There exists only architecture in Sydney that contains the sheer physical presence necessary for an appropriately grand performance of Handel’s Messiah.
That building is St. Andrews Cathedral, an Anglican church located on George Street by the Victoria building in the central Sydney area. The oldest cathedral in Australia, St. Andrews presents visitors the finest example of the Gothic Revival architectural style. Towering high with structural magnificence shown in its buttressing, well-proportioned towers and decorated pinnacles, this edifice has come to be recognized as a centre for all kinds of Christian religious worship. Outside the front door sits a sign that proclaims a welcome to visitors in at least 15 different languages, and services are scheduled for different ethnic groups throughout the week. My attendance there on the Sunday morning church services yielded a surprise opportunity to participate in one of the most—if not the most, beautiful musical excursion in my lifetime.
Within the first two weeks of attendance, I had been personally invited to sing with the church choir for the cathedral’s annual performance of Handel’s Messiah. I had been walking demurely and indirectly about, trying to look like a new person when a lady (young on the middle-age range) came up to me and introduced herself. Her name was Irmgard—a German name, she told me. She was so friendly that she took me around and introduced me to different groups talking after the service, as we all partook of the morning tea (which tends to go extremely quick, I am starting to learn. Five minutes after the food comes out, it has been scraped off the platters). When she asked me if I liked or could sing, (to which I responded enthusiastically) she took me to see Ross, the church’s music director—a pleasantly plump man with a boyish innocence to his eyes, cordiality to his tone, and a slight absent-minded disarray to his manner stereotypical of “the musician”. I grew to regard Ross with great fondness over the following 5 weeks as we rehearsed the chorus bits of the Messiah in the upstairs room of the boys’ school behind the church on Monday evenings. He coached us with precision and humor. For example, the first Monday night, goofing off in the soprano row with Irmgard’s endearing 9-year old daughter Eliza (the whole family—the husband John, 12-year-old son Henri, Eliza, and Irmgard all went to practices to do it together, though the kids opted out for the final performance), I was jollied to hear him suggest that to get out the high notes of the song we were working on, we were all to imagine that our knockers were just humongous. Despite our laughter, it worked. Rehearsals were focused, while light-hearted. I could tell that the casual Australian way of doing things was at work here. No one put on airs; it was older ladies right next to young boys and girls and everyone was having fun. We obeyed Ross and paid attention, and he didn’t mind our giggles and whisperings to one another (which I’ll admit, for me was unfortunately frequent after having switched to the alto section. Irmgard and I could be a deadly combination, sometimes acting like little tittering schoolgirls…but our enthusiasm was such that we could not help literally bopping about during the singing part).
The final night: everyone dressed in white and black, besides the legitimate choir members, who were wearing their choir robes. All of us alto women (volunteers, not the official choir) begged for alto men to join us, to help us with our part. The Messiah is an extremely difficult choral piece—I may not have mentioned that thus far. Despite my coming to all the rehearsals but one, I still needed the benefit of alto voices around me, to stay on track especially for the tricky up-and-down sixteenth-note sections. And with the full choir around us (I was surprised to note that most of the sopranos were young boys, making the group almost 50% children), I could be easily distracted by other voices. In front of me splayed a sea of sopranos; on my left were the tenors, including several teenagers who could joke off a bit but who nevertheless had gorgeous voices to compensate; on my right were the bases, mostly older gentleman but also a few younger as well. Of course people were very relaxed even up to the dress rehearsal, which surprised me because usually in any performance in the States I have done, the director would be very particular and even uptight about getting all the little details right. Right before the performance we had a little time to practice, and all Ross had us do was sing the Hallelujah chorus, told us what we needed to emphasize, didn’t worry about doing it over, but told us how to process in and then we filed downstairs to wait around for twenty minutes before we started. Very informal. Yet, processing in, sitting down, watching Ross for cues, with full lighting and apparel, we became unified. I had never heard the entirety of Messiah performed before; there were a lot of solo pieces in between our large choral numbers. The place was packed with audience members; the sound resounded joyously, like a gong ringing deeply outwards in the wide, long space. I could feel the tremendous force of our voices together, blending and fusing and overlapping in harmonies of meditation and praise of our Lord, in my body and in the very air of the cathedral.
Handel estimated it would take a full year to compose the music –choral and instrumental—of Messiah. He wrote it in 24 days, in a state of clinical depression and during the rock bottom of his career. It was his last-ditch effort to create something after being met with numerous failures; and he did this as an act of charity, for a benefit concert. Now this music is known throughout the world for its beauty, proportion, transcendence, and humanity. Of the Hallelujah chorus, possibly the most famous piece in Messiah, Handel is said to have been found with tears flowing down his face after finishing the manuscript. I quote (and cannot help but agree with, in my own small way), the composer’s following words describing his experience: “I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God Himself.”
What else is there to be said? Hallelujah, for the Lord has come, is here, and will return in fuller glory than even Messiah can envision.
Kara Doriani
Eastern University
Sources:
http://www.wilmapaustralia.com.au/nsw/atts/standrews_cathedral.html
http://www.sydneyarchitecture.com/cbd/cbd3-002.htm
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