Felix Mendelssohn’s magnificent oratorio Elijah stands as one of the towering achievements of the Romantic era, a work of such dramatic fire and lyrical beauty that its premiere in 1846 was met with a reception bordering on hysteria. The English audience at the Birmingham Music Festival was so overwhelmed that they demanded encores of four choruses and four arias, an unheard-of tribute for a sacred work. Mendelssohn, who conducted the performance, was a lifelong admirer of the Baroque masters Handel and Bach, and Elijah is his grand synthesis of their contrapuntal rigor with the passionate emotionalism and rich orchestral
...A Prophet's Fiery Sermon in Sound
At the conclusion of the premiere of Elijah in Birmingham, England, the normally reserved English audience erupted. The thunderous applause was so sustained that the performers, including the composer-conductor Felix Mendelssohn, could hardly believe it. One critic reported, "Never was there a more complete triumph." Mendelssohn himself, a man of immense poise, was deeply moved, writing to his brother, "No work of mine ever went so admirably the first time of execution, or was received with such enthusiasm." This reception was not merely polite appreciation; it was a recognition that the audience had just witnessed the birth of a masterpiece, an oratorio that possessed all the gravitas of Handel’s Messiah but with a theatrical pulse and dramatic urgency that felt entirely new and exhilarating. The work’s success was immediate, and its stature has never diminished.
The Genesis of a Masterpiece
The idea of an oratorio based on the prophet Elijah had captivated Mendelssohn for nearly a decade before its premiere. He was drawn to the figure's immense dramatic potential, describing him as a "real prophet of the kind we could do with today: strong, zealous, and even grim and fierce." He envisioned a work that was not merely a pious retelling of scripture but a vibrant, living drama. Collaborating with his friend, the pastor Julius Schubring, who had also assisted with the libretto for his earlier oratorio St. Paul, Mendelssohn meticulously crafted a narrative that would highlight the prophet's humanity as much as his divine power. The composer was insistent on maintaining dramatic momentum, a quality he felt was sometimes lacking in the more static oratorios of the past. This focus on character and conflict gives Elijah its distinct, almost operatic feel and sets it apart as a pinnacle of sacred dramatic music.
A Handelian Legacy with Romantic Fire
Mendelssohn’s profound reverence for the works of Johann Sebastian Bach and George Frideric Handel forms the bedrock of Elijah. The structural pillars of the work—the powerful fugal choruses, the expressive arias, and the narrative-driving recitatives—are inherited directly from his Baroque predecessors. One can hear the ghost of Handel’s grand choral tradition in the majestic "Thanks be to God" and the intricate contrapuntal writing of Bach in the complex textures of choruses like "Be not afraid." However, Mendelssohn pours new, Romantic wine into these old wineskins. The orchestra is larger, more colorful, and used with greater psychological subtlety. The harmonies are richer and more chromatic, the melodies more intensely personal, and the transitions between numbers are more fluid, creating a seamless and immersive dramatic arc. He masterfully weds the formal discipline of the Baroque with the emotional immediacy and sonic splendor of the 19th century.
The Dramatic Structure and Character of Elijah
One of Mendelssohn’s most brilliant strokes is the oratorio's opening. Dispensing with a conventional overture, he has Elijah himself step forward and, in a stark, unaccompanied recitative, prophesy a devastating drought. Only then does the orchestra launch into a tense, agitated overture that musically depicts the suffering and anxiety of the cursed land. The work is divided into two parts. Part I is a drama of public confrontation, chronicling Elijah’s struggle against the idolatrous King Ahab and his priests of Baal. This section contains some of the work's most theatrical scenes, including the contest on Mount Carmel, which culminates in the miracle of fire from heaven and the desperate prayers for rain. Part II is a more intimate and spiritual journey. It follows the prophet into the wilderness as he flees the wrath of Queen Jezebel, sinks into despair, and ultimately experiences a profound and personal encounter with God, not in the wind or the earthquake, but in a "still, small voice." The oratorio concludes with his final prophetic acts and his triumphant ascension into heaven in a chariot of fire.
The Role of the Chorus: The People of Israel
Throughout Elijah, the chorus is far more than a passive commentator. It functions as a central character in the drama: the fickle, suffering, and ultimately repentant people of Israel. Their journey mirrors the dramatic arc of the oratorio. They cry out in desperation in the opening chorus, "Help, Lord!," their music fragmented and pleading. In the scene on Mount Carmel, they first sing the frenzied, almost barbaric music of the pagans in "Baal, we cry to thee," and then, after witnessing God’s power, their music transforms into the awe-filled chorus, "The fire descends from heaven!" Their celebration at the end of the drought, the magnificent chorus "Thanks be to God," is an explosion of collective joy and relief, with waves of sound building to an overwhelming climax. Mendelssohn’s writing for the chorus is consistently brilliant, demanding power, agility, and immense expressive range.
Musical Depiction and Word Painting
Mendelssohn was a master of musical imagery, and Elijah is filled with vivid examples of word painting. The parched landscape of the overture is palpable in the orchestra's dry, agitated figures. During the contest with the priests of Baal, their cries become increasingly frantic and dissonant, musically illustrating their futility. Conversely, Elijah’s prayer is calm and steadfast. The arrival of rain is one of the work’s most celebrated sequences; starting with the boy’s report of a tiny cloud, the orchestra begins with delicate, pizzicato "raindrops" in the strings, gradually building in texture and volume into the torrential downpour of "Thanks be to God." Perhaps most effective is the depiction of God's appearance on Mount Horeb. The orchestra unleashes its full fury to represent the great wind, the earthquake, and the fire, only to fall into a reverent hush for the arrival of the "still, small voice," a moment of sublime and transcendent peace.
The Soloists as Characters
The bass-baritone role of Elijah is one of the most demanding in the repertoire, requiring both heroic vocal power and deep psychological insight. His rage is white-hot in the aria "Is not His word like a fire?," which is full of percussive fury. Yet, in Part II, he reveals a profound vulnerability in the aria "It is enough," a lament of utter despair that is deeply reminiscent of the sorrowful arias in Bach’s Passions. The other soloists also portray key characters. The soprano sings with lyrical beauty as the grieving but faithful Widow of Zarephath. The alto is a voice of divine comfort as the Angel but also portrays the menacing Queen Jezebel. The tenor, as Obadiah, serves as a voice of calm and unwavering faith amidst the chaos. Among the most beloved moments in the entire work is the angelic trio "Lift thine eyes," a moment of pure, ethereal beauty that offers a balm of heavenly peace.
The Birmingham Premiere and Lasting Impact
The premiere in Birmingham was a landmark event. The orchestra consisted of 125 players and the chorus numbered 271 singers, a massive ensemble for the time. The work's impact was profound and lasting, especially in England and Germany, where it quickly became a staple for the countless amateur choral societies that were a central feature of 19th-century musical life. For many, it achieved a status second only to Handel’s Messiah. Ever the perfectionist, Mendelssohn was not entirely satisfied with the version heard at the premiere and undertook significant revisions before its publication in 1847, just months before his untimely death. The version we hear today is this final, polished masterpiece.
A Legacy of Faith and Drama
Elijah endures because it speaks to a fundamental human experience. Mendelssohn’s prophet is not a remote, stained-glass figure but a deeply human man, capable of commanding fire from the heavens but also susceptible to crippling doubt and despair. The oratorio is a powerful exploration of the nature of faith—not as a state of placid certainty, but as a dynamic, often difficult journey. By fusing the grand traditions of the Baroque oratorio with the dramatic intensity of opera and the emotional depth of Romanticism, Felix Mendelssohn created a work that continues to thrill, move, and inspire audiences more than 175 years after its triumphant first performance. It is a monumental sermon in sound, a timeless testament to the power of music to explore the greatest questions of the human spirit.