From Wikipedia:
“Carlo Gesualdo da Venosa (c. 30 March 1566 – 8 September 1613) was Prince of Venosa and Count of Conza. As a composer he is known for writing madrigals and pieces of sacred music that use a chromatic language not heard again until the late 19th century.”
Also from Wikipedia:
“He is also known for killing his first wife and her aristocratic lover upon finding them in flagrante delicto (a legal term used to indicate that a criminal has been caught in the act of committing an offence).”
Soooo…yea. Carlo Gesualdo was a murderer, which you would think would make me turn away. Quite the opposite, I can’t stop looking. The music this man made after his horrific act was extraordinary - it is the most beautiful, haunting music I have ever heard.
From what I gather from my rather extensive research into the man, he was a gifted composer who understood chromatic complexities well beyond his time. That, however, is not what led him to create his masterpieces. One night, he found his wife sleeping with another man, and in an act of insane rage and jealousy, he killed them both. By chopping them into pieces. The most insane part about the situation was, it was 100% legal at the time. Gesualdo faced no penalty for his actions, other than being driven into madness for the rest of his life.
After the killings in 1590, strange reports surrounded Gesualdo for the rest of his life - abuse, sadomasochism, occult practices, you name it. He continued on to create what can only be described as other-worldly music. The madness, the insanity, the guilt, the sadness - all of these reverberate through every chromatic note of Gesualdo’s pieces. On top of that, most of his music is choral - voices only - which only adds to the chilling tones. Gesualdo invites us into his own personal hell, and the wild part about it is, the darkness is beautiful.
If you don’t believe me, take a listen below (for all of you pop-music listeners, this may sound like gibberish church music, but why not give it a try?):
Yea, it’s weird as shit, but I honestly do love it. I like to listen to Gesualdo in periods of deep reflection, in seasons of mourning and sadness and when the brutality of life is especially resonant. Obviously, I don’t condone murder - it is the single most evil crime a man can commit. Needless to say, the experience is quite confusing.
I often wonder how something so beautiful could come from such evil. The answer to that question is above my pay-grade, but I like to think that’s how life works. It’s the dance of the yin/yang on full display…
The brightest light is hidden in the darkness, and the deepest darkness is hidden in the light.