George Frederick Handel

(1685–1759)

T HE path of musical history is littered with the wrecks of reputations won during the lifetime of their owners; these unfortunates have, for the most part exchanged the esteem of their fellowmen for oblivion and the neglect of an unsympathetic posterity. Without in any way denying the respective merits of Handel, Haydn or Mendelssohn it is a little difficult for us in the twentieth century to understand the intense enthusiasm of our ancestors for their music. For us the first half of the eighteenth century, when Handel flourished, is the age of Bach, the second half of the same century, when Haydn dominated the scene, the age of Mozart; similarly Mendelssohn has been displaced by Schumann. Bach was regarded by his contemporaries as a fine organist, but otherwise rather a dull pedant; Mozart was relegated to a pauper's grave; Schumann, it is true, succeeded in winning a certain measure of esteem from his contemporaries but he was generally misunderstood.

Popular success is most certainly written largely on the wall as a warning to composers. We have only to consider what qualities in music will ensure its immediate acceptance and final rejection; it need not be meretricious or vulgar, but must exhibit in full the idiosyncracies of the age for which it is intended. The music of the greatest composers, on the other hand, is written with ruthless disregard for any dictates of fashion; it is in every sense for all time except perhaps for the times in which it is written. Any conscious concession to popular taste, be it ever so slight, involves a sacrifice of self-respect on the part of the composer. We must therefore approach Handel with a proper realization of his great limitations; his obvious faults must not however be allowed to obscure those solid virtues in his music, which will always ensure him a place among the greater composers.

Handel was born at Halle in Saxony in 1685, in the same year as J. S. Bach and Domenico Scarlatti. He encountered the usual opposition from his parents to the adoption of a musical career, but succeeded in practising on a spinet in the garret of the house, unknown to his father. When on a visit to Weissenfels with his father he was allowed to play the organ in the chapel and attracted the notice of the reigning duke who persuaded the father to allow his son's talents to follow their proper bent. After three years hard work under Zachau, the organist at Halle, Handel went to Berlin where he met his future rival Buononcini, but soon returned to Halle. After the death of his father he went to Hamburg, where he played violin in the orchestra in the opera house under Keiser and later the harpsichord. Here Handel's first operas were performed. In 1706 Handel went on a visit to Italy, the musical Mecca of those days, where some of his music was performed.

In 1709 Handel became Capellmeister to the Elector of Hanover, who later became George I, King of England, and in 1710 and 1712 he paid visits to England where his opera "Rinaldo" was given. Handel outstayed his leave, and on the accession of his master as King of England he remained in disgrace, until he had propitiated the king's resentment by the performance of the famous water music. The rest of his life was spent in this country with the exception of the years 1716–1718 when he was in Hanover with the king. Handel's first post on his return was that of organist and composer to the Duke of Chandos at Cannons, near Edgware, where the Chandos anthems and "Te Deums" were written.

In 1720 he accepted the post of director of the Italian opera. Then followed years of the cabal, intrigue, scheming and plotting, inseparable from operatic enterprise, culminating in the famous rivalry with Buononcini who was put up by a faction in opposition to Handel. Finally in 1737 Handel became bankrupt and his health giving way, he was forced to go abroad to recover. He was soon back in England again and after a few more years of unsuccessful operatic productions, he settled down in 1740 to write the great series of oratorios with which his name is inseparable. The first performance of "The Messiah" which was composed in twenty-four days, took place in Dublin in 1742, and it was immediately accorded a position in public esteem which it succeeded in maintaining all through the nineteenth century. A second bankruptcy, engineered by his old enimies of the rival operatic faction, took place in 1744, but only stemmed the tide of composition for some eighteen months, and the succession of oratorios continued until 1752, when the composer was smitten with blindness. He lingered on until 1759, dying in Brook Street, London, and was accorded burial in Westminster Abbey by his adopted fellow-countrymen.

During his lifetime Handel attained a general popularity almost without parallel in musical history; he was for years one of the public characters of London and is the only composer who was honoured during his lifetime by the erection of a statue. A man of high integrity and uncompromising honesty, he had, nevertheless, an uncontrollable temper which was bound to lead to numerous enmities. After his death he became almost an object of adulation in England and his music the one standard by which every novelty was tested.

We must not expect to find any striking innovations of form or harmony in Handel's music; he did not initiate or do much to advance the technique of music in any way. He refined and improved the stock material, which was the common property of every composer during the previous hundred years, until it became in his hands, superficially at least, a perfect thing. Handel was a consummate craftsman rather than a great artist, a Cellini rather than a Donatello. Our admiration for the workmanship in his music must not however blind us to the poverty of the substance. It is easy to appreciate the feelings of those, who heard for the first time the familiar thing supremely well done, and to justify on this ground alone the lack of originality, the wealth of mannerism and the well worn clichés which characterize the bulk of Handel's music; but these shortcomings inevitably detract from its value and render it wearisome and insipid to ears ignorant of those crude ill fashioned prototypes, from which the music derives.

To appreciate Handel's music to the full, we must browse on the musically arid waste of the later sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries; we need only compare a Corelli violin sonata with its Handel counterpart. In style there is very little difference, in construction there is no comparison: the Corelli sonata is amorphous, full of ill-concealed joins, pointless cadences and other characteristics of a primitive state. The Handel sonata on the other hand is beautifully put together, admirably polished with suave instead of angular melodies—the very embodiment of the classical perfection of that day.

To see the other side of the picture and to realize Handel's weakness, we need only contrast his music with that of his great contemporary, John Sebastian Bach. Bach certainly drew largely on the work of his immediate predecessors, but he added so much from his own store that the finished product bears only a superficial resemblance to its pattern. The deep intensity of feeling, with which Bach's treatment of the Passion is impregnated, throws into high relief the superficial solemnities of Handel's setting of the same subject in "The Messiah". The cold formalities of Handel's harpsichord suites are in striking contrast to the romantic beauties and harmonic experiments of "The Forty-eight". The long delayed recognition of Bach's greatness influenced the whole course of musical history; the artificial worship of Handel, fostered at first by the conservatism of polite society, and subsequently by that form of wholly irrelevant religious feeling, which found expression in the oratorio, retarded the renaissance of English music by at least one hundred years, after giving a final coup de grace to the decaying native school of music, which had produced Byrd and later Purcell.

Handel's music at its best resembles massive architecture, formal in design but large in conception; its effect is similar to the effect on the eye of the Palace of Versailles—grand in its simplicity, harmonious, restful, but not stimulating or inspiring. Handel has all the virtues of the classic; his music is too perfect to be really exciting, but his ideals are too low to make this perfection wholly satisfying. The simplicity of his style is very refreshing at times—one appreciates the absence of any vulgar baroque—moreover his music is very grateful to perform, and on it were fostered a long and distinguished line of oratorio singers. It is also remarkable for its appeal to those who take an intellectual pleasure in music; among Handel's many admirers, eminent in the world of letters and philosophy, are to be found men like Samuel Butler, whose interest in music is otherwise negligible. The absence however of any real emotion in Handel's music, due no doubt largely to the conditions under which the composer worked, limits its interest for the audiences of to-day. Handel lived in times when music was a trade, and inspiration a mere incidental in composition, when emotion, other than a vague sentimentality, was severely discouraged.

Handel's genius lay in purveying the kind of music, which the polite world of his day demanded; when opera was popular, he composed operas; when enthusiasm for opera had expended itself, he provided oratorios. He put at the disposal of his admirers all the rich and varied experiences of his cosmopolitan existence. He was not ashamed to borrow without acknowledgment, or even to steal, in the interests of his clients, though in partial justification it must be said that he usually improved upon his originals, and maintained a high standard of artistic excellence throughout. There is much to admire in clever workmanship, but it can never rank beside creative genius. Handel at any rate towers above the mediocrity of his environment, even if we cannot admit the claim of his admirers and accord him a place beside his great contemporary, John Sebastian Bach.

SYLLABUS

1. SET BOOKS:

(1) Studies of the Great Composers, pp. 22-59, by Sir Hubert Parry. (Routledge).

(2) The Master of the Musicians (a story of Handel's day), by Mrs. Emma Marshall. (Seeley).

2. MUSIC:

(1) "The Harmonious Blacksmith" (Augener. 6d.)

(2) Prelude, Air and Variations: from "Three Lessons" (Augener. No. 5095. 2s. 6d.)

(3) Violin Sonata in F. (Augener. No. 7502. 3s.)

(4) (a) "He shall feed His Flock" (Messiah). 1s.

(b) "Ombra ma fui" (Serse). 1s. 6d. Both in Augener's Edition.

(5) Concerto Grosso in D minor: miniature score, (Payne's 273. 1s. 6d.), or, arranged for pianoforte duet (Peters. No. 2695a. 2s. 6d.)

3. GRAMOPHONE RECORDS:

(a) "The Harmonious Blacksmith" (harpsichord). H.M.V.—D. 645. 6s. 6d.

(b) "He shall Feed His Flock" and "Ombra ma fui." H.M.V.—D.B. 506. 8s. 6d.

(d) Violin Sonata in D major. H.M.V.—E. 279 and 280. Each 4s. 6d.

Considering the indefatigable industry of the composer comparatively little of Handel's music is heard to-day, and that little is limited to a small range of works. "The Messiah" occupies a peculiar position in the affections of the English people and is likely to maintain it so long as choral singing remains the peculiar glory of our country; the other oratorios are now generally neglected. The operas have long since passed from the current repertoire, though isolated arias are often heard at concerts. The violin solo and duet sonatas enjoy a widespread popularity, especially by reason of the fact that they make no excessive demands on the limited technique of the amateur. The term's syllabus has chiefly to rely on Handel's instrumental music which, though it does not represent the composer at his best, gives a very good general idea of his style and methods. Handel's keyboard music was written for the harpsichord, an obsolete instrument which, while incapable of the sustained tone of the modern pianoforte, possesses a peculiar technique of its own; on the pianoforte Handel's music is therefore heard at considerably less advantage than on the instrument for which it was written. Vocal music is Handel's most notable contribution to the music of the world: as it was largely written for the greatest singers of the age, it makes technical demands which the ordinary singer can hardly satisfy. Full use should therefore be made of the many excellent gramophone records available which cannot be specified here in detail for want of space.

(1) "The Harmonious Blacksmith": Those who possess gramophones should study this work with the aid of Mrs. Gordon Woodhouse's harpsichord record (H.M.V. D. 645): for others an adaptation for pianoforte is provided. The origin of the air and its mysterious title are fully discussed in the standard authorities and need not be recapitulated here. Suffice it to say that the popular story of the blacksmith of Edgware was invented long after the composer's death and is now held to be as apocryphal as that connected with the C sharp minor sonata of Beethoven. These variations form the last movement of the Fifth suite of a collection styled "Suites de Pièces pour le Clavecin", published in 1720 and composed by Handel for the daughters of the Prince of Wales, to whom at the time he was giving instruction.

The tune is a very beautiful one: its grave dignity and austere charm are typical of the composer at his best. The variations, originally called by the old English term "Doubles", are of the decorative variety, and the main theme is never far distant. It is difficult to believe that they were written in the same century as Bach's great "Goldberg" variations, which are just as modern in feeling as Handel's are archaic. Note that the first four variations go in pairs, the characteristic semiquaver and triplet figures appearing first in the treble and then in the bass; both rhythmic devices find a place in this order in most sets of variations written about this time (cf. Corelli's "La Folia"), it being so arranged that each variation should surpass its predecessor in rhythmic speed.

(2) Prelude, Air and Variations: This is the first of three "Lessons" for harpsichord. The term "Lesson" had by Handel's day lost any educational significance and was used loosely for the separate movements, which together formed a "Suite" (cf. the modern use of "Etude"). In this case Handel has deviated from the customary chain of dance movements, which comprised the suite of his day. The prelude is typical harpsichord music, the arpeggios being written for an instrument, which was not capable of sustained tone; such repetitions as occur in bars 9-10, 15-18 lose their effect if played on an instrument without a double manual or stops to vary the tone. The first four bars of the succeeding Allegro furnish a further instance (cf. Bach's "Italian Concerto"); the first two bars should be played forte and the following two piano to obtain the effect intended; note further instances in bars 5-8, 9-12, 13-14 and 15-16. Bars 5-7 are a good example of one of Handel's commonest mannerisms—the repetition in sequence of the same figure up or down the scale. The structure of the movement is very simple and held together by the little semiquaver figure, which is bandied about from treble to bass and vice versa; emotional content there is none, the music is purely decorative, like a pretty wallpaper.

The Air and Variations follow closely on the lines of "The Harmonious Blacksmith" variations, with which they should be compared. The air is a very beautiful tune, rhythmically interesting and with a fine climax in the penultimate bar. It won the admiration of Brahms to such an extent that he wrote a fine set of variations himself on this theme (op. 24) and a comparison between the two sets affords an instructive example of the difference between the old and the new methods of writing variations. Brahms' set represent a number of moods suggested by the theme, and they are therefore purely subjective and not necessarily variants of the actual theme at all though harmonically based upon it; they belong to the same class as the variations which Beethoven wrote at the end of his life or the Bach "Goldberg" variations. Handel's variations on the other hand are just pretty decorative patterns woven about the theme.

(3) Violin Sonata in F: Handel was one of the most proficient harpsichord players of the age; he was also a violinist of some ability and wrote a number of sonatas for the instrument with figured bass, which were published as opus 1 in 1732. In the Handel sonatas the harpsichord part is merely an accompaniment, constructed at will by the player from the figuring supplied by the composer. The Bach violin sonatas on the other hand contain an independent part for the keyed instrument, equal in importance to that written for its companion. Bach's sonatas therefore anticipate the duet sonatas of Mozart and Beethoven, whereas those of Handel derive directly from the old Italian sonatas of the Corelli school. Though Handel conformed to the stereotyped conventions of his model with respect to the character of each movement and its position in the sonata, he naturally achieved a far greater fluency of expression.

The first movement of the sonata under discussion is suave and mellifluous; there are none of those peculiarities of construction associated with the sonata of Haydn's day and subsequently incorporated in the connotation of the word itself. There are therefore no formal subjects, and the movement is held together by the first phrase of four bars, which recurs, slightly elaborated in bar 18 and again at bar 47. The second movement is usually in contrapuntal style, dignified and austere; in this case, Handel has given us a lighthearted opening, following by a more serious middle section (e.g. bars 18-21), which later passes back into the first mood with just a hint of solemnity in bars 36-70. There is a trace of conventionality about the violin figure in bar 9 seq. and elsewhere with its upward sequence, but this movement shows more attempt at thematic development than the first, and great play is made with the interval of the diminished seventh in bars 16 and elsewhere (cf. also bar 6).

The third movement is in true Italian style in the manner of Corelli; it is a beautiful piece of workmanship, but too polished and calculated to be deeply emotional in spite of a finely developed climax in the final bars; it is so constructed as to exhibit to the full the singing qualities of the solo instrument. The final Giga is delightfully frivolous and reminiscent of those with which Corelli was wont to terminate his sonatas. The Giga is a dance of Italian origin, and probably owes its name to an old word for the violin (cf. German "Geige"); it is almost always in compound time and concluded the series of dance tunes which comprised a Suite. Note the ascending sequence in bars 1-3, and the descending one in bars 9-11, the effective break into simple time in bars 23 and 25 and the climax in bar 37.

(4) (a) "He shall feed his flock": this is one of the most famous arias in "The Messiah": it is a beautiful and noble conception in spite of the clumsy arrangement of the words to the music, which is pastoral in character (cf. the Pastoral symphony in the same oratorio) and obviously suggested by and more suitable to the words of the first verse than of the second.

(b) "Ombra ma fui": this is a good example of Handel's secular arias; for some unexplained reason this song is popularly known as the "Largo" and as such has been subjected to frequent maltreatment at the hands of the adaptor. It is a good instance of the uniformity of Handel's style; whether the subject be secular or religious, Handel wrote the same kind of tunes and there is none of that distinction which we find so marked in Bach's sacred and secular cantatas. So detached has the tune of this aria become from its setting that it is a favourite piece with church organists, who are not normally prone to look to the opera house for their voluntaries.

"Serse" (Xerxes), the otherwise forgotten opera in which this aria occurs, was one of the thirty-nine Italian operas and was composed in the year 1738. The grace and dignity of the classical Italian style are nowhere better exemplified. Note the diatonic simplicity of the orchestral introduction, outlining the beautiful binary tune, which is to come, and the great expansion, which the first half of the tune (bars 1-9) undergoes in the aria proper (bars 15-38) whereas the second half (bars 10-14) is repeated intact with only slight modifications (bars 39-43) apart from a three bar coda to round it off.

(5) Concerto grosso in D minor: Handel composed twelve concertos for strings and the collection was published in 1739. His concertos belong to the same category as those of the old Italian masters, Corelli and Vivaldi, and have close affinity with the Brandenburg concertos of Bach. These concertos were not intended as a vehicle for the display of virtuosity, as were the concertos of the later composers. Orchestration was in its infancy in the days of Handel, and the concerto grosso was the first attempt at purely orchestral music. In a concerto of this type a small group of efficient soloists ("concertanti"), string or wind players, was contrasted with the main body ("ripieni") of more or less inefficient string players, who were often brought up from menial tasks in the buttery or kitchen for the purpose. The "ripieni" were further supplemented by a harpsichord player, working from the figured bass, who replaced the modern conductor by keeping the orchestra together in addition to his proper function of filling in the harmony.

The "Overture" in this work is a broad, solid piece of music, dignified and serious in the Italian manner. Note the imitation between first and second violins in bars 1-4, first at the interval of a bar, subsequently of half a bar. The three soloists, in this case two violinists and a violoncellist, play with the orchestra throughout. The second movement, as usual, is fugal in character; the answer in bar seven is played by second violins and violas in unison, but the latter drop out in bar eight, presumably owing to the fact that they could not be trusted to play in the higher positions and the weakness of tone of the eighteenth century second violin was probably less noticeable in fast passages than in slow. The violas are similarly strengthened by the violoncellos in bars 23-24.

The whole movement bustles along in a perfect welter of counterpoint, and again there are no passages for the soloists. The little epilogue in common time, with which this movement ends, in direct contrast with the mood of the remainder of the movement, is a common device of the composer and of the age. The slow movement is also true to type; the solo instruments hold the field in bars 10-13 and elsewhere. The cold formality of this movement and a lack of independence in the part-writing make it perhaps less successful than the others; the ear too is beginning to long for the relief of a change of key, but the principle of key contrast between movements was not yet systematically practised.

The third movement affords very little respite from the solemnity of the rest; it is full of interesting contrapuntal devices, imitation and the like, but the mood is unchanged. The last movement is opened by the solo violins, the second imitating the first; both join the main orchestra again when it enters in bar 5, but start off independently in bar 16 only to resume with the orchestra in the next bar. There are constant alternations of this kind throughout the movement, sometimes the soloists play by themselves or together, sometimes with the orchestra. The parts allotted to the soloists differ in no essential from the rest of the movement, and no opportunities for technical display are offered them, the sole intention being to secure a variety in the balance of tone. This movement is eminently typical of the methods of the composer; it is moreover skilfully worked out and very effective in performance.