"Often when contending with obstacles of every sort that interfered with my work, often when my powers both of body and mind were failing and I felt it a hard matter to persevere on the course I had entered on, a secret feeling within me whispered: 'There are but few contented and happy men here below; grief and care prevail everywhere; perhaps your labors may one day be the source from which the weary and worn, or the man burdened with affairs, may derive a few moments' rest and refreshment.' What a powerful motive for pressing onward!" Thus spoke Joseph Haydn, one of the most independent spirits in the history of music, in whom unusual musical gifts were combined with a sanguine soul: "When I think upon my God, my heart is so full of joy that the notes dance and leap from my pen; and since God has given me a cheerful heart, it will be pardoned me that I serve him with a cheerful spirit." Haydn employed these characteristics to carry out during his lifetime a single-handed and tremendous conquest of all of musical Europe such as had never before occurred in the history of music.

Late in 1790, Haydn was visited by a well-known violinist and London concert promoter, Johann Peter Salomon, who proposed to take Haydn to London with him to conduct twenty concerts, and offered him £2160 for a new opera, six symphonies, and several other works. The composer, who could not speak a single word of English, accepted Salomon's offer, and left Vienna for London on December 15, 1790. His London advent created a sensation; he was treated like royalty, his new pieces received rave reviews, and in July 1791, he was invited to Oxford, where the honorary degree of Doctor of Music was conferred upon the 59-year-old musical master.

Haydn was in the audience during the great 1791 Handel Festival at London's Westminster Abbey. The power and splendor of the music stirred in him a desire, in his own words, to "write a work that will give permanent fame to my name in the world," a large-scale work meant not simply for the pleasure of select private audiences but for the uplifting of an entire nation. Haydn had written operas, but felt that he could not produce his finest music in this chiefly dramatic form. He found particularly attractive the type of Handelian oratorio exemplified by Messiah and especially by Israel in Egypt, with its preponderance of grand, hymn-like choruses and its colorful and evocative depictions of the forces of Nature. Haydn therefore decided to try to revive this kind of Baroque oratorio through the use of the new style of orchestration that he had helped to create and to popularize. Just before leaving England in 1795, after his second visit to that country, he was given by his friend Salomon a handwritten libretto by an unknown author entitled The Creation. Supposedly meant for Handel but not set to music by him, it was a compilation of texts from the first chapter of the Book of Genesis and the seventh and eighth books of Milton's Paradise Lost. Its theme being the manifestation of God's glory in the created world, it provided the perfect point of contact for Haydn's deep personal devoutness and the prevailing spirit of his age that glorified reason, morality, and Nature.

When Haydn returned to Vienna, the director of the imperial library, Baron Gottfried van Swieten, a wealthy Dutch diplomat and amateur composer who deeply admired the oratorios of Handel, remodeled and translated this libretto into German, adding verses from the Psalms for many of the most significant choruses. The baron also assembled a group of music-loving noblemen who guaranteed sufficient funds to cover the costs of performance and to provide Haydn with an honorarium. Thus sometime late in 1796, the 64-year-old Haydn, freed from financial concerns, began with both joy and painstaking care to set to music both the English and the German Creation texts in parallel. "I was never so devout as when I was at work on The Creation," he said. "I fell on my knees each day and begged God to give me the strength to accomplish the work successfully." The completion of the oratorio was announced on April 6, 1798, and it was first performed at the palace of Prince Schwartzenberg in the Mehlmarkt late that month, with the composer conducting. "One moment," Haydn later recalled, "I was cold as ice, the next I seemed on fire; more than once I was afraid I should have a stroke." This performance, and the first public one nearly a year later, were immensely successful, and over time the work rose to a pinnacle of popularity in the oratorio literature second only to Handel's Messiah. It was as if The Creation, through its perfect blend of the pastoral and the devotional, expressed humanity's hope for a peaceful future (as tenuous in 1799 as it is today) and brought to its audiences a measure of comfort in a chaotic present, blessing thousands of Viennese and other Europeans with joy and consolation as well as raising substantial sums for charity.

In keeping with the temperament of its creator, this marvelous oratorio sustains an overarching mood of happiness, hope, and delight, its darker moments only adding depth to its artistic form. Throughout the work Haydn is a wizard who waves the magic wand of his music and conjures up onto the stage of the listener's imagination the text's rich visual images to which he proceeds to impart vibrant life. The orchestra and the solo archangels Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael, tell by turns the story of the universe's creation. Chorus and soloists are sometimes deployed together and at other times sing in rapid alternation. The forms of the arias alter from number to number, but are always dependent on the texts. The recitatives are often given by their nature-loving composer the form of memorable accompanied melodies (ariosos) that are especially notable for their colorful tone-painting.

The oratorio opens with an orchestral prelude entitled "Representation of Chaos," a "musical depiction of a beauty almost frightening in its chromatic and dissonant texture-something outside of Time, one of the supreme musical dramatizations of all time," according to Leonard Bernstein. Throughout Parts I and II, a recitative based on a text from Genesis 1 announces the beginning of each new creation day, an arioso and/or aria based on a text from Milton describe the most picturesque events, and at the end of each day, the chorus, representing the angelic hosts, praises the handiwork of God in a joyful hymn. After the opening recitative, a whisper of choral sound drifts over a pulsing orchestral accompaniment, depicting the Spirit of God moving over the face of the primal waters. The C major sonic explosion with which the word "light" soon bursts upon the audience is one of the most dazzling moments in all of music! The composer then proceeds to cover his musical canvas with a succession of paintings, bringing before our aural eyes all the Creator's wonders: storm (complete with wind, lightning, thunder, rain, hail, and snow); surging sea billows; rugged rocks and majestic mountains; wide meadows and verdant valleys through which serpentine streams wind and bright brooks flow; fields filled with fragrant flowers, fruits, and pungent herbs; wooded slopes; splendorous sun, mild moon, and sparkling stars. The majestic hymn, "The heavens are telling the glory of God," for chorus and a trio of soloists, ends this part with some of the finest choral writing in the entire composition.

The second part of the oratorio describes the fifth and sixth creation days, when God fills the Earth with creatures of all kinds, including humans. Here again Haydn indulges in delightful displays of imaginative and humorous word-painting, as each of the creatures is brought to life by the soloists: eagle, lark, dove, nightingale, fish, sea monster, lion, tiger, stag, horse, cattle, sheep, insects and, at last, the worm. Uriel now describes with contrasting sonorities the creation of man and woman. This part ends with two mighty choruses of praise in the same key, based partly on identical music and text ("Achieved is the glorious work"), that surround a trio for the archangels. The concluding chorus contains a complex double fugue (one based on two subjects) celebrating the creation's completion.

The contrasting third part of the oratorio deals with the seventh day, when God rested from His creative efforts, and depicts, by means of solos, lovers' duets, and choruses, that blissful paradise enjoyed by the first humans. The bass and soprano now sing the parts of Adam and Eve. They are given music that is increasingly sensual and operatic in nature, in which they praise the magnificence of God's creation and express their mutual love. The duet and chorus, "Earth and heaven, O Lord and God, are full of thy bounty," is one of the longest and most powerful pieces in the entire oratorio. The last number is a hymn of thanksgiving for solo quartet and chorus that closes the composition with another splendid double fugue.

Princess Eleonore Liechtenstein wrote to her daughter about her response to The Creation: "One has to shed tender tears about the greatness, the majesty, the goodness of God. The soul is uplifted. One cannot but love and admire." When the oratorio's first public performance ended, there were calls of "Father Haydn to the front! Father Haydn to the front!" according to the Swedish child prodigy, Johan Frederik Berwald. Just as Haydn praised the Creator and His handiwork in this music, and Haydn's audience praised the composer as he took his bow, we hope that you will join that exuberant audience as they cried in response to Haydn's paean: "Long live Father Haydn! Long live music!"

© 2003 Lorelette Knowles