Judas Maccabaeus
Handel Oratorio
Temple Emanu-El
Sunday Nov 24, 2002

Battle Songs Belted out Bravissimo

by Ruben Lipshitz
Once again, this past Sunday, I went within the great gilded vault that is Temple Emanu-El. Earnest Episcopalian edifice endeavors notwithstanding, this monument to establishment stands as the pinnacle of reformed reserve. Hidden away deep within mammoth concrete chambers, its enormous organ lurks in the vast rafters high above the six story tall arch over the Torah's ark. The new four manual console, with inlaid marble, sits in a loft so far above the Bima below that TV cameras with telephoto lenses are the means by which the organist sees his cues. The ancient organ works have been completely rebuilt in a labor of love by Sebastian Gluck in what can be compared only to the lonely toil of Michelangelo painting the glory of God upon the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel. The muscular Mr. Gluck was kind enough to give a group of us a tour, following the oratorio, of the gleaming pipes and pristine wind chests, which produce the high pressure that enable the Casavant to resound into the sanctuary beyond the temple walls that entomb it. The raw energy produced by these oversized engines could power a steamship across stormy seas.

The Hanukkah story, which the oratorio alludes to, unfolds in three parts. The lengthy first portrays heroic, if somewhat oddly Teutonic, mourning for the beloved Mattathias. Sonorous and somber songs enthrall as the choir, superbly conducted by Hunter Tillman, melds with Handel's music emotively evoked by Scott Warren at the massive organ console. The libretto, by the Rev. Thomas Morrell, reflects the stuffy Anglican King James English of olde. Yet, it was transformed by the international caliber choir and its conductor into haunting memorable choruses, recitatives, duets, and arias. The best bravisimo aria by far in the first part was by bass Andrew Martins; while tenor Archie Worley tended to try just a bit to hard and high. The first part ends with the moving chorus "Hear us, O Lord on Thee we call. Resolv'd on conquest, or glorious fall." It made me have a somewhat sacrilegious fantasy of wishing to hear it in Hebrew ('Schmoi Adonai,'…).

Parts two and three essentially recount glorious battles in song. Near the finale, just before the organ's rear gallery division resounds in the March, one hears the startlingly familiar chorus, "See, the conqu'ring hero comes! Sound the trumpets, beat the drums,…" Hang on, I thought, I've never heard this rarely performed oratorio before; where have I heard this music? Handel, it seems, borrowed from his own Messiah (um, as it were). The program notes point out that the oratorio was made possible due to the "victory of William, Duke of Cumberland over Charles Edward, the Pretender, at the battle of Culloden, Scotland on April 16, 1746." The program does not go on to explain why, or what that was all about. But, anyway, the paragraph did fit elegantly on the page; and I suppose that is what matters on the UES. But, there is more than mere tributes to legendary legions. At the close of part two the chorus sings, "…If to fall for laws, religion, liberty, we fall. We follow thee." This credo of faith is immediately followed by the aria, "Father of heav'n, from Thy eternal throne, look with an eye of blessing down. While we prepare, with holy rites, to solemnize the Feast of Lights. …" (Aha! Here's the part about Hanukkah after all.) This aria was sung so angelically by contralto Emily Eyre that I wanted to leap up on the pew bench and shout ‘Brava’ as some mad opera-queen might. I barely managed to restrain myself.