Joy to the Elm City: 499 Voices and 1 Silent Baritone

I kept my eyes on the timpanist, my ears open to astonishing sounds, and, because I didn’t know the lyrics and couldn’t sight-read the baritone part on the score, kept my big mouth shut.

Other body parts, no doubt, were affected, but I hesitate to mention my ticker, which had not anticipated the artfulness or great sense of joy so obvious in Battell Chapel on Sunday.

For the woman sitting in front of me, whom I inadvertently banged on the head as part of my unbounded reaction to the annual free singalong of Handel’s ​“The Messiah,” it was just another hazard she has faced in her many years of attending this Elm City ritual. 

She does so because though performances vary (this year she considered the trumpeting the best ever), the end result is always the same: exultation.

And then we recognized this truth: When a person ventures out in a rainstorm, as on Sunday afternoon, to become part of an annual joy-fest instead of saying, ​“Isn’t it nice just to sit in front of the fireplace,” certain positive omens inevitably occur. 

In our case, in an audience that counted somewhere around 500, Suzanne and I happened to find random seats just in front of Jessica Baker. 

I’ve known her for nearly 40 years, and have heard her spectacular soprano voice many times, dating from New Year’s Eve in 1988 when at the old Restaurant du Village in Chester, she sang, as the clock struck midnight, an a cappella version of Puccini’s ​“Musetta’s Waltz.” 

As for my own non-performance with the crowd at Battell, as a proposed measure of mitigation, I did not grow up with parents who insisted that Jesus should be part of my inheritance.

Indeed, I did not mention that holy name in my Bar Mitzvah speech on November 10, 1956, nor were my Orthodox grandparents or anyone else in the sanctuary expecting me to.

But, as a slight majority of acquaintances may testify, I am not entirely stupid, or without experience in the world of non-Jews.

Even as a kid, I reveled in the season of Christmas by playing carols on the piano to the reliable aggravation of my mother.

And in college, I was part of the Greek Chorus, and as such helped perform songs I adored, such as ​“O Holy Night,” ​“We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” and of course the anthem written by a Jewish composer, as so many carols, ​“White Christmas.” (Thank you, Irving Berlin.)

So, I was only, if you’ll pardon the irreverence, only a partial virgin in the performing audience of ​“The Messiah.” 

My lack of helpful assistance, I’m sure, was not noticed by other collaborators of the show, including the Yale Glee Club, members of the Yale Symphony, and the gifted soloists who performed passages unknown to me, such as ​“Every Valley Shall Be Exalted,” ​“He That Shall Dwell in Heaven,” and ​“How Beautiful the Feet of Them.”

It’s not that Judaism is devoid of joyous moments. This Chanukah season is designed to be one of them (even if this one needs an asterisk, considering the cataclysm in Israel and Gaza).

And I recall my years playing in a klezmer band, often watching listeners try to dance the hora without stepping on each other’s feet.

Or the ecstasy in the social hall when the dancers grab a chair, put the bride in it, and lift her to the ceiling. 

But ​“The Messiah” holds a special place in the souls of so many. It blocks the whole outside: the wars, the difficulties of daily life, the pessimism that pervades about the future of democracy, etc.

During all this, the timpanist had nothing to do. From where I sat, I could only see his back, and the two mallets resting on one of his two drums. He might have been following the score, or maybe (if not likely) looking at his cellphone to catch the latest NFL scores. 

But as the climactic tunes built to such a level of sound that any grinch would find himself unaccountably happy, the timpanist picked up his tools and pounded away in rhythm with 500 hearts. 

Note: The New Haven Symphony and First Church Choir will present a concert version of Handel’s ​“The Messiah” on Sunday at 3 p.m. at Woolsey Hall. https://newhavensymphony.org/h…