Offertory from Officium Defunctorum - Johann Caspar Kerll
Yeah, you know, that household name, on the tip of everyone's tongues, top of the batting averages, swept the Grammys last week.
THAT Johann Caspar Kerll!
Never heard of him? Actually, studies have shown that you are in good (or at least plentiful) company: the majority of people on the planet don't have a clue. (By the way, studies have also shown that over 95% of the studies quoted in these messages have been fabricated.)
Anyway, it turns out that Kerll (1627-1693) was a wonderful composer. He worked at Vienna, Munich and Brussels, and had direct influence upon both Handel, who borrowed material from a number of Kerll's works, and Bach, who arranged a movement from one of Kerll's masses into what is known as BWV 241, a Sanctus in D Major.
I'm thinking about Kerll because we included the Offertory from his Officium Defunctorum (Mass for the Dead) in our 'Never to Forget' concerts this past weekend. What a piece! As you might recall--perhaps from Mozart's Requiem--this Requiem Offertory presents various horrible scenarios for the departed souls for whom the faithful are praying. We beg that they be liberated from the lion's jaws, from the pains of hell, that they not be cast down into the dark regions.
And then the prayer turns positive, as St. Michael is implored to lead the souls into the light, as promised to Abraham and his descendants forever.
It's a scenario filled with cosmic strife, a battle between good and evil, and composers typically pull out all the stops. Mozart sure did. Here's a good recording of the Offertory from his Requiem.
But Kerll is not far behind. His setting is madrigalian in its vivid evocation of each twist and turn of the prayer, beginning with a cry to be heard, continuing with pathetic pleas for liberation from that lion's mouth, chromatic crunches to represent the pains of hell, falling lines to adumbrate the dreaded tumbling into darkness, a tentative and then a more certain vision of St. Michael bearing his standard, and in fine a triumphant musical depiction of triumph and deliverance.
Wow! And all this with just a 5-part choir and a 5-piece string ensemble.
You gotta check it out. I am attaching a score, a great recording, and a text-translation sheet. Sit down by the fire with a glass of your favorite beverage (some sort of tea might be nice, or perhaps a single-malt) and jump onboard. It's quite a ride.
(Just don't let your toes get scorched.)
Yeah, you know, that household name, on the tip of everyone's tongues, top of the batting averages, swept the Grammys last week.
THAT Johann Caspar Kerll!
Never heard of him? Actually, studies have shown that you are in good (or at least plentiful) company: the majority of people on the planet don't have a clue. (By the way, studies have also shown that over 95% of the studies quoted in these messages have been fabricated.)
Anyway, it turns out that Kerll (1627-1693) was a wonderful composer. He worked at Vienna, Munich and Brussels, and had direct influence upon both Handel, who borrowed material from a number of Kerll's works, and Bach, who arranged a movement from one of Kerll's masses into what is known as BWV 241, a Sanctus in D Major.
I'm thinking about Kerll because we included the Offertory from his Officium Defunctorum (Mass for the Dead) in our 'Never to Forget' concerts this past weekend. What a piece! As you might recall--perhaps from Mozart's Requiem--this Requiem Offertory presents various horrible scenarios for the departed souls for whom the faithful are praying. We beg that they be liberated from the lion's jaws, from the pains of hell, that they not be cast down into the dark regions.
And then the prayer turns positive, as St. Michael is implored to lead the souls into the light, as promised to Abraham and his descendants forever.
It's a scenario filled with cosmic strife, a battle between good and evil, and composers typically pull out all the stops. Mozart sure did. Here's a good recording of the Offertory from his Requiem.
But Kerll is not far behind. His setting is madrigalian in its vivid evocation of each twist and turn of the prayer, beginning with a cry to be heard, continuing with pathetic pleas for liberation from that lion's mouth, chromatic crunches to represent the pains of hell, falling lines to adumbrate the dreaded tumbling into darkness, a tentative and then a more certain vision of St. Michael bearing his standard, and in fine a triumphant musical depiction of triumph and deliverance.
Wow! And all this with just a 5-part choir and a 5-piece string ensemble.
You gotta check it out. I am attaching a score, a great recording, and a text-translation sheet. Sit down by the fire with a glass of your favorite beverage (some sort of tea might be nice, or perhaps a single-malt) and jump onboard. It's quite a ride.
(Just don't let your toes get scorched.)