Category Archives: The Handel Seminar Continues

A continuation of topics and dialogues introduced in The Handel Letters: A Biographical Conversation, by Sandra K. Dolby.

And sigh for freedom

The Handel Seminar Continues, ,

Handel blog 5*

From Katherine:  This isolation is definitely beginning to be irksome, even to an introvert like me.  The practice of quarantining people who have a contagious illness and requiring people who are well to isolate themselves is one that became common as the Plague swept through parts of Europe in the mid-1600s, shortly before Handel was born in 1685.  It did help in bringing an end to the spread of the Plague, though that disease was quite different from the current COVID-19.  One of Handel’s most famous arias voiced a longing for freedom—“Lascia ch’io pianga.” Or, as the opening words translate: “Let me weep over my cruel fate and sigh for freedom.” The aria is from Rinaldo, but the beautiful melody is the one our Lydia first heard while Handel was still in Hamburg, before he went to Italy.  Then it became the song she most associated with Handel:  “Lascia la spina—leave the thorn but take the rose.  Such a beautiful piece.” (p. 509) I guess its message–that we should try to avoid the bad and grasp what is good and beautiful–is timely. 

From Clara:  I remember trying to play that melody on my cello back when we first talked about it.  The more popular words from Rinaldo were actually the ones sung by the castrato Farinelli in the movie—remember, where Handel supposedly faints from the sheer beauty of hearing Farinelli sing the aria.  I found a clip of him singing it.  You can hear it here. A friend on campus told me that the voice in the movie was actually a combination of a soprano and tenor rather than a modern countertenor as you might expect.  I may have to watch the movie again.

From Brad:  Isn’t that the movie that had some pretty sexy scenes in it, at least at the beginning?  Here’s some information on the film.  I think I should be able to stream it to my TV.  The night will not be wasted.

From Katherine:  I may have to watch it as well.  Thanks, everyone.  Maybe we will have a collaborative movie review next time.  Stay well.

*All posts listed as “Handel blog” are texts that use the fictional characters in my book The Handel Letters: A Biographical Conversation.  As in that book, the posts will often reference things from Handel’s life or time period as starting points.  And the post will cite a page or paragraph in the book when it seems relevant.   Find The Handel Letters.

Portraits

The Handel Seminar Continues

Handel blog 4*

From Katherine:  Forella reminded me that a lot of us who are in the most “vulnerable” age bracket with COVID-19—and I guess that would be all of us except Angela—a lot of us are thinking more seriously about what we would want to leave our loved ones if we do in fact succumb to this new pestilence.  We all recognize a shortened time horizon as we get older, but this coronavirus has spurred many to write a will, just as Handel did when he had that first bout of paralysis.  His decision to leave a gift of money to his perfumer, James Smyth, was one that he made just shortly before he died, but interestingly, Handel had decided several years before his final days to gift some of his wealthier friends and some of his relatives with a few of the fine portraits that had been painted of him over the years.

From CD:  I remember seeing the painting of Handel by Balthasar Denner at the National Portrait Gallery on one of my trips to England.  If I remember correctly, he had given the picture to his friend and associate, John Smith, Jr. 

From Peter:  Lydia wrote to Handel in one of her letters about this generous bestowing of portraits.  She said, “And I, my friend, will always treasure the lovely miniature portrait I have of you as a very young man.  It is one of my dearest possessions.  Edward and I were so honored to be gifted with this reminder of our youthful friendship.  I am sure your relatives in Saxony were pleased with the portraits you carried to them as well.”(p. 467) Rather than portraits in oil, now we mostly have smaller photographs in eight by ten frames if we want to display pictures of beloved family members.  Large painted portraits typically are reserved for important heads of state and the like although museums are full of those often finely done portraits.  They were probably more flattering than photographs would be.  Does anyone have any family portraits that carry on the larger, more imposing portrait tradition?

From Wait:  My sister has a picture of our grandmother that was, I think, her engagement portrait.  It’s pretty big—like 16” by 20”—and in an elaborate frame.  My sister asked to have it when my grandmother died.  I’ll send a photo of it you can insert here.

From Katherine:  Thanks for the comments everyone—and the pictures.  More tomorrow.

*All posts listed as “Handel blog” are texts that use the fictional characters in my book The Handel Letters: A Biographical Conversation.  As in that book, the posts will often reference things from Handel’s life or time period as starting points.  And the post will cite a page or paragraph in the book when it seems relevant.   Find The Handel Letters.

Coronavirus masks

Sparks from Science and Society, The Handel Seminar Continues,

Handel blog 3*

From Katherine:  Well, we talked about the Plague song “O du lieber Augustin” last time.  I’ve seen quite a few songs popping up on social media—either parodies that reference the coronavirus or sometimes simply old songs meant to distract us from our worries.  But today I wanted to bring together comments some of you have made about masks—the surgical masks now in such demand in so many public contexts.  I’ve seen several articles commenting on the beak-like “doctors’ masks” that were seen as a symbol of the Plague in the early 1700s.  The “doctor’s mask” was even used as a clue in the 2017 Disney movie Beauty and the Beast—a sign that Belle’s mother had died of the plague.  I expect the Handel-era doctor’s mask served a different purpose than the surgical masks we have today.  What do you think?

Circa 1656, A plague doctor in protective clothing. The beak mask held spices thought to purify air, the wand was used to avoid touching patients. Original Artwork: Engraving by Paul Furst after J Colombina (Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

From Rebecca:  Masks have been connected with healing in cultures throughout the world—think of the stereotypical witch doctor wearing a colorful mask.  But there are much more serious meanings associated with the use of masks.  I find it interesting to hear some of the beliefs about the wearing of protective masks today.  And there is even a kind of folk craft springing up—people making their own masks or producing some to help out with the shocking shortage of face masks here in the US.  You can read about some of the information on making masks here.

From Peter:  I did a little research on the doctor’s mask we associate with the Great Plague.  By the time Handel was living in London, from the early to mid-1700s, the beak-like doctor’s mask had fallen out of use, but interestingly some of the reasons for its emergence in the first place remained a part of the culture.  It seems the beak protuberance part of the mask was actually filled with various herbs or spices that supposedly protected the wearer from illness—well, THE illness, the plague.  I assume the spices did at least smell better then whatever the doctor was encountering where ever he went.  Anyway, along with that tie to the mask itself, there was also a general belief among physicians and their patients that certain smells carried medical benefits.  What we think of as perfumes today were regarded as a kind of medicine back then.  One article I read said this about such cures in the 1700s: “Recipes in pharmacopoeias confirm that physicians believed in the medicinal properties of perfumes.”  You can read about it here.

From Katherine:  That is fascinating, Peter.  It brings to mind the more modern practice of aromatherapy with its use of essential oils.  You can read about aromatherapy here.  But it also made me think of Handel and one of the last people who saw him before he died—his friend and neighbor James Smyth (see p. 57 in The Handel Letters). James Paul Smyth was a perfumer.  My guess is that he was there as both a comfort and a kind of Hospice health care worker, bringing the oils and perfumes that represented this medicinal part of his trade.  Handel was clearly grateful for Smyth’s services.  He left James Smyth a substantial bequest in his will. 

I think that is it for today.  Stay well.

*All posts listed as “Handel blog” are texts that use the fictional characters in my book The Handel Letters: A Biographical Conversation.  As in that book, the posts will often reference things from Handel’s life or time period as starting points.  And the post will cite a page or paragraph in the book when it seems relevant.   Find The Handel Letters.