As a young parent in the 1970s, I blasted "Messiah" on my home stereo system. My daughters became familiar with it.
I've had a recording of "Messiah," by Neville Marriner and the Academy and Chorus of St Martin-in-the Fields, on my iPod for years. I listen to it multiple times each holiday season as I go about my early-morning walks.
I've attended "Messiah" performances at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C., the Segerstrom Hall in Costa Mesa, the Robert B. Moore Theater at Orange Coast College and at numerous churches throughout the Southland.
I've probably listened to the oratorio all the way through more times than Handel himself.
Beethoven once labeled Handel "the greatest composer that ever lived." Handel wrote "Messiah" in 24 days during an intense creative frenzy in the summer of 1741, though he continued to tweak it over the remainder of his lifetime (18 years). After the composer's death, Mozart orchestrated a German version of the work.
In preparation for writing the music, Handel read Scriptures selected for the libretto. He said he was "overcome" by the power of the words. The great oratorio exploded within his mind and gushed from his quill onto paper. Handel worked day and night — often neglecting to eat — until the massive undertaking was completed.
It stands today as a work of near-miraculous proportions.
"Messiah" had its premiere in Dublin in April 1742. Handel led the performance at the harpsichord. Over the years, he conducted "Messiah" on numerous occasions.
Handel is buried at Westminster Abbey, and the inscription is passage from Job 19 prominently featured in his musical score: "I know that my Redeemer Liveth."
Though the "Hallelujah" chorus is the thing that initially attracts most to the oratorio, it is by no means its only treasure. One music critic has likened "Messiah" to the Alps, with the "Hallelujah" chorus standing apart as its Matterhorn.