Journey’s end: from NC Wyeth’s The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come |
Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short, but when we have had our swing of pleasure, our fill of fruit, and our swelter of heat we say we have had our day (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
THE NOTION THAT LIFE is a gradual process of dying has engaged thinkers since long before Christianity defined existence as a vale of tears. Attitudes to dying – and what represents a ‘good death’ – have changed across cultures and across time, creating a lexicon that extends from philosophy through the arts and sciences and beyond.
Ars moriendi – the art of dying – is now the subject of a year-long symposium planned by King’s College London. The programme of events encompasses an ambitious range of disciplines – this is a subject we can all take a view on – and underlines the simple fact that to look at death is also to embrace the totality of life. The symposium will examine the role of death through the ages and ask how we might prepare for death in an increasingly secular world.
“Like all good ideas, this was a combination of opportunism and serendipity,” said Professor Barry Ife, Vice Principal at King’s College. “A chance meeting at a party, an invitation to visit the department of Palliative Care, and a sudden realisation that what they were doing there was the modern equivalent of what classical philosophers and medieval clergymen did: remind people that we all have to die and make people realise that they have some control over the process. Just as death is an inseparable part of life, so a death well prepared for is a fitting end to a life well lived.”
The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity (Seneca)
The programme stretches from October 2002 to July 2003, taking in debates, lectures, workshops, displays and performances. Alongside discussions of palliative care and euthanasia, more unusual items on the agenda include Helen Storey’s Death Dresses exhibition – “seven textile pieces, suspended from steel scaffolds telling a non-morbid story of death”. The piece is intended to “explore how running from death might influence or hasten the creative process”.
A two-day conference in February 2003 looks at the changes wrought by the Enlightenment: “when death began to emerge as an essentially ‘human’ and ‘secular’ event.” Music and Death in the 18th Century will focus on the cultural changes as reflected in the music, art, literature and medical science of the time, and will underscore what an important period this was for our current perceptions of entropy.
Men fear death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. (Francis Bacon)
During his visit to the Department of Palliative Care, Professor Ife, was particularly struck by the contrast between the realities of dying and the popular perception of it: “Contrary to what we read in novels and see on the stage and screen, very few people die suddenly or violently. Most of us will see death coming and have plenty of chance to put our minds and our affairs in order.”
Taking up this theme, Sir Jonathan Miller will chair a discussion examining the portrayal of death on stage, and ask how such dramatic enactments of death interact with reality. As part of The Performance of Dying, participants will also look at whether the process of ‘dying’ on stage, sometimes night after night, has any effect on the performer’s perception of death.
Professor Ife is thrilled that the concept seems to have caught the imagination of so many contributors: “I suggested that we might have a seminar to look at the historical, artistic and clinical aspects of the theme, and here we are with a year’s worth of events, and some proposals that we have had to turn away. We have been amazed at the level of interest and the variety and quality of the ideas that the theme has sparked off.”
‘The Art of Dying’ takes place over a number of venues across London until July 2003. For further details visit the website or call the box office on 020 7848 2929. |
