Tempesta di Mare's Hamburg concert

In his book Maritime Supremacy and the Opening of the Western Mind, the British naval historian Peter Padfield applies the term “merchant government” to the political systems of the Dutch Republic and 18th-Century England. Both countries were republics with governments dominated by business interests. If you throw in the peak eras of Athens, Venice, Florence and Hamburg, you can make a good case for the virtues of that kind of arrangement. All were places where citizens enjoyed a high level of prosperity and, by historical standards, an exceptional degree of personal freedom.

These societies are even associated with cultural landmarks, such as Handel’s oratorios and the paintings of the Dutch masters. As Gwyn Roberts and Richard Stone noted in the program for the latest Tempesta di Mare concert, 18th-Century Hamburg fielded an orchestra that could vie with the more famous orchestras funded by the aristocratic courts of that period. The city’s leaders supported the arts for the same reason some modern metropolises build new concert halls and generate organizations with names like the Center for a Creative Economy. They believed a flourishing cultural scene would attract more “movers and shakers of the financial world” and consequently bolster their economy.

A princeling’s appetite for pomp

For this concert, Tempesta crowded the performance area with 22 instruments, including timpani. The opening Graupner Sinfonia in G started with an all-out allegro, complete with timpani and horns, that would have satisfied any German princeling’s hunger for tasteful pomp and quality musicianship. The slow movement provided the usual contrast, and the allegro returned to the high-style flourishes of the opening.

The second item on the program was Ouverture No. 6 in G Minor, by a highly respected Baroque composer, Phillip Heinrich-Erlebach. It was a solid piece of Baroque writing but the most intriguing item in the first half was the closer, C.P.E. Bach’s “Hamburg” Symphony.

Bach’s second son is usually considered an early classical composer. In that role, with his scores played on modern instruments, he frequently sounds too smooth for my taste. He could also be considered a late Baroque composer, however, and he might fare better today if he were. His work sounds a lot more interesting played on the drier, somewhat nasal Baroque instruments that Tempesta plays.

What is a ‘modern world premiere’?

The second half opened with a “modern world premiere”— the term Tempesta applies to works receiving their first performance since a misguided devotion to progress terminated the glories of the Baroque era. Reinhard Keiser’s Concerto in D is a unique mixture of a suite and a flute concerto. It opens with a thumping allegro for strings and woodwinds and follows that with an adagio and a lively vivace that are played almost without a break. The long aria section in the middle opens with the solo flute making a lovely entrance over plucked strings and includes passages like a neat bit in which the flute and the harpsichord strike single, bird-like notes together. A short grave follows the aria, and the concerto ends with a racing presto in which the flute soloist rejoins the woodwind ensemble.

It was one of the best modern premieres Tempesta has presented, and a great vehicle for flutist Gwyn Roberts, even if she does spend the first few minutes waiting for her entrance.

The evening ended with another winner: Telemann’s Concerto in F, which brought the timpanis and horns back to the spotlight and sported a parade of flashy, high-spirited violin solos by concertmaster Emlyn Ngai.

Social critics used to disparage Broadway musicals by calling them entertainment “for the tired businessman.” If Tempesta di Mare’s sample is reasonably representative, the burghers of Hamburg supported music for energetic merchant princes who were just as musically sophisticated as the hereditary kind.