Embodying the Music and Death Nexus

Ich habe genug (I have enough) BWV 82 is one of the best known, most regularly performed and consistently recorded of J.S. Bach's approximately 200 extant sacred cantatas. ¹ In the text, by an anonymous author, the narrator repeatedly expresses their readiness to die, in faith that they will be received by their saviour in eternal life. The whole cantata expresses a fearless ‘longing for death’ (Schweitzer, 1911/1966, p. 114), coupled with a serene contentment. Bach's setting of this text for religious purposes not only supports the sentiments expressed by the narrator but colours, illuminates, vitalises and elevates it in ways that startle the ear, quicken the spirit and stir the imagination. In the third and final aria of the cantata, Bach employs an almost-jaunty dance rhythm to accompany the narrator's anticipatory delight in their own death, liberated from worldly and bodily suffering. After identifying some of the ingenious ways Bach animates the text, I offer some speculations and elaborations as to how and why this work has had such an enduring presence in the Western musical canon, for believers and non-believers alike.

Pre-existing music has been used to underscore the moving image since the days of ‘silent’ film, and this practice is still commonplace today in Hollywood and beyond. Such music may be ‘classical’ or ‘popular’ and can feature within the narrative of a movie diegetically, non-diegetically, or both. With regard to art music in film, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is often the composer of choice, given the popularity and familiarity of many of his compositions. However, his music is employed cinematically in a range of different situations and for a variety of purposes.

In this chapter, I focus on ways in which compositions by Mozart are used to manifest the music and death nexus present in the narrative of three films that were released in different decades. ‘Là ci darem la mano’ from Don Giovanni (1787) features in the first film I analyse, The Picture of Dorian Gray (Albert Lewin, 1945), with the aria being linked to the symbolic death of the moral compass of the protagonist. I then consider the inclusion of music from one of Mozart's symphonies in the storyline of the film Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958), the narrative of which includes the themes of deception and murder. The final film I examine is I am David (Paul Feig, 2003), in which one of the characters sacrifices his life to save that of his friend. Each example encapsulates death as embodied affect, with Mozart's music specifically impacting upon the emotions of the protagonists.

In 1969, the psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross wrote On Death and Dying. In this influential essay, she presented her now-famous 5-stage model of approaching death, which can be modelled into a downward trajectory (1. shock and denial, 2. anger, 3. bargaining, 4. depression) followed by a symmetrical psychological rise (5. acceptance).

In 1888–1894, in response to Hans von Bülow's death, Gustav Mahler composed his Symphony No. 2 (subtitled ‘Resurrection’), in which the idea of death is omnipresent: it opens with a funeral march based on a symphonic poem called Totenfeier (‘Remembrance Ceremony’) containing a Dies Irae motive and closes with a very long finale inspired by Klopstock's Die Auferstehung (The Resurrection). The structure of the finale itself is quite similar to the symmetrical mechanism described by Kübler-Ross, which can be summarised in the symphony by this verse sung by the choir: ‘Sterben werd’ ich, um zu leben!’ (‘I shall die, to live!’). With this ‘death and transfiguration’ movement, the orchestra and the choir embodying the psychological process of a dying subject covers every single step of the model: from a ‘cry of despair’ in the first bar (1. shock) to a horn call without response (2. denial), to the depiction of a rivalry between the Dies Irae motive (‘death’) and what will be the Resurrection theme (3. bargaining), to a grieving section (4. depression) and to a long rising towards an optimistic climax at the end (5. acceptance).

Even though the death acceptance process was far from being formalised in Mahler's days, this symphony shows that more than 75 years before Kübler-Ross, the composer, who had many opportunities to grieve since his youth (facing his brothers' and sisters' deaths), intuitively converted these experiences into an in-depth knowledge of the psychological processes of dying. In other words, after having dealt with the loss of loved ones, Mahler turns out to know how to deal with his own.

While the theme of death in the popular music subgenre of black metal has been written about descriptively, it is less frequent to find conceptual philosophical or theological analyses of death. In this piece, I aim to show how black metal's presentation of death lies in line with death as negation, instilled with strong links to Christianity's mystical apophatic theology. I will argue that this view on death shows it cannot be properly expressed in terms of affirmative language. Even where death is treated as a physical death, rather than metaphorical, it is a celebrated expression of negation. However, unlike the Christian apophatic tradition, black metal's death is not a renunciation of the physical; rather it is a complement to it. In a complex sense, even negating negations, black metal's expression of death is disturbing precisely because of its dual acceptance of death as metaphor and as physically fully realised.

This brief chapter explores my experiences with music and death throughout my cancer treatment. Though I constantly confronted my mortality throughout my cancer treatment, music also helped to distract me from unpleasant, lengthy or boring treatments, as well as helping me to process my feelings about my own mortality. It thus served two distinct purposes, both focusing my mind on death and pain and distancing me from it.

This contribution is an investigation into the palpable connection of extreme metal music and concepts of death, dying and mortality. Like other dark subcultures, metal has an intense infatuation with the macabre; many of its subcultures seek to uncover meaning through musical exploration into varying dark themes that emerge when thinking about death and what lies beyond the bounds of existence. From the abrasive and animalistic blood lust of death metal to the melancholic textures of black metal and the sonic void evoked in doom metal, extreme metal is a catalyst through which fans of the macabre can explore many perceptions and conceptions of corporeal fragility; the consuming pain of life, of death, and of knowing; and the existential notion of the ungraspable abyss. This chapter explores these varying conceptualisations of death in extreme metal culture, their sonic representations and their cathartic consolation: delving into the psychoanalytic reasoning and embodied sound of death.

This study is a queer autoethnography which deconstructs assumptions about a queer musical perspective and the associated heteronormative power and privilege. Using the lens of a Heideggerian interpretive phenomenology, it examines the request for and subsequent actualising or unfolding of musical compositions that respond to works of art. The request, being for a ‘queer compositional response’ to artworks occurred as personal; it touched my experience of being occurring as a kind of existential threat. As such, the personal is clearly political, positioning the experience of the request for queer compositions as a cultural experience which I am examining as socially unjust, or discriminatory. Furthermore, examining the intersectionalities of oppressive heteronormative and sexist attitudes and actions as queer in the world is an authentic mode of being in Heidegger's analytic of Dasein.

‘As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was laying on his hard, as it were armour-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little, he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes’ (Kafka, The Metamorphosis, 1915, p. 19).

Kafka's The Metamorphosis (1915) appears in disability theory to aid explanation for those who experience acquired disability. This allegory offers a visceral picture of what a person can go through; there is a before and an after, a death and a life. I was able-bodied, capable, bursting with energy and then I woke up one morning utterly transformed. I no longer recognise myself; my consciousness mourns my previous existence, and I must come to terms with my reconstituted self.

It is that ‘other’ that I identify with now and, to discover what that means, I began composing a Requiem Mass. I have a long love affair with them; I have sung and conducted them and their ability to pierce the veil between life and death is of particular significance to me. This chapter examines the ways in which my acquired disability, this mystical death, impacts and informs my composition.

In this chapter, we consider music as a tool for emotional regulation in relation to disability, which can be employed to counter the dehumanisation of disabled people that arises from unregulated emotional responses to disability. Responding to Julia Kristeva's presentation of non-disabled encounters with disability as causing a physical or psychical death, Alison Duncan Kerr's arguments on the rationality of regulating emotions in encounters where unregulated emotions have negative effects on the self and others are brought together through Rebecca Jiggens' cultural model of understanding the significance of disability to illustrate the irrationality and moral paucity of ableism. We argue that music can play a role in regulating the emotions typically felt towards the disabled. Kristeva's idea that disability wounds or even kills the abled is insightful, but if we are right, then the tight connection between death and emotional reactions to disability could be overcome through the process of emotion regulation.

For centuries, death has proved itself a well-spring of inspiration for artists and musicians. In particular, an artist's own experiences with death and bereavement often overflow into their creative process, giving birth to artworks which channel grief and embodied experience. Morning Heroes by the British composer Sir Arthur Bliss (1891–1975) is a paradigm of such praxis.

Morning Heroes (1930) was written in memory of Bliss's brother, Kennard, who was killed in action during the First World War. Using an anthology of texts, the work aims to enshrine a universal experience of war for both soldier and civilian and maintains its connection with the British War Requiem through its use of musico-funerary rhetoric. Bliss, who converted to Catholicism during the war, wrote several times in his later life about the spiritual nature of music, specifically its ability to heal and bring peace. It is significant, therefore, that Morning Heroes was to act as a catharsis for Bliss, sublimating his recurring nightmares of the war.

Adopting Douglas Davies' (2017) ‘words against death’ idea, this chapter considers Sir Arthur Bliss's Morning Heroes as ‘music against death’ through an examination of Bliss's use of text and music to craft a requiem in sound. It explores Bliss's use of death rhetoric and embodied experience to create a vehicle for grief and situates this process within the context of his own spiritual philosophies.

Various studies have shown that music plays an important role during contemporary funerals. Most music that sounds during funerals is played because it evokes memories of the deceased (Adamson & Holloway, 2012; Bruin-Mollenhorst, 2018). The music that had played an important role during the life of the deceased becomes an important part of the so-called ‘personalised funerals’ (Bruin-Mollenhorst, 2018). After the funeral, the music often has a ‘special place’ in the life of the next of kin. Referencing bereavement theory and paying special attention to the continuing bonds model (Klass & Steffen, 2018), this chapter explores the music and death nexus by studying the diverse ways in which personalised funeral music is experienced in the period after the funeral, ranging from unexpected and unpleasant confrontations with funeral music to daily experiences of consolation through this music.

The death of John F. Kennedy (JFK) was one of the most remarkable facts of the second half of the twentieth century. Not surprisingly, it was reflected numerous times in popular culture, including in popular music. In this chapter, I discuss songs published in the 1963–1968 period in which the image of JFK was represented as an idea, a cultural motif or a political myth created, transformed and maintained by artistic means. In song lyrics, a real person (who was a genuinely influential politician) was portrayed as a person who acquired a certain mythical status, stemming from JFK's charismatic features and augmented by his tragic death. Thus, separate from the real political career as the president, JFK serves as a kind of mythological structure used by several artists to generate meanings and mirror cultural iconography present in American culture.