.<p class="bodytext">On April 13, 1742, great was the crowd that gathered to hear <span class="italic">the Messiah</span> for the first time. The ovation was such that London invited him over. The monarch of England, George II, was so exhilarated on hearing the Hallelujah Chorus that he promptly rose to his feet, the audience following suit. And the custom of standing up for the <span class="italic">Hallelujah</span> chorus persists to this day.</p>.<p class="bodytext">On April 6, 1759, during a performance, when the choir sang, <span class="italic">The trumpet shall sound</span>, Handel felt faint and staggered. He expressed the wish that he die on Good Friday, and true to that, he passed on, leaving behind this imperishable legacy to the world of sacred music.</p>
