Dramatic Theatrical Music for Plays, Performances & Events | Royalty-Free Soundtracks

Reinhard Keiser is one of those most important figures in the late Baroque who everyone talks about, but few actually have explored his compositions. Known as Mr. Opera in Hamburg for over a quarter century, he was at the forefront of the development of German opera in the city, one that really needs further research, as it was a mishmash of styles, languages, and subject matter that seems to have been quite popular. After all, where else could you find a Russian story Boris Gudanov by a German composer (Johann Mattheson) with arias in Italian, German, and French? Much of the real repertory, however, was more conventional, and a number of important composers were active at the Oper am Gänsemarktplatz (for those needing translation: Opera on the Goose Market Square), including Mattheson, Telemann, and Handel. One might even have speculated that Johann Sebastian Bach would have shifted course had he decided to divert from his journey to Lübeck just a tad. Among these figures, however, Keiser was the most visible figure, having pretty much done all of the jobs from impresario to continuo player. When things finally became rocky in Hamburg in the 1710s, Keiser sought positions elsewhere, but had no luck. In 1721 he finally returned to Hamburg, but his options at the sometimes functioning restored opera were limited, and he commuted to Copenhagen before in 1727 finally landing a job as a church musician. At that point, he had too much competition from Georg Philipp Telemann, and so his final pieces were written for that venue. All in all, he wrote some 30 or so operas, covering subjects sacred (i.e. plots derived from Biblical stories) and secular, so his rocky career did not inhibit his creativity. All this is to place Reinhard Keiser into context, since apart from his hit Croesus, resurrected by conductor René Clemencic and René Jacobs several decades ago, productions of his music are somewhat of a novelty. Of course, several of the operas have appeared (I can name Tomyris and Pomona off the top of my head), but not much of the others have enticed conductors and early music groups. Therefore, to have this collection of what he called “Theatralische Musik” is a good start in a re-examination of his music. This collection is a bit of a hodgepodge, with instrumental numbers interspersed with short cantatas, loose arias, and bits from his Carolus V of 1712. The grab bag has its origins in the music that Keiser presented to various rulers in the hopes that they would offer him employment. The actual theatre music consists of instrumental pieces, beginning with a “concerto” that is quite jaunty and would have functioned well as an opera sinfonia. The prominent oboe and the martial rhythms all have the ability to grab one’s attention, and the influence on Handel is quite evident in the orchestration and differing moods, especially the mysterious and ghostly Adagio that serves as a central section. The short Andante has a light, airy, but flowing flute solo worthy of a Telemann concerto, and the short sinfonia that follows (after a cantata) is harmonically adventurous in the Grave, but swiftly flies about in the Presto before an entrada that is entirely French in style. The twirling oboes add depth to the instrumentation here and the slightly Polonaise-like minuet that is next; this was written for the King of Poland, so the nod is entirely appropriate. This same folk tone permeates the Rondeau, and the final work on the disc is another minuet that is quite regal. As for the vocal numbers, the three opera aria excerpts in German are equally nice, especially the interplay between voice and oboes in “Mit keinem Kuss,” as well as the pensive “Kann’s möglich sein” with its solemn and halting string accompaniment. The airs “Luci non vi turbate” could almost belong in a Bach cantata, and it is thoroughly German in style. The cantata Du bist in den Tod follows an Italianate pattern of a pair of recitatives and arias, the last of which has a rolling continuo line against a lyrical voice. More vocally expressive is Mi lasci dunque where the otherwise tame coloratura of the different other works is expanded, though not overly virtuoso. The performance by the Capella Orlandi of Bremen is well done under the deft hand of Thomas Ihlenfeldt, who knows exactly what this music requires in terms of stylistic nuances. The tempos avoid speed in favor of a more detailed interpretation. The sound, especially the oboes, is clear. Mezzo-soprano Olivia Vermeulen has a nicely sonorous voice, with an excellent precision in terms of phrasing and intonation. In short, this is just the sort of disc that presents Keiser’s music in a fine light and makes one interested to hear more. Highly recommended.