Perdendosi

  

Edmund de Waal, ceramicist, writer, poet.

The term ​perdendosi refers to the musical process which almost always comes at the end of a piece and directs sound, rhythm and tone to gradually fade and die away. On my Easter theatre trip to Cambridge with U3A, I took the opportunity to visit Kettle’s Yard and go to the wonderful Lucie Rie exhibition.

                             From the Kettle’s Yard shop I bought a beautiful little book, Perdendosi. 

This is a collaborative work by photographer Norman McBeath with ceramicist, artist and writer Edmund de Waal. It is a study of leaves at the stage of their transformation when they have lost all colour, and become more like parchment than plant, taking up the most extraordinary shapes, giving the leaves unique identities and character. Many of the superb photographs were taken at the start of the pandemic in a time of daily news of increasing deaths and infections. Although not a direct response, this period did have

Norman McBeath: photographer, printmaker.

a profound influence on how Norman McBeath saw the leaves.

Edmund de Waal offers his own train of thought and associations in his accompanying text Twelve Leaves, which he describes as both autobiography and a journal of reading. This is a uniquely personal, oblique and moving text, in which he draws from poets including Proust, Goethe and Celan in exploring his own emotional response, stimulated by living with these extraordinary images.

It is interesting how strong a grip this little book has had on me. The black and white photographs showing leaves on the cusp of decay, detailing the process of deterioration, have an almost mesmeric effect on the observer. The images are beautiful but one's attention is drawn to the final decay of these still living, but parchment-like leaves; they are beautiful but also frail. Thoughts of human deterioration, frailty and decay are inevitably planted in the mind.

Perdendosi is a perfect description of the process of late ageing with the gradual approaching end of life for all living things; I now have a lovely name for this late stage of my life! I look at myself and realise that I am  in a state of human perdendosi, contented with this inevitable process and its many manifestations. The mirror shows me a face poised in the gradual downturn to oldest age and death but, as the music grows fainter, I slowly see how contented I am with this inevitable process and its many manifestations. I feel strangely at peace within my perdendosi. My personal music is slowly slipping into the beginnings of the final, perhaps prolonged, diminuendo and I strain to appreciate it because it is so precious in its calmness and completeness. Increasingly, I breathe in the peace experienced within this personal perdendosi and I quietly relish this special individual experience with its occasional challenges, while appreciating the vast universality of this process. Like childbirth, my perdendosi is experienced as entirely individual and private even as it takes its place within the universality of its inevitability.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
1749-1832

One of the allusions made by De Waal in his text is to Goethe writing his Nightsong and sending it to his friend, Charlotte von Stein. He signs it, dates it and places it “At the slope of Ettersberg, 12 Feb ‘76.”

                                                                      I am weary with contending!

Why this rapture and unrest?

Peace descending

Come, ah, come into my breast.”

Schubert sets it to music in 1821. De Waal writes, “ It is a song of a letting go, the descent, the perdendosi of leaves.”

“The Ettersberg beech forests are cleared in 1937 to make way for the Buchenwald concentration camp. Goethe Eike, his oak, is preserved and it is named. It stands in the centre of the camp. On 24 August 1944, the camp is bombed and the oak burns all night long. The DDR government casts its stump in concrete. It has a plaque. No leaves.”

Goethe Oak,
Buchenwald Memorial

One beautiful old face to represent human perdendosi

  

Boccaccio's Miniatures

Boccaccio  by Andrea del Castagno.
Uffizi, Firenze.
c1450

 I recently took a few books to Oxfam with the intention of giving, not buying; my small apartment has little room for more books but a passing glance at an Oxfam shelf as I was leaving permitted me to see the inviting title of Boccaccio’s Decameron.

An illustration by
the Master of Jean Mansel

Of course I had heard of him and his most famous work but knew no more so reached out to read! Reader, inevitably, I bought the book which, although it summarises the story of Giovanni Bocaccio, born in 1313 in Florence, in fact, it contains a record of copies of the hundred miniatures, painted between 1430 and 1440 by two Flemish artists to illustrate the French translation of the Decameron completed in 1414 for Philippe Le Bon, Duc de Burgundy. Guillebert de Mets copied the texts which were illustrated by 100 miniatures painted by two unknown artists, generally referred to as  'the master of Guillebert de Mets'; the other, who had illustrated the stories of Jean Mansel, was referred to as ‘the master of Jean Mansel.’ In addition to the visual delight afforded by these miniatures by the two artists, they are also a superb record of daily life in the mid fifteenth century, its architecture, geography, events, towns, forest paths, customs, clothes and relationships. A realistic depiction of daily Flemish life preserved but presented as the daily mediaeval life in Italy a century earlier.

Illustration by the Master of Guillebert de Mets.

The entire manuscript appeared in the inventory of Philippe de Bon’s library after his death in 1467. We know, from a book-plate in the manuscript, that it then passed to the library of Charles du Croy, book-lover and Knight of the Golden Fleece who became Prince of Chimay in 1486. After which, it entered the library of the Marquis de Paulmy who set up one of the most important sections of the Librairie Arsenale in Paris where it still resides, classified under number 5070 in the Manuscript department. Somehow, the traceable six hundred year journey of this amazing work of art so that we know its location now, is perhaps the most astonishing aspect of the whole creation!

Il Decameron de Messer
Giovanni  Boccaccio
Citadino Fiorentino
MDLXX11
1573

My Oxfam book gives the translation of the bulk of the original text, setting out to explain the meaning of the miniatures and we learn that the original hundred stories were supposed to be told at a rate of ten a day, in ten days. This explains the title: Il Decameron which translates from the Greek as ‘ten days’. It opens with a graphic account of the bubonic plague as it raged through Firenze during the entire Spring and Summer of 1348 when, it was judged, that three fifths of the population had perished. The terrifying description bears all the hallmarks of having been written through experience. The storytellers, all invented, are three young men and seven young women, all from aristocratic families and none related to another nor with any suggestion of romance in the air, live rich and happy lives but have now escaped the dangers of plague-ridden Florence and gathered in a large, luxurious country residence where they decide to entertain each other by recounting stories. They are self-confident and comfortable and enjoy telling often, risque stories. 15 of the  stories are described as 'indecent' while 41 are love stories with often explicit sexual details and ten other love stories end in blood and death.

Florentine citizens after fleeing their plague-ridden city

The author, Boccaccio, claims that the first 3 stories seem to best sum up Il Decameron. The first denounces the illusion and ambiguity of the worship of saints; the second brands the indignity of the Roman clergy while the third suggests that Christianity, Judaism and Islam are all equal. These were, in fact, really dangerous ideas to broadcast in the fourteenth century so the first three stories identify themselves subtly, by implication. It is also suggested that the only divinity that Italian men of the latter end of the Middle Ages worshipped, was Venus, Goddess of Love!

Pietro, a nobleman, and Agnolella, a plebeian,
reunited after fleeing family opposition
to their love.

Helpful peasants misdirecting the pursuers
of Pietro and Agnolella.

Philippa, after being caught by her husbanddd
committing adultery, cleverly uses the law
to outwit him and the magistrate.

Cuckolded husband to the left.

Boccaccio's statue in the Uffizi, Florence.
1845.
He is regarded  as one of the three
great names in Italian literature:
Dante; Petrarch and Boccaccio.

Above, a selection from the Decameron miniatures, placed chiefly according to the eccentricities of the website, not the compiler of this blog.