A Choreographed Handel's Messiah?! How Dare We!

There are those who become incensed at the idea of daring to touch, to change—to mess with!—an iconic work such as Handel’s Messiah.  After all, it’s a work of genius, maybe even inspired by God, so we must put it in a glass case like a museum piece, handle it with the reverence it deserves, and never, ever, do anything imaginative with it like marrying it with ballet!  How dare we!  Sacrilege!

But of course, there was a time when Messiah itself was new, imaginative, untried, even a gamble.  The oratorio was enthusiastically embraced when first performed in Ireland, but in London there were problems.  The libretto consisted of a string of Bible verses—no plot!—it revolved around a very sacred subject, the Savior, but smacked of the theater—a defiling influence for many—and it just didn’t feel right.  But after a few years it began to catch on, a kind of ritual developed around it, and it eventually steamrollered its way to sacred artistic status.

So when Ballet Bellevue asked me to take on the task of music director for a choreographed Messiah, I leaped at it.  There are few things I love more than artistic exploration, and if that involves knocking down a few icons along the way, so much the better.   Cultures change, great works can ossify, and if we can limber up our creative muscles, bring artistry to life for a new public through innovative and untried means, by all means, go for it!

As I’ve watched the rehearsals unfold, a few snapshots linger in my mind, images that capture the entire Messiah/ballet experience and underscore the worth of such an inspired endeavor.

In one, the stage is dark, and a shaft of bright light shoots diagonally across the floor.  As the bass soloist sings "The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light" the dancers, seated on the floor in the darkness, inject their feet into the shaft of light—and twirl them and stomp them and dance them!  Just their feet, moving in the light.

In another, the tenor soloist and a single dancer are on the stage, the dancer on the floor with agony on her face.  As the tenor sings of the Messiah’s great, great sorrow, he reaches out and tenderly touches her, and brings her to her feet, she with sorrow like a cloak around her.  The emotional weight of the moment is palpable.

And in the third, chorus and soloists surround the dancers as they leap and frolic to the mighty strains of the Hallelujah chorus.  I love conducting the Hallelujah chorus, but I have never had so much sheer fun with it!

The human spirit needs to explore, create, dream.  It’s what makes life worthwhile.

Dr. Linda Gingrich

Artistic Director and Conductor

Master Chorus Eastside