The Messiah in Angola, Indiana directed by Joseph Peters.

 

I take my seat in the balcony, stage right at the T. Furth Center for the Performing Arts. It is my traditional seat. Of course, I am early as I want to chat with friends, and watch the orchestra warm up as the singers begin to meander in one at a time. I know them, at least most of them. The air is absolutely electric with anticipation of another lovely event mixed with an audience of all ages. This year I share my tickets with my friend, Anita. It is her first time, and I am so happy I can give her this opportunity. The audience is chatty as we wait for the moment when Joseph Peters takes the stage. All is hushed and then a huge applause breaks out. Joe is dapper in his tuxedo, and it is apparent he is the star of the day although he would never agree to that.

For on this Sunday, we wait in anticipation for the 12^th annual performance, presented by the Steuben County Festival Choir and Orchestra, of Handel’s “Messiah.” Joe makes a few announcements and reads through the thank you lists. So many folks to thank for this extraordinary affair. He gives his utmost praise to the orchestra, the choir and to George Frederick Handel. Handel, amazingly, wrote the “Messiah” in twenty-four days. It was written in English as an oratorio which meant it became popular in England first. It is to the brilliance of Handel that this piece, written over 200 years ago, is the most sought after piece performed at Christmas time. Ludwig van Beethoven, citing the “Messiah,” called Handel the "greatest composer who ever lived. ... I would uncover my head and kneel before his tomb.” For me, it isn’t Christmas until the “Messiah” is performed in our town.

After the introductions, Joe takes his position as director. From my balcony seat, I can tell he whispers something to the Philharmonic orchestra and to his choir. He smiles. He picks up the baton, and we are off for a two-hour, uninterrupted musical masterpiece. I watch Joe work, and as I have said before, he is a living work of art. The music and the choir are stellar. One by one the vocalists, coached by Lynn Syler, take their places at the microphone. Their talents exceed all possibilities as they sing their respective parts. Not just are they amazing, but it completely takes my breath away to hear such voices. I look down at the choir, smiling and singing, and I know the hours and time they have put into this production. Jeri Mow continues her role as the pianist. Her work is also done in perfection.

Between the movements of this piece, there is no clapping. We must wait until the entire piece is finished, but it is hard to wait. I applaud thunderously between movements in my head. I have attended all of the twelve productions, so I recognize the songs and the movements. By the time we get to the Hallelujah chorus, we are all on our feet! It is tradition to stand following the lead of King George 11 who stood during the premiere in London in 1743. From that day on, audiences have followed the tradition and stand for that one movement.

By the time the last movement is performed, I am sitting on the edge of my seat knowing I will soon give my standing ovation as well as everyone else in the full house! We are so quick to stand, and with a non-ending thunderous applause, Joe points to the orchestra, the choir, the vocalists and then points to them all over again. We, the audience, are pulled into that space of joy and celebrate the beauty with all of them. Time stands still.

Making my way down from the balcony, I chat with friends. We shake our heads and say, “Wasn’t it magnificent?” There are no other words to describe what we all shared together. I stand in the lobby hoping to say a word or two to the performers, to Joe, to his parents. I am in luck as they stroll by, and we share congratulations to all.

There are moments in life that we share with one another. We become one. This is one of those times. I can’t imagine being anywhere else doing anything but sharing this afternoon with friends, with community, with tradition.

As for Mr. Joseph Peters, you are an icon, and we thank you.