Tag Archives: Handel

For the record

Sparks from Science and Society, ,

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.

Masks: Death Mask

The Handel Seminar Continues, , ,

Handel blog 10*

Handel Death Mask

From Katherine:  There has been much talk of the need for cloth or surgical masks during this pandemic.  And we considered the role of the Doctor’s mask during the last of the Plague years in Europe.  Our Handel discussion raises the issue of yet another kind of mask.  Two hundred sixty-one years ago on this day (April 14, 1759), George Frideric Handel died at his Brook Street home in London.  Some biographers claim that a “death mask” was cast of his face and that this mask was used as a model in creating the monument erected in his honor at Westminster Abbey.  Others dispute this claim, saying it was instead a “life mask,” one created while he was still alive.  Either way, it poses the question of just what such a mask is and how it would have been fashioned from the face of a person, living or dead.

From Clara:  I didn’t know there was a “death mask” of Handel, but –and I know you will all find this a bit bizarre—I have followed some blogs that talk about death masks or life masks.  I find the idea of recording a person’s features through a cast rather than by photography fascinating.  You can see a fun, yes, fun, discussion of the topic here.  I think some other famous people have had death masks or life masks.  If you watch the YouTube video I mentioned by Caitlin Doughty, you will see how difficult it would be to actually create such a thing, especially a life mask.

From Peter:  I found a source that challenges the idea that the “mask” of Handel was made as a cast of his face at all.  The author of this article says the supposed mask was more likely made from a sculpted likeness, a statue of Handel made by an artist.  You can read his argument here.

From Brad:  So, some 260 years ago today was the day our man Handel died.  At least he was in his own home.   And I suppose his death wasn’t entirely unexpected.  Not like Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper—wiped out in a plane crash.  Still, I guess we could say that for people in Handel’s time, it was sort of  “the day the music died,” right?

From Katherine:  I suppose so, Brad.  Fortunately, Handel’s scores of music survive.  But Handel was also an outstanding musician.  I imagine those who heard him play the organ or harpsichord would agree that losing Handel the performer was a major loss even though Handel the composer lives on.  Creating music has many dimensions.   Thanks for joining us on this April 14th—Handel’s death day.

*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.

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.