George Frideric Handel_Dover Books on Music

by Paul Henry Lang

  No one in Handel’s time, or before, used choral counterpoint as freely and ingeniously as he, and the vigor and terseness of the musical diction in his choral music is still unsurpassed. Handel’s inner voice-parts are not “fillers”; usually they are worked out in the smallest detail, and often have considerable melodic value, but the severity of the cantor’s art is absent. Perhaps the most typical aspect of this choral music is what is so well expressed by the German term polyphonierende Homophonie, which cannot be rendered in English with the same compact precision.

  Handel’s choral writing has an astonishing range, from light madrigal to giant fugue. A good example of a feathery madrigalian piece is found in Semele (Example 25). The polyphony is almost finicky in its tiptoeing. Accustomed as we are to the splendors of the anthem style, we do not notice the intimate Handel, the finesse of his chamber-music-like intimacy, the tensions he can create and resolve without massive dynamics. Particularly attractive is his way of proceeding from homophony to polyphony and then back again. This can take the form of a quasi prelude and fugue, with a clear break between the two, or can be marked by a subtly graduated ebb and flow. Handel may wheel a fugue into position with magnificent poise and dignity, the basses intoning the theme like so many high priests, but as the other parts enter, everything formal and expected gradually disappears. The variety and flexibility of his choral idiom is unexampled and unsurpassed. It is especially here that his freedom from the fetters of the opera seria is most noticeable. These choruses can assume every form of vocal or instrumental music; among them are choral recitatives, ariosos, and arias, as well as combinations of all three. Here again we should single out Handel’s ability to create stunning effects with the simplest of means, for he knew that stillness can be awesome. Example 26, from Israel in Egypt, shows that choral recitative can have an almost graphic dramatic power. As a rule, the choral portions are accompanied by a ripieno orchestra, but seldom colla parte; the accompaniment can be of symphonic quality, with its own thematic material or utilizing elements from the vocal parts, or it can be imitative, and there are usually little interludes that are purely dramatic. At times a homophonic choral setting is accompanied by a linear texture or vice versa. The ritornels are often elaborate and significant. Perhaps the ultimate in dramatic power is achieved in the “Jealousy” chorus in Hercules, where a predominantly homophonic choral setting is combined with a sharply accentuated symphonic commentary in the orchestra. The entry of the chorus after a menacing ritornel is shattering, and Handel does not permit the feeling of apprehension to dissipate, for the rhythm of doom never departs from the orchestra (Example 27).

  Ex. 25 Semele

  Ex. 26 Israel in Egypt

  In the end one realizes that aside from Bach there was no contemporary who could match Handel in contrapuntal skill, but as in all other aspects of their art, the two great composers cannot be compared because their attitudes towards choral writing are diametrically opposed. Handel made his style deliberately light, freeing it from the scholasticism of formal counterpoint. Weighty ideas he could present with a simplicity that made them accessible to all. Perhaps the greatest difference between the two masters, however, is that the highest concentration and expressivity in Handel’s choral music is not in polyphony but in homophony. With him choral homophony is usually the peak that follows upon the polyphony. That Handel is so different from his German colleagues rests on two causes: his Italian experiences and his residence in England. Ever since the Middle Ages English music had been distinguished from that of the Continent by its marked preference for well-blended vocal sound. Later, with Dunstable’s gently rolling, soothing music, English composers influenced all of Europe, and it was for this reason that so euphonious a genre as the Italian madrigal found ready acceptance in England. Thus the German-born Handel, captivated while in Italy by the calm self-assured tone of Italian music, easily fell in step with the long-standing English tradition as exemplified by Purcell.

  Ex. 27 Hercules

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  IT WILL BE remembered that the Beggar pointedly informed his audience that he avoided the “unnatural ... for I have no Recitative.” The distinguishing feature of the English “semi-opera” was the absence of recitatives and their replacement by spoken dialogue. The same procedure was followed by the German Singspiel all the way through the 19th century. Since recitatives were the carriers of the action and narration in Italian opera, Handel was faced with a dilemma when he turned to the English music drama. It was generally recognized—Burney deals with the question in some detail—that every nation found it difficult to come to terms with the Italian-born recitative, whose superiority was acknowledged even by Quantz and Mattheson. Many of the French partisans of Italian opera also held this view. On the English scene, Evelyn perceived this very early, commenting on it in 1667 when he heard an Italian singer perform excerpts from an opera: “The words I did not understand, so I know not how they are fitted, but I believe very well, and all in the Recitativo very fine. But I perceive there is a proper accent in every country’s discourse, and that their setting of notes to words, therefore, cannot be natural to any body else but them.” Addison, with his usual critical sharpness, extended Evelyn’s brief remarks into a little essay (Spectator, April 3, 1711), reaching the conclusion that “an English composer should not follow the Italian Recitatives too servilely, but make use of many gentle Deviations from it in Compliance with his own Native Language.”139 These ideas were shared in other countries. That the Germans considered the music of recitative inseparable from the text is well demonstrated by their practice of dealing with it. When an Italian opera was performed in Germany (a number of Handel’s operas were produced there, most often in Hamburg), the arias were equipped with a German text but otherwise not changed. The recitatives, however, were newly composed, the work devolving on such eminent masters as Keiser, Telemann, and Mattheson.

  The difference between recitatives in the various national musical literatures rests not only on the genius of the language, but also on what species of speech served for the point of departure. In Italy composers set to music a manner of speaking that did not differ from everyday popular usage even when in a poetic vein, but the French tragédie lyrique patterned its recitative on the highly cultivated and somewhat frosty speech of the spoken drama as presented in the Comédie Française. Handel’s Italian recitatives follow the normal practice, which, as various contemporary sources agree, was close to “natural speech.” He had already learned something about recitative in Hamburg. Keiser, in the preface to his Componimenti musicali (1706), warns that a good recitative is as much a “headache” for the composer as an aria. Handel’s secco recitatives in the oratorios satisfied the demands of the adherents of the doctrine of imitation by approximating natural speech, but he also gave his recitative distinctly musical values. The resultant English recitative thoroughly corresponded to the genius of the language, yet the controversy about the feasibility of recitative in any language but Italian continued. Burney himself, who endorsed Italian recitative, was inclined to favor spoken dia-logue in English works: “There is no recitative except the Italian which is fit for dramatic purposes.” John Brown rejected recitative altogether.140

  There is little to add to the discussion of Handel’s Italian recitatives. When his operas are sung by Italian singers, the unbarred and free delivery, which is its essential feature, comes through naturally. Excited Italians, then as now, sing rapidly but with good diction. Not so in the oratorios, where the solemn, churchly delivery we usually hear is entirely out of style and character. If, in addition, the secco is accompanied by the organ instead of the harpsichord, the distortion is complete. There is no such thing as a “sacred recitative”; whether in oratorio or opera, the singer is given the pitch, after which he is left alone to deal with his lines freely, though observing a natural speech cadence. The barline is largely irrelevant, and the harpsichordist must never attempt to control the singer’s pace.141 Handel could be perfunc
tory, but he usually followed the requirements of the text, carefully planning his modulations and keeping the harmony moving to avoid the sort of turgidity our singers create artificially. In his earlier works he observed the rather sharp distinction between recitative and aria prevalent in the old opera, but later he eliminated this distinction more and more, making for a more fluent and continuous musical texture. The change was achieved partly by the use of transitional types, arioso-like recitatives (also favored by Bach), but the chief agent in eliminating the sharp contrast was the so-called accompanied recitative.

  The accompanied recitative (also called recitativo stromentato) was already present in the Venetian opera of the 17th century. Scarlatti used it, though with a certain discretion, but with Vinci, Hasse, and notably Handel, it became the chief means to depict the transports of passion, crises, and violent dramatic moments. This type of composition, which Rousseau called récitatif accompagné pathétique, shows the dramatist at his peak; in this respect, Handel has been forgotten where most he should have been remembered. The vehemence of such recitatives as Jupiter’s oath in Semele (Example 28) is matched by the tragic intensity of Saul’s confrontation with the ghost of Samuel (Example 29). At times Handel inserts secco passages within the accompagnato with startling results. This kind of music, though impressive and telling when sung in concert performances, would be far more effective on the stage, for it is theatre music par excellence.

  Ex. 28 Semele

  Recitative and aria may represent a polarity, but they surely have a complementary function. Handel was well acquainted with the aria types even before he went to Italy. The da capo aria and the motto aria he knew from Keiser; he used them in his very first opera, Almira, as he did the continuo aria and the various dance pieces. The old Venetian aria was still flourishing, not yet displaced by the Neapolitan, when Handel was in Italy. He remained fond of it, adding various improvements, because the Venetian aria permitted a greater variety of structures than the Neapolitan. The mainstay was of course the da capo aria, which modern dramaturgy has belabored with surprising contempt (though we have never heard a dissenting voice when the device is used in Bach’s cantatas and Passions). Of the innate artistic difficulty of this particular form composers were aware—witness the various operatic “reforms.” Handel, like most of his confrères, did not find the principle inhibiting, and though in the oratorios the da capo aria was gradually displaced, he by no means abandoned it. Finding many ways of avoiding literal repetition, he never ceases to surprise us. His Italian colleagues could not match his skill in finding ever new ways to cope with the problem; they were wary of the countersubjects and themes Handel threw into the accompaniment, and would not engage in his bold modulatory scheme. Later, especially in the oratorios, he may begin the introductory recitative in a totally unrelated key, abruptly modulating in the aria, the rhythm shifting, so that the return of the original first section, even if unchanged, is welcome as a sort of resolution. While of course every aria requires individual attention for performance, we do possess a few in which Handel wrote out the da capo, adding embellishments and changes, or made an abbreviated reprise; they give us guidance that Handel’s earlier editors largely ignored.

  Ex. 29 Saul

  There were other means to make da capo arias attractively varied. Of particular interest is the so-called concerted aria, equipped with an accompaniment whose thematic substance is freely superimposed on the vocal melody instead of following it. This is an important characteristic of late Baroque dramatic music, both sacred and secular, and became one of the chief sources of the future symphonic idiom. It was as much liked by Handel and his contemporaries as it was naturally made for an imaginative composer. The concerted aria has various forms. It may actually assume the role of the concerto by treating a solo instrument in that manner, as in the brilliant trumpet arias that were so popular in Italy. Handel could write a concerted aria with a markedly virtuoso part for a solo instrument, as for instance, in Caesar’s aria “Va tacito,” in Giulio Cesare. Any modern horn player would blanch at seeing this part, yet the solo really enhances the vigor of the vocal part. Bach was particularly fond of this type, using oboe, violin, gamba, and the various d‘amore and da caccia varieties of instruments. Such a concerted part may be based on the vocal melody itself and held to its style, in which case it usually takes the form of contrapuntal imitation and elaboration of portions of the vocal melody, thereby enhancing the latter’s expressivity. Especially in the later oratorios Handel was partial to a type of concerted accompaniment that is not only altogether original but independent of the vocal part, only the harmonic scheme being common to both. A well-known instance can be found in Messiah (Example 30). This concerted accompaniment can be so independent that it is a veritable piece in its own right, self-sufficient even without the voice. This calls for a particularly refined balance of musical content, otherwise the raison d’être of the aria is in question. Undoubtedly many an aria with an obbligato concertante instrumental part was first sketched, or even composed, before the vocal part had taken shape; hence our impression that the voice is trying to make peace with the instruments. Bach, enamored of this species, occasionally permitted his imagination to run away with the accompaniment to the detriment of the vocal part. The Laudamus te in the B minor Mass is virtually a little violin concerto, worked out with minute care and obvious relish, but the voice part is slighted and the piece could be played by the instruments alone; so true is this that the uninitiated would never miss the vocal part. Handel prized the concerted aria and showed great versatility in its use, but the voice never loses its primacy. It must have been for this reason that he composed few arias with a solo concertante instrument sharing the honors with the singer; he preferred to use the orchestra as a unit.

  Ex. 30 Messiah

  Among the arias are many whose orchestral part exhibits a developed symphonic feeling quite extraordinary in the first half of the century (Example 31). Another notable feature of Handel’s arias is the quality of the prelude-ritornels. Some are brief, but often they are quite elaborate, in themselves little da capo structures utilizing the thematic substance of the aria they preface. Sometimes they merely set the mood, but as a rule they have an important formal role, framing, as it were, the aria or chorus. Though every one is familiar with it, we cite the opening ritornel to the first recitative in Messiah. In four measures Handel admirably creates a mood sketch that determines the tone of the whole piece that follows (Example 32). Other remarkable instances have already been cited in Examples 3, 16, and 22.

  Ex. 31 Theodora

  Ex. 32 Messiah

  To us the typified arias of the Baroque seem a little ridiculous: plaint, rage, jealousy, slumber, awakening, ghost, and battle arias were well standardized types which Handel, together with all other composers, accepted and used. They were stylized, as was the decor. Yet, though systematized, the variety the stylization permitted was great, and the character of such pieces was determined by tempo, time signature, tonality, rhythm, and so on—all musical criteria. A largo aria was quite different from a tempo ordinario (or giusto) aria, even if both dealt with jealousy. Those in dance rhythms were also well distinguished from one another, and one must beware of taking them for dance pieces pure and simple. They follow the rhythmic pattern of the dance form, but a minuet-aria can be profoundly tragic, while the gigue rhythm is used for arias that are anything but jolly. The siciliana in particular furnishes a good example. Handel usually sets it as a pastoral piece, but it can be highly dramatic or pathetic. Handel’s aria technique developed steadily, though some of his most admirable melodies are present in his earliest operas and cantatas. A pure, transfigured lyricism appears in his old age, for the old poet may be more communicative than the young, he can no longer conceal his heart. The autumnal charm of declining years is more refined, more complicated, it reacts more subtly to stimuli.

  The often noticeable difference between the oratorio arias and the opera arias is not to be att
ributed to the “sacred” character of the former. This is an oversimplification, as is the “lowering of vocal standards,” which even Hawkins seems to accept. It goes without saying that there had to be a certain difference between oratorio and opera arias; the former were in English and sung by English singers, no match for the castratos and Italian prima donnas. Yet while the English arias are far more varied in construction, they still remain Italian in their euphony and vocal requirements—we observe a corresponding case in The Magic Flute. The songs of Galatea or Semele, Jove or Solomon, and indeed, all the arias in Messiah still call for exquisite singing of full operatic calibre, which few of the specialized oratorio singers of today can furnish.

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  THE Age of Reason rejected ensembles as being “irrational”; Rousseau still has some amusing nonsense to say about them. Furthermore, the old aristocratic opera, reflecting court etiquette, frowned upon the bad manners of several persons speaking when a noble figure delivered himself of a speech. But the Italians did not read philosophy or tracts on etiquette when they composed, and eventually they discovered that the dramatic possibilities of ensembles and finales enabled them to infuse some movement into the frozen majesty of the seria. They especially delighted in mocking the tradition of undisturbed soliloquies with the rapid ejaculations and asides in their ensembles. Handel’s role in this development is far more significant than operatic history would grant him. It must be assumed that he arrived at the idea largely through his own dramatic logic; the dates support this contention.