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San Francisco Symphony and San Francisco Symphony Chorus: Performing Handel's Messiah
At a time of year when nearly every merchant is pushing their wares on the American public in the grand spectacle of Christmas, it's difficult to find an oasis of sanity - a place where the meaning of the holiday hasn't been shoved aside in favor of bell ringing Santas, rehashed Muzak versions of tired carols, and grouchy, harried shoppers all trying to rush through their days.
But such an oasis can be found in the music of the San Francisco Symphony's version of Handel's Messiah, performed this year at the Flint Center on the campus of DeAnza College in Cupertino, California, about an hour south of San Francisco. Once we entered the hall, we felt the world of craziness drift away.
Previous performances of Messiah that I've heard have been high volume events with sopranos in the rafters and choruses blowing out the back doors. I was pleased to see that conductor Christopher Seaman had chosen a more reverent and controlled version of this widely interpreted piece.
 Handel wrote Messiah during the years of 1741-45, and performed it first to an indifferent London reception. The piece was revived, however, in 1749, and Handel continued to revise the piece significantly throughout the rest of his life. He lengthened, shortened, and removed many sections, and rewrote portions to match the voices of the local singers. After Handel's death in 1759, many composers have rewritten the score to suit the tastes of the time; some of the most famous revisions are Mozart's (1789) and Ebenezer Proust's (1902).
In the last 35 years, symphonies have been making attempts to return to Handel's spirit for the piece, though not always to the letter - or "note," as it were. Music writer Michael Steinberg says that "Two approaches to performing Messiah are available. You can reconstruct one of the forms in which it was actually given by Handel between 1742 and 1759 (or, for that matter, the 1741 score), or you can treat the score with its variants as a soft of kit from which to build an edition of your own. Like most modern conductors and editors, Mr. Seaman takes the latter, synthetic approach."
 Seaman is a magician, able to take 200 voices, several dozen strings, and four powerful soloists and make the setting feel like an intimate private concert, even like chamber music in some movements. By controlling the pace and volume precisely, he leads the listener through every delicate step, never forcing the music on the audience, but rather presenting it as a gift.
Each of the soloists seemed personally moved by the music, no one more so that soprano Danielle De Niese. The Australian-born singer captured the stage visually in a stunning lime green ball gown that set off her green eyes, but what shone most was her deep love of the music. Although the soloists play prominent roles in the performance, no one sings for any length of time or very many movements. By the end Ms. deNiese seemed to be enjoying the music so thoroughly that it seemed that she'd rather sing in the chorus next time around, just to get to participate more.
 Without question, the star of the show was the San Francisco Symphony Chorus. Their voices blended elegantly, yet each part could be heard individually, if you listened closely. That is, the singing was never muddied with searching for notes or rhythms. If you are searching for the audio representation of heavenly hosts, look no further.
Most people think of the high point of Messiah is the Hallelujah Chorus towards the end of Part Two. In fact, Mr. Seaman's delicate handling of the entire oratorio made a vibrant foil for this centerpiece, but it did not dominate. Quite the opposite. Because of the lovely interpretation of the rest of the piece, the Hallelujah Chorus shone as a spark in a sky of glittering sparkles.
There were only a few elements that detracted from the beauty of the performance. First, the ushers continued to seat latecomers well into the first movement of the first part, and they were chatty and noisy. Finally, they started holding other late comers until after the third movement, when Mr. Seaman waited. Once everyone was seated, he winked at the audience and went on with the performance.
Second, it seemed that baritone soloist William Stone was suffering from a head cold and forcing his voice beyond its capacity. We hope that Mr. Stone is taking care of his throat and has called for an understudy for subsequent performances.
If you're looking for an escape from the mad rush of the holidays, an afternoon or evening spent with Handel's Messiah is just the ticket.
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By Cymber Quinn, San Francisco Correspondent. Read Cymber's feature on "The Old Soul Violinist".
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Why Does the Audience Stand During the Hallelujah Chorus?
"The custom, religiously observed in the United States, of standing for the Hallelujah Chorus, was begun by King George II at one of the first London performances of Messiah. When the Kind stood, everyone had to stand. Robert Shaw has suggested that the King's rising was caused not by religious or musical emotion, but by his failure to realize how close the next intermission was. At the Handel commemoration of 1784, the then-reigning monarch, King George III, added something else to the Hallelujah Chorus which has not, however, become a tradition, and that is to give an encore of the great chorus. At the first Messiah performance at the festival, he requested the Earl of Sandwich to give the sign, but at the second, as we learn from Dr. Burney's account, 'his Majesty was pleased to make the sign himself, with a gentle motion of his right hand in which was the printed book of the words.' George Bernard Shaw wrote that the English custom of standing for the Hallelujah Chorus is the nearest sensation to the elevation of the Host known to English Protestants." - Michael Steinberg
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Editor's Notes: 2002-2003 marks Music Director Christopher Seaman's fifth season with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra. This internationally renowned British conductor has become an integral part of the RPO and the greater Rochester community. Making her operatic debut at the age of 15 in the Los Angeles Opera's production of Journey to Cordoba, and she is youngest vocal student ever to be accepted to the Tanglewood Young Artists Vocal Program. A distinguished concert artist, William Stone has performed with the major orchestras of North America and Europe in repertoire ranging from Bach, Beethoven, Brahms and Händel to Kirchner, Mahler, Mendelssohn, Orff and Takemitsu. Stone's long association with the Lyric Opera of Chicago began with his creation of the role of Adam in the world premiere of Penderecki's Paradise Lost and continued with the title role in Il Barbiere di Siviglia and as Schaunard in La Bohème.
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