Messiah for the Masses

It may be a gray and rainy Tuesday – with scarcely a hint of Christmas in the air – but I find myself still riding a wave of euphoria from Sunday night’s 11th annual Messiah Sing Along at Kenosha’s First United Methodist Church.  It was an exciting and  moving night in so many ways …. not least of which because it was perhaps the best attended Sing Along we’ve ever had.  (For sure it was a bit bigger than last year’s 10th Annual Sing Along,  which in and of itself is cause for rejoicing.)  But there were other ways in which this was an extra special performance.  One of the most important reasons was that Fine Arts Coordinator Jessica DeBoer assembled an especially accomplished orchestra- but as important to me as their great skill was their great patience and graciousness with me.  I’m not exactly Arturo Toscanini on the podium – I’m a voice teacher by trade, with scant training or know-how in conducting an orchestra –  but they gave the distinct impression of not minding one bit,  and managed (even with someone like me leading them) to deliver a performance that was truly inspiring.  Our quartet of soloists – Jennifer Hansen,  Libbi Weisinger, Nick Huff, and Mike Anderle-  responded in kind with performances that were about as fine as each of them could have possibly delivered.   (And as their former voice teacher,  I took special pride in how splendidly both Nick and Mike sang.)

I was also so happy to have on hand some alums from Carthage’s Lincoln Chamber Singers – known as Musici Amici (“Musical Friends”) – to sing a prelude as well as the chorus “Since by man came death.”  Having Agnes Wojnicki, Becky Ryan,  Katie Kelso, Alissa Turner, Beth Story, Matt Story, Jason Aaron, Andrew Johnson,  Justin Maurer and Michael McDonnell on hand made a great night even better.

And I’m quite sure that we have never had such a fine Singing Audience as we did on this occasion.  What a joy to look out and see the smiling faces of former voice students Jason Martin and Daryle Sturino or Racine Theater Guild friend Matthew Hoye or retired Tremper band director Jim Furchow or UW-Milwaukee blue ribbon tenor Justin Baker or Holy Communion senior choir members Dave Krueger and Gary Wee – just to name some of the guys who I noticed because they were sitting right up front, right where the action was.  (But believe me, we had some terrific sopranos and altos there as well.)

And on a personal note,  I was so happy that also in the audience was my dad and his wife Sonja, experiencing their very first Sing Along Messiah.  And Kathy, who had been in Madison earlier in the day for the college graduation of our goddaughter Anneka,  rushed back to be at as much of Messiah as she could, which I found really touching.

There were several moments during Sunday night’s performance when I found myself flashing back to my earliest encounters with Handel’s masterpiece….

The Atlantic High School Choir under Delma Wright always sang the Hallelujah Chorus as the finale for our biggest choral concert of the year – and I can remember as a sophomore looking with wonder as seniors Dwight Williams and Mark Johnson sang that piece without glancing even once at the score … from the very first rehearsal.  I remember thinking how cool it would be to know that piece of music that well – and of course, it wasn’t too long before I did.

My high school voice teacher,  Cherie Carl,  wanted Amy Nichols and I to each sing Messiah solos on the joint recital we presented shortly after graduating from high school – and as I recall, she left the specific choice up to us.  Amy wisely chose “I know that my Redeemer liveth” – but amazingly, I chose “O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion” …. which is one of the alto solos!   There was just something about it that I really liked.  Call it Alto Envy.  (At least I sang it in my own octave.)

I also remember around the same time attending a complete performance of Messiah in which my mom played cello and my brother Steve the violin.  I no longer remember the name of that community orchestra (it wasn’t right in Atlantic, where we lived) nor very much about the specifics of the performance – but I do remember being blown away by this work’s length and complexity (and I’m sure they didn’t even do the whole thing)  and the warm-hearted appreciation of the audience for a job admirably done.

Of course,  my most significant and far-reaching introduction to Handel’s Messiah came when I went to Luther College,  which presented the oratorio each and every December.  (Back in those days, there was no razzle-dazzle Christmas concert like there is now.)   My sophomore and senior years,  I was privileged to be one of the soloists – my freshman and junior years, I was equally privileged to be part of the chorus …. which numbered just under 1000 singers.

Yes, you read that right.  The chorus for Messiah essentially filled the bleachers of the Luther field house- and the sound generated by that kind of group was truly astounding.   What is even more astounding to me, however,  is how fleet-footed and lively those performances were.   Weston Noble was the kind of genius who could whip up a chorus of 1000 people to sing with the grace and lightness of a small madrigal group-  or at least come close.  When I listen to the recording from my senior year,  I am delighted by the lively tempos he chooses- and surprised by how tight and precise the sense of ensemble is.  Of course, there were rehearsals for the chorus –  Monday night rehearsals that went on for at least a couple of months,  but there were always plenty of people who sort of slipped in at the last minute …. including a few intrepid souls who never rehearsed even once but would show up to sing.  (Sometimes alumni would even sneak into the chorus for old time’s sake.  When you’re talking about a group that large, there was no way – and no reason – to tightly police such matters.)  But even so, the singing of that throng was amazingly tight and precise.  And how amazing is it that from a student body of approximately 2000 student,  nearly half would want to be part of the Messiah?

My freshman year in the chorus,  I remember being thrilled out of my mind to be part of something so spectacular.  I also remember looking down at the soloists with equal parts admiration and envy.  I especially remember a tall, statuesque soprano named Karen Jacobsen who sang “I know that my Redeemer Liveth” with such authority – and a somewhat diminutive baritone named Mike Matson whose beautiful voice was anything but diminutive, especially as he unleashed it in “The Trumpet Shall Sound.” It was the best thing in the world for my classmates and I to see these sterling upperclassmen in action because it gave us something for which to strive – and I was thrilled the next year to be among the soloists, wearing tails for the first time in my life.

Some of you already know the story of how my Messiah audition did not go well my junior year (in part because I foolishly chose to sing “The Trumpet Shall Sound” for my audition, even though “But who may abide” was a much better aria for me)  and I missed the cut – a devastating and humiliating reversal for me. (In the moment, I felt like I had suffered a unique sort of blow that no one else had ever experienced before.  Of course, I was very wrong about that.)   I suppose for fifteen seconds or so I thought about bypassing that year’s Messiah altogether out of sheer embarrassment-  but was somehow smart enough to know that I would have regretted for the rest of my life doing something so foolish.  So I pasted a smile on my face and attended chorus rehearsals just as I had done as a freshman- and found tremendous comfort and joy just in singing these magnificent choruses again.  And of course, by this point I knew what I was doing a whole lot more than two years earlier- and in various rehearsals,  Mr. Noble often called on me (among others)  to model certain phrases for the rest of the chorus (usually the concept of “inner pulse.”) It felt great to be useful.   But Mr. Noble saved the best moment for the dress rehearsal in the Field House.  When it became time for the mass choir (and soloists) to sing the Amen Chorus, which brings the whole work to a close,  he called on little old me from the chorus to sing the first line – all by myself – as though people needed a reminder of how that first phrase went. (Yeah, right.)  I was completely flabbergasted (he gave me no warning whatsoever) but even in the moment I knew he was giving me a really special gift … a moment “in the soloists’ spotlight, as it were” … and there was some applause and whoops when I finished that made me feel valued and loved.  Then, as now,  I deeply appreciated his kind gesture.

In retrospect,   I wish I would have had no need for that kind of validation. I wish I would have had the maturity to take my setback in stride,  to keep it in perspective,  to have been mindful of several other singers in the very same boat,  and to have been more than content with taking my place with the masses.  Because the truth of the matter is that it is a privilege to be able to experience Handel’s Messiah, whether one is in the spotlight as a soloist, on the podium as conductor,  in the orchestra,  or part of the choir.   It is one of those scores that offers up such rich musical delights and pleasures – and after all of these decades,  I find myself loving it more and more.  7 years ago, while Mr. Noble was spending a year as conductor-in- residence at Carthage,  I invited him to join me in the Sing Along Messiah to conduct the choruses …. and to see him on that podium, conducting this music with such freshness and vitality,  reminded me all over again that this score and this story are a whole lot bigger than any of us are – and that each of us represents just the tiniest speck in the vast throng who have sung and played this masterpiece over the last 270+ years.

Yet somehow, each of us matters.

A lot.

Pictured at the top:   A small portion of the mass choir singing Messiah my sophomore year.  Eagle-eyed Luther alums can probably spot some familiar faces.  I recognize Steve Demarest,  Jim Ripley, Paul Ohlrogge,  Jim LaBelle,  Paul Brown, Rollie Mains,  Tim Ness, David Ritland, Paul Clevan, John Rasmussen, Kent Mechler, just to name a few …. and right down front,  religion professors Simon Hansen and Harris Kaase.