crysania4: (Default)
Carlo Gesualdo was a late Renaissance era composer. I was introduced to his music as an undergraduate during my first music history class. I love all Renaissance era music and I think most people know that. I still remember my first introduction my freshman year (a work by Palestrina called Stabat Mater -- maybe I'll post about that one later). But then in class, I got to hear Gesualdo's music and I was totally fascinated by it.

Gesualdo was the Prince of Venosa. He didn't want to be the Prince of Venosa, but was so named when his older brother died. Gesualdo's one true passion was music. He had what he called a music mania. He also suffered from depression, which got increasingly worse throughout his life.

Gesualdo is most famous, perhaps, for something non-musical however. He got married in 1586 to a woman who was, apparently, quite beautiful. Two years after they got married, she began an affair with a Duke. She managed to keep it secret from Gesualdo for two years (there were some rumors that he was uninterested in the sexual side of the marriage, but was more interested in young boys). But he did find out. And in true operatic fashion, he told her he was going away on a hunting trip, had the locks changed so he could enter from the outside, and returned at night with three of his men. They found his wife in bed with her lover. And they killed them both. Gesualdo himself killed his wife. After she was dead, he left briefly but returned and, according to the men, said he didn't believe she was dead. And then stabbed her 28 more times. He then dragged their bodies down the stairs and left them there.

Being Prince, he was immune to prosecution, but not revenge, so he got the hell out of there and headed to his castle. Where, over several months, he chopped down the forest. One tree at a time.

And you wonder why I find him so fascinating?

At any rate, because he was a nobleman and had no one to answer to, his music was incredibly experimental for his time. The chord progressions used and his heavy dose of text painting (musically depicting the words) were not seen again until quite late in the 19th century. He's a fascinating figure and I love his music.

I still remember my philosophy class in college. My professor insisted that composers were not creative, were not unique, that they were all imitating each other. While this is obviously wrong in so many ways (if this were true, we'd still be writing Gregorian chant), I cited Gesualdo as a case of a composer far out of his time (one could also cite Berlioz and Ives, but I chose someone radically different from those around him) and dared him to think he sounded like Palestrina. I saw the professor over at the music school taking out some recordings. And he never brought the issue up again.

The text of Gesualdo's madrigals were believed to have been written by him and show the torment he was living in. Many of the texts deal with death, pain, and the not so happy side of love.

A couple examples of his music:

Moro Lasso, al mio duolo I play this one for my class. The English translation of the text is as follows:

I die, alas, in my suffering,
And she who could give me life,
Alas, kills me and will not help me.

O sorrowful fate,
She who could give me life,
Alas, gives me death.


---

Io tacerĂ², ma nel silenzio mio This particular version is the one used in the great video about Gesualdo's life called Gesualdo: Death in Five Voices. Highly recommended video! I play it for my class whenever I talk about him. The English translation of the text is as follows:

I shall be silent, but in my silence
Tears and sighs,
Will tell of my tortures.
But if it should happen that I should die,
Death himself will cry out again for me.


Happy stuff, eh? I hope, despite its depressing subject matter, you'll enjoy it!
crysania4: (Default)
I meant to post this one yesterday with the other quotes from the Beethoven book I'm reading.

From Grillparzer's Oration at Beethoven's Funeral
March 29, 1827

As we stand here at the grave of this departed, we are, as it were, the representatives of a whole nation, of the entire German people, mourning the fall of the one highly celebrated half of what remained to us of the vanished splendour of native art, the flower of our country's spirit. True, the hero of poetry in the German language [Goethe] is with us still--and long may he remain with us! But the last Master of resounding song, the sweet lips that gave expression to the art of tones, the heir and successor of Handel's and Bach's, of Haydn's and Mozart's immortal game, has ended his life, and we stand weeping beside the tattered strings of the silent instrument.

Of the silent instrument! Let me call him so! For he was an artist, and all that he was he became only by virtue of his art. The thorns of life had wounded him deeply, and as the shipwrecked cling to the shore, so he fled into thy arms, glorious sister alike of goodness and truth, consoler of the suffering. Art, whose origins are above. He held fast to thee, and even when the gate was closed through which thou hadst entered into him and hadst spoken to him, when he had grown blind to thy features because of his deaf ears, still he bore thy image in his heart, and when he died still it lay upon his breast.

He was an artist, and who can bear comparison with him?

As Behemoth rushes, tempestuous, over the oceans, so he flew over the frontiers of his art. From the cooing of doves to the rolling of thunder, from the most subtle interweaving of the self-determined media of his art to the awe-inspiring point where the consciously formed merges in the lawless violence of the striving forces of Nature, all these he exhausted, all these he took in his stride. Whoever comes after him will not be able to continue, he will have to begin again, for his predecessor ended only where art itself must end...

He was an artist, but he was a man, too, a man in every, in the highest sense. Because he shut himself off from the world, they called him malevolent, and because he avoided sentiment, they called him unfeeling. Oh, the man who knows himself to be hard does not flee! The finest points are those which are most easily blunted, bent or broken. Excessive sensibility recoils from sentiment. He fled the world because in the whole realm of his loving nature he could find no weapon with which to oppose it. He withdrew from men after he had given them everything and received nothing in return. He remained solitary because he could find no second I. But even unto his grave he preserved a human heart for all who are human, a paternal heart for those who were his kin, himself as a heritage to the whole world.

Thus he lived, thus he died, thus he shall live for ever.

Beethoven

Dec. 22nd, 2009 10:05 am
crysania4: (Default)
First of all...sorry for being Miss Posty this morning. I have a lot to say I guess. I found all this stuff last night that I wanted to post this morning! I would have posted SOME of it last night but I couldn't get my laptop to connect via the wireless connection at OCC and the main computer in the room has a really loud keyboard so I didn't want to type too much.

Anyway...

I've been reading this book called "Beethoven: Letters, Journals, and Conversations." It's basically a collections of Beethoven's own letters to various people (patrons, publishers, and friends), some of Beethoven's notes jotted down in journals or on calendars, and some reminiscences from others at the time who knew him. It creates a fascinating picture of the man. I've copied down some of my favourite passages and have put them behind the cut for anyone interested!

A little bit of Beethoven stuff )

Edited to add: I forgot to include this little tidbit I read on a website about Beethoven: Medical science is divided as to whether Beethoven's deafness was due to direct damage to the auditory nerve (sensori-neural deafness) or to thickening and fixation of the bones which conduct sound through the middle ear (otosclerosis).

Otosclerosis? That's what I have. That's what is causing my hearing problems in my left ear. So glad they have a surgery that can fix it now!

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