LES MORTES DES ARTES

ARTISTIC DEPICTIONS OF DEATH vary from the peaceful to the horrific. This profoundity came to mind in reading “ ‘Lost Demon’ Uncovered in Joshua Reynolds Painting,” by Ian Youngs in BBC News, October 31, 2023. 

The Death of Cardinal Beaufort, by Joshua Reynolds, 1789. The painting, now restored to its original, shows Lords Warwick and Salisbury and King Henry VI witnessing the agonizing death of Cardinal Beaufort. This and following images from BBC News.

Youngs notes that the Reynolds work “was based on a scene in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, Part II, and depicts the power-hungry and conspiring cardinal in the final throes of death. In the play, King Henry laments the cardinal–his great uncle’s–death, saying: ‘O! beat away the busy, meddling fiend that lays siege unto this wretch’s soul.’” 

A Fiend Missing for More Than Two Centuries. First shown at the Shakespeare Gallery in 1789, Youngs recounts, “That ‘fiend’s’ inclusion in the picture stirred controversy at the time it was created because some thought Sir Joshua–considered one of the greatest painters of his age–should not have explicitly shown an imaginary creature.”

“Over the years,” Youngs says, “the disputed figure has faded into the shadows, as the artwork was overpainted and given numerous layers of varnish by restorers.”

Before and after the fiend’s reappearance.

A Dramatic Operatic Demise. In Francis Polenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites, the Mother Superior’s death in Act 1 is particularly moving: Wikipedia recounts, “The Mother Superior passes away in great agony, shouting in her delirium that despite her long years of service to God, He has abandoned her.” It’s shattering, both for the Carmelite nuns as well as for theater-goers.

Karita Mattila portrays the dying Mother Superior in a Metropolitan Opera production of Carmélites. Image by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera. 

To this day I vividly recall Karita Mattila’s memorable performance in the Metropolitan Opera HD’s 2019 presentation of Carmélites.

A Poet’s View. Dylan Thomas is remembered for Under Milk Wood, A Child’s Christmas in Wales, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog, and Fern Hill.

Dylan Marlais Thomas, 1914–1953. Welsh poet and writer. 

He also wrote a memorable poem in response to his father’s last days. It begins, “Do not go gentle into that good night,/ Old age should burn and rave at the close of day;/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

Powerful thoughts on the matter.

A Less-than-profound Aside. This has nothing to do with artistic demises; instead it involves Dylan Thomas: While attending WPI, I was chosen as the alternative member of its four-student team participating in the G.E. College Bowl TV competition. As part of the deal, we were hosted for a couple days in New York City.

As a spiff for participation, our team and its two professors got to see a Broadway show, in particular Dylan. Wikipedia notes, “At the 18th Tony Awards, Dylan was nominated for Best Play, and earned Alec Guinness (in the title role) the award for best performance.”

Guinness’s portrayal of Welshman Dylan Thomas particularly caught my ear: His chosen accent reminded me of Shenandoah, Pennsylvania, the coal-mining town whence my parents originated. (I didn’t come along until they had moved to Cleveland). 

Shenandoah, it seemed, had its share of Eastern European immigrants who learned their English from other miners—predominately Welshmen. How welcoming it seemed, I thought at the time, that the poet sounded like he came from my parents’ home town. ds 

© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays.com, 2023