SIGN IN to access Harper’s Magazine
1. Sign in to Customer Care using your account number or postal address.
2. Select Email/Password Information.
3. Enter your new information and click on Save My Changes.
Subscribers can find additional help here. Not a subscriber? Subscribe today!
Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Elijah: An Oratorio (1846)
Heinrich Heine could not help noticing the irony in the fact that when the greatest work of the Baroque sacred repertoire, Johann Sebastian Bach’s Matthew’s Passion, was finally recognized and put in its rightful place, it was a Jew who did it. Moreover, it was the grandson of history’s “Third Moses.” Though Felix Mendelssohn, like Heine, was a convert, unlike Heine, he was actually rather serious about his new-found religion. His composing shows it. And it also shows a commitment to the faith of his equally famous grandfather. An important part of Felix Mendelssohn’s genius lay in his uncanny ability to ferret out great works of the past – to brush off the outer finery of a long passed era and recognize the great pathos that was found inside. But another piece of Mendelssohn’s genius consisted of the transposition of the genre to the tastes of the Romantic era.
Not everything he did in this regard was an unqualified success, and even the most important, Elijah, has its detractors. (Bernard Shaw rather maliciously called it a “failed comic opera”). It takes as its subject matter the life of the prophet Elijah, set out in I Kings – this includes the well-known tale of Ahab and his wife Jezebel, and the rise of the cult of Baal among the Israelites. The music is marvelous – not so profound as Bach, but still melodic and beautiful, and some passages are very great indeed. The settings include several Psalms and messianic prophesies. The link here is to the London/Decca recording with Bryn Terfel and Renée Fleming with the Orchestra of the Age of the Enlightenment, but the Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau recording on EMI is even better, if you can find it.
More from Scott Horton:
Six Questions — October 18, 2014, 8:00 pm
Nathaniel Raymond on CIA interrogation techniques.
I recently spent a semester teaching writing at an elite liberal-arts college. At strategic points around the campus, in shades of yellow and green, banners displayed the following pair of texts. The first was attributed to the college’s founder, which dates it to the 1920s. The second was extracted from the latest version of the institution’s mission statement:
The paramount obligation of a college is to develop in its students the ability to think clearly and independently, and the ability to live confidently, courageously, and hopefully.
Let us take a moment to compare these texts. The first thing to observe about the older one is that it is a sentence. It expresses an idea by placing concepts in relation to one another within the kind of structure that we call a syntax. It is, moreover, highly wrought: a parallel structure underscored by repetition, five adverbs balanced two against three.
Percentage of Britons who cannot name the city that provides the setting for the musical Chicago:
An Australian entrepreneur was selling oysters raised in tanks laced with Viagra.
A naked man believed to be under the influence of LSD rammed his pickup truck into two police cars.
Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!
“Shelby is waiting for something. He himself does not know what it is. When it comes he will either go back into the world from which he came, or sink out of sight in the morass of alcoholism or despair that has engulfed other vagrants.”