Tag Archives: Handel

Relationships during Covid-19

Handel blog 15*

Forgive me, please forgive me

From Katherine:  I recently heard from a much younger friend about her difficulty in maintaining a good relationship with her longtime boyfriend during this pandemic.  I can imagine all kinds of scenarios that are especially stressful—all the way from people isolated all by themselves to families overwhelmed by too many people in too little space.  My friend’s situation was one in which just the two of them were suddenly spending a lot more time together.  Tempers flared, old jealousies reemerged, bad habits aggravated—you get the picture.  Believe it or not, I thought of one of Handel’s operas that I recommended she watch—both as a diversion and as a kind of couple’s advice.  Remember our discussion of Handel’s Partenope?   You can order a DVD of the production we saw here.

Let me quote what Ross said about it:  “Maybe part of the reason Handel was compelled to put on this opera was that he appreciated the advantage that having a loyal partner could bring.  After all, at the close of the opera, the four main characters all seem to have learned something about what makes a marriage relationship good.  Maybe Handel was resigned to enjoying such a relationship vicariously—through the lives of his dramatic characters.” (p. 321) As I recall, Forella jumped in to tease Ross about unexpectedly promoting the virtues of marriage, or something like that.  What’s the story, Ross?

From Ross:  Well, you know the dust had hardly settled on my marriage’s demise.  What can you expect?  But I still believe what I said then.  It is a good opera, and the production we saw was great—although I do agree with some of the reviewers who complain about the filming for the DVD.  Still, Handel really did give each of the characters arias that honed in on the problems of love relationships.  My favorite aria was “Ch’io parta” where the hero asks, “must I part?  I go, but leave with you my heart.”   A great song, even in Italian. Here is Philippe Jaroussky singing it in concert. I liked this lighter opera better than the ones that emphasized some sort of serious historical issue.  Handel would have been a good musical theater composer—like Richard Rogers—don’t you think?

From Alison: Yes, “Ch’io parta” is a wonderful aria.  There were several other really good arias in that opera.  What I find interesting about that particular aria is that its music was recently cast in a pastiche opera—The Enchanted Island—as a song expressing an amazingly effective plea for forgiveness at the end of the drama.  Prospero sings, “Forgive me, please forgive me.”  You can see more about the Met production here.  Actually more than half of the songs used in that pastiche were from various Handel operas.  You can see the list of arias here. The creator of the opera, Jeremy Sams, said that he found Handel’s works the best source for the songs he included in his pastiche.  Handel’s arias seem to really work as love songs. 

From CD:  Indeed they do.  And I loved they way they included Handel’s “Zadok, the Priest” when Placido Domingo entered as the god Neptune.  But best of all, in my opinion, was the song that took the Handel aria “Pena tiranna” from Amadigi di Gaula and rewrote the words as “We like to wrestle destiny.” Prospero sings, “Seeking forgiveness, hoping for harmony, I have sown discord where there was none. Heartbreak and discord where there was none. . . . What have I wrought here, ah, what have I done?” You can read the full libretto of this new English language pastiche here. 

From Katherine:  I think I will watch that Met production of The Enchanted Island again—and tell my friend about it as well.  But it is well worth going back to Handel’s Partenope for some lessons on how to manage relationships during this time of coronavirus.  I think his characters in the opera learn that what is needed is patience, empathy, forgiveness, and a little playfulness.  Handel—the self-help writer.  Stay well, everyone.

*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.

Wayfaring stranger

Would Handel have known the hymn that became known as Wayfaring Stranger?  Many argue that it is an American folksong from the 19th century, but others suggest it might have been a hymn popular in late 18th-century Germany.  It is unlikely that Handel knew the song, but I expect he would have liked its message of assurance—just as in the first words of his Messiah: “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people . . . ” Here is my rendition of this consoling song.

Comfort ye, Comfort ye my people . . . .

For the record

Handel blog 12*

Grave marker with willow and urn

From Angela:  Forella asked me to send this along to our group.  Fortunately for us, Forella’s townhouse is large enough that our little “family” is sheltering in place pretty comfortably, with me on the lower level, Forella on the main floor, and Annie and Randolph on the upper floor.  We come together for meals and some activities, but the balance of together and alone time is really good.  My heart goes out to those who have no such safe and comfortable place to call home.  Anyway, Forella wanted to raise an issue that came up after she learned of yet another of her friends dying from the coronavirus.  This most recent friend was younger, just in her early seventies, and she hadn’t made any plans for what her family should do if she died.  This was the issue Forella raised:  how do you make a memorial marker or somehow permanently honor someone who dies and is cremated?  How do we celebrate the life of someone who dies during this pandemic?

From Katherine:  Thank you, Angela, for writing this out for us.  Forella told me later that she had especially appreciated a comment you made while you were discussing the issue.  You said, sadly, that both of your parents died young and were buried in a cemetery in your hometown.  You found the knowledge that you could go visit their graves comforting.  She said you didn’t do it often, but knowing that you could was something you treasured.  Some religious traditions find it troubling if there is no actual body to bury, if, for example, the individual is cremated.  But I think another issue really is, as Forella suggested, a matter of where there is a record, a visible sign that someone has died and is honored or remembered by others. It is comforting to those left behind to have this tangible connection.  Even when a family chooses cremation rather than burial, the survivors often want some place or object or marker that will always serve as a connection to the departed person.

From Ross:  I remember that Mother and I talked at some length about grave markers after our trip over to Cincinnati, when Rosie was married in the chapel at Spring Grove cemetery.  Some of the statuary there was very elaborate, probably rather like the statue Roubiliac designed some few years after Handel died and had placed as a memorial in Westminster Abbey.  But I was interested to see, when I visited the Abbey, that Handel’s actual grave was marked with a black marble gravestone on the floor in the south transept of the cathedral.  The statue was above along with other famous people honored in the Poet’s Corner.  You can read a little more about the statue here.

From Rayette:  We did have a discussion about cemeteries back when we were reading the letters.  I remember thinking even then about all the people who died but were never remembered with a headstone or marker of any kind.  (p. 342).  It is good that cremation has become more acceptable, I think.  It isn’t as expensive, and people can ask to have the ashes of their loved one placed in an urn or a necklace.  You can read about some of the alternatives to burial here.  Of course some people still want a specific place, such as a mausoleum or columbarium.  I agree with Angela.  It is comforting to know that you can always go reconnect with people who have died by visiting their graves.  Grave markers offer us little short biographies, sometimes with symbolic figures or biblical verses carved on them.  I don’t think my children would like it if I just wanted to have my ashes scattered to the wind.

From Katherine:  Handel was unusual in having had a wonderful statue made of him well before his dying day.  I saw the statue at the Victoria and Albert Museum.  I’ll attach a photo below.  Normally statues were created after a famous person died, just as the one at Westminster Abbey was some three years after Handel died. But today people often select their gravestones well in advance and decide what they want carved or inscribed on it.  Some of the symbols have long traditions.  You can read about some of them here.  We haven’t really solved the issue of how to keep a remembrance of those who have died, especially if they have chosen to be cremated.  Perhaps that is a topic for another time.  I am sorry, Forella, that you have lost another friend.  May we all stay safe and well.

Handel statue at the Victoria and Albert Museum

*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.