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.

Concerts at home

The Handel Seminar Continues,

Handel blog 9*

Handel’s house on Brook Street, London.

From Katherine:  Recently one of the Met’s great sopranos, Joyce DiDonato, who had performed in Handel’s Agrippina, was forced to abandon rehearsals for Massenet’s Werner as the coronavirus swept through New York City.  She and her co-star, Piotr Beczala, performed arias from Werner in DiDonato’s apartment living room.  You can see some of that performance here.  It reminded me of one of Lydia’s comments in a letter to Handel.  She wrote: I”I especially appreciate your inviting me to the Messiah rehearsal at Brook Street.” (p. 447) Brook Street was, of course, Handel’s home, and he frequently held rehearsals in his music room rather than at the concert halls where the public performances would occur.  If you remember from the movie The Great Mr. Handel, they include a scene in which Susannah Cibber supposedly sings the aria “Ombra mia fu” in Handel’s parlor.  That aria was sung by Xerxes, not the soprano lead, but no matter.  If you want to watch the movie, you can find it here.

From Alison:  There have, even more generally, been some creative online activities in response to this pandemic. With everyone sheltering in place and so many musicians cut off from opportunities to rehearse or perform, there have been many creative online presentations, some individual but some amazingly collaborative.  People are finding they can get together online and still make music.  You can read just one of the many articles about this recent phenomenon here.

From CD:  Yes, people have had to be resourceful in figuring out ways to keep the music going.  I know a lot of students in the music school here at IU were especially worried about practicing if they had no access to, say, a piano.  I read an interesting article in the local paper about one solution to the problem.  You can read about it here.

From Katherine:  You can tour Handel’s house on Brook Street and see where he held these rehearsals—or at least you could before this coronavirus hit.  But you can read about it here.  Until next time, everyone, stay safe. 

*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.

A Silesian folk tune

Songs and Scenes, ,

Is it possible that Handel knew the Silesian folk tune usually called the Crusaders’ Hymn? The tune is that old, but this was before composers were fond of adapting folk melodies into their compositions. In any case, here for your Easter listening, is my rendition of the Crusaders’ Hymn, or Fairest Lord Jesus, along with images of Spring, mostly from my neighborhood. I hope you enjoy the song, and I hope your day is a good one.