The Creation
We mark the anniversary of the premiere performance of Joseph Haydn’s oratorio The Creation - on April 29, 1798. He was 66 years old.
In 1798, that was old: knocking on death’s door old. Yelling at kids to get off one’s lawn old. Sitting in a park playing chess against yourself old.
Recently back from his second successful stay in London, the Vienna-based composer Haydn was supervising the debut of his most significant work, the oratorio The Creation. At the same time, he was contemplating his subsequent masterpiece, the oratorio The Seasons, which would premiere in 1801 when he was 69 years old.
Physically, Haydn was not “cover of Men’s Health” material: he was of short stature, with a face and neck marked by smallpox scars. His bowed legs seemed too short for his compact body, and he had a prominent, beak-like nose that curved to one side due to a painful nasal polyp. But he possessed a heart of gold—his sweetness, kindness, and generous spirit made him beloved by all (except, of course, his wife, whom he dubbed "that infernal beast"). His enthusiasm for the novel was almost childlike, matched only by the boundless optimism and vigor of someone a third his age.
Haydn returned to Vienna from his second prolonged stay in London in September 1795. Just before his return, he was noted to have said: “I want to write a work that will give permanent fame to my name in the world.”
Incredible: as if his 104 symphonies, soon-to-be 68 string quartets, operas, trios, piano sonatas, concerti, and countless other works had not already given permanent fame to his name!
In reality, Haydn's reference was to something quite particular. Moved by the performances of Handel's oratorios, Messiah and Israel in Egypt, which he had experienced in London, he aspired to create an oratorio of comparable grandeur: a composition for soloists, choirs, and orchestra that would resonate with and motivate his Austrian homeland.
For his oratorio's subject, Haydn selected the grand narrative of the creation story. The tale goes that while in London, Haydn turned to his friend, the violinist Francois Hippolyte Barthélemon, for inspiration on a topic. Barthélemon, gesturing towards a Bible, provided his suggestion. “There! Take that and begin at the beginning.”
Before departing from London, Haydn's producer, the impresario Johann Peter Salomon, procured an English-language libretto titled The Creation of the World. Although the libretto's author remains unidentified, it is known that it was initially intended for Handel. Upon his return to Vienna, Haydn entrusted the libretto to Baron Gottfried van Swieten (pictured above), prefect of the Vienna court library and president of the Viennese educational commission. Van Swieten was an ardent admirer of Handel's music, especially his oratorios, and was also a friend and patron to both Mozart and Beethoven.
Baron van Swieten not only translated and adapted the libretto for Haydn but also secured a commission for the work from several music big-wigs in Vienna. This commission covered all performance costs and provided Haydn with a substantial fee.
The period during which Haydn composed The Creation, specifically the years 1797 and 1798, is often cited as one of the happiest in his life. A devout Catholic, Haydn was never troubled by doubt or skepticism. His inherently optimistic nature shone through in his portrayal of divine love and goodness in The Creation, mirroring his personal religious convictions and positive outlook on life. Haydn would share with anyone willing to listen that the process of working on the oratorio left him feeling elevated, inspired, and in profound communion with his God. He expressed these sentiments to his friend Giuseppe Carpani:
“Never was I as devout as when composing The Creation. I knelt down every day and prayed to God to strengthen me for my work. When I felt my inspiration flagging, I rose from the piano and began to say my rosary. I never found that method to fail.”
"The Creation" was for Haydn what the Choral Symphony was for Beethoven or the B Minor Mass was for Bach – the pinnacle of his life's work, a grand composition for voices and instruments that articulated his fundamental beliefs in God and his perspective on life. The expressive impact Haydn intended in "The Creation" is perhaps best encapsulated by Princess Eleonore Liechtenstein, who, after attending its premiere wrote to her daughter:
“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.”
The first performances of The Creation were held on April 29 and 30, 1798, for a specially invited audience. (The performance on April 29 was advertised as a “full dress rehearsal” but make no mistake, it did indeed constitute and was considered to be the “first performance.”)
The premiere resembled the grand opening of a classic, high-budget Hollywood film. The event unfolded at Prince Schwarzenberg's palace, where a vast throng of spectators, autograph seekers, and red-carpet enthusiasts congregated outside. To maintain order, twelve police officers and eighteen armed guards were deployed around the premises. The fortunate guests, arrayed in their finest attire, included the crème de la crème of nobility from Austria, Poland, and England. Among the attendees was Giuseppe Carpani.
“I was present, and I can assure you I never witnessed such a scene. The flower of society of Vienna was assembled in the room, which was well adapted to the purpose. The most profound silence, the most scrupulous attention, a sentiment, I might almost say, of religious respect prevailed when the first stroke of the bow was given.”
Haydn, ordinarily a the epitome of cool, was a nervous wreck. He recalled later:
“One moment, I was cold as ice, the next I seemed on fire, more than once I was afraid I should have a stroke.”
Nothing to worry about, maestro; The Creation was a sensation. Speaking for pretty much everyone who was there, the critic for the Neuer teutsche Merkur wrote:
“Three days have passed since that incredible, rapturous evening, and still the music sounds in my ears and in my heart; still the mere memory of all the flood of emotions experienced that evening constricts my chest.”
Indeed. And I implore everyone to listen to it immediately!