你好O.J.Simpson had nothing on the Don Carlo Gesualdo “Prince of Madrigalists’, and probably the most famous murderer of the 16^th century.

In 1586 Gesualdo married his first cousin, Donna Maria d'Avalos, the daughter of the Marquis of Pescara, and survivor of two previous marriages. Two years later she began to have a love affair with Fabrizio Carafa, the Duke of Andria; and she was able to keep it secret from her husband for almost two years, even though the existence of the affair was well-known elsewhere.

Finally, on October 16, 1590, at the palazzo in Naples, when Gesualdo had allegedly gone away on a hunting trip, the two lovers had gotten careless about who knew what was going on (Gesualdo had arranged with his servants for the doors to be left unlocked), and he returned to the palace, caught them in the act and brutally murdered them both in their bed. Afterwards he left their mutilated bodies in front of the palace for all to see. Being a nobleman he was immune to prosecution, but not to revenge, so he fled to his castle at Gesualdo where he would be safe from any relatives of either his wife’s relatives or her lover’s with revenge on their minds.

The depositions of witnesses to the murders have survived in full. While they disagree on details, they agree on the main points; Gesualdo had help from his servants, who may have done most of the killing; however Gesualdo certainly stabbed Maria multiple times, shouting as he did, "she's not dead yet!" The Duke of Andria was found slaughtered by numerous deep sword wounds, as well as by a shot through the head; when he was found, he was dressed in women's clothing (specifically, Maria's night dress). His own clothing was found piled up by the bedside, unbloodied. One suggested explanation for this is that Gesualdo first murdered his wife, and after this turned his attentions to the Duke, forcing him to don his lover's clothing, most probably to humiliate him.

If that weren’t bad enough, in 1594 Gesualdo went to Ferrar, a vital music center at the time, where he studied music and arranged for another marriage, this time to Leonora d'Este, the niece of Duke Alfonso II. What she thought at the time about marrying a manic-depressive, music-obsessed murderer is not known, though she married Gesualdo and moved with him back to his estate in 1597. It was during those first few years of his second marriage that Gesualdo assembled singers and musicians and wrote most the books of madrigals that have made him famous.

In any case, the relationship between Gesualdo and his new wife was not good; she accused him of abuse, and the d’Este family tried to get her a divorce. She spent more and more time away from Gesualdo's isolated estate, and he wrote many angry letters to Modena where she often went to stay with her brother. According to Cecil Gray, "She seems to have been a very virtuous lady ... for there is no record of his having killed her."

Later in life Gesualdo suffered from severe manic-depression; whether or not it was over the guilt over his bloody multiple murders is difficult to prove, but according to the writings of one witness, he had himself beaten daily by his servants; and he kept a special servant whose duty it was to beat him "at stool"(don’t ask) and he engaged in a relentless, and vain correspondence with his uncle, Cardinal Borromeo to obtain relics, i.e. skeletal remains, of his uncle Carlo, the guy who had tipped him off about his first wife’s affair, with which he hoped to obtain healing for his mental disorder, and possibly absolution for his crimes.

What’s in our player now: Gesualdo: The Fifth Book of Madrigals – The Consort of Musicke, Anthony Rooley, cond. – L’oiseau-Lyre 410-126-2

Gesualdo was tortured by guilt for most of his life and he expressed it in his music. One of the most obvious characteristics of his compositions is the extravagant setting of words representing extreme emotional states: "love", "pain", "death", "ecstasy", "agony" and other similar words occur frequently in his madrigal texts, most of which he probably wrote himself. While this kind of thing was common among other composers of the late 16th century, nobody did it quite like Gesualdo. His wild chromatic flights of fancy were unique and isolated, without heirs or followers, a fascinating dead-end in musical history, much like his personal isolation and self-destruction by guilt.

The Consort of Musicke’s response to this experimental and expressive music is so seamless and so alert to the abrupt changes of tone that it’s almost like they are making it up as they go along. Their artistry is the very best kind; so natural, it’s hardly visible. It seems like nothing comes between you and the most fantastic music you’ve ever heard come out of the mouths of singers.