You may think I have flipp’d my...

You may think I have flipp’d my Wig--I, George Frideric Handel, two Centuries after my mortal Coil has unravel’d, discoursing upon a Concert in Pacific Palisades and the 70th Birthday of the Merry-Go-Round at the Santa Monica Pier.

Especially when the Musick to be played by the Viklarbo Chamber Ensemble at 4 p.m. today at St. Matthew’s Church, 1031 Bienveneda Ave. (donation $10; tickets (310) 454-1358), is not mine but that of Olivier Messaien, a Frenchman of your own Time.

Ah, Time! Messaien was a Soldier held captive by the Germans in 1941 when he wrote his “Quartet for the End of Time,” which the Ensemble will perform. And it seems to me that if Time does not end, it at least pivots about some Center and returns to its Point of Origin, like a Merry-Go-Round.

Messaien, like me, was an Organist, and his Musick, like my “Messiah,” was inspired by Holy Writ. No doubt the Critics of my Day would deem his Work an Offense against Harmony and snap at it with the Ferocity of Dogs who frequent Junk-Yards. But those same Critics were just as quick to pillory me because I perform’d a sacred Oratorio in Places of publick Amusement.

A Pox on all of them!

And those other Critics of your Day who fear that specious Art will corrupt the People: Let them consider how limited be the Power of Art for Good, and reflect that its Power for Bad can be no greater.

In 1741, I wrote my most famous Chorus and, descending the Stairs, told my Manservant: “I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God Himself.” Yet after 200 Years of hearing that Musick, Europe could still steep itself in Blood; and Germany, the Land of my Birth, the Source of much sublime Art, could imprison Messaien and do much worse.

No, the Function of Musick is to return us to Ourselves, just as the Merry-Go-Round whirls us without displacing us, and returns us to our Childhood. How I wish I could have ridden such a Hobby-Horse Machine! For though you know me as a heavy, wigg’d Face in steel Engravings, even I once was a Boy.

There may be aged Men and Women who attend the free Birthday Party from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday who rode this Merry-Go-Round in 1922 in Nashville, Tenn., or in 1947, when it was mov’d to the Pier. Let them ride again! And let them hear the Piping of the Calliope. When that Musick plays, they will be Children again--just as when my Musick plays, it is 1741 again, and Tomorrow, and all Times. For Musick, I think, is the very Axle upon which Time turns.

Hallelujah!