Through Shakespeares Eyes
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By dating the portraits, she said, it was likely that he had suffered for around 15 years in increasing pain and died from it. Little is certain in Shakespeare studies - nothing is known about his death in and much of his life is a mystery - but if Prof Hammerschmidt-Hummel's claims win backing they will throw the National Portrait Gallery's three-year research project into the authenticity of Shakespeare portraits into serious doubt. But the first reaction to her claims in Britain was not positive. And the portrait gallery claimed that Prof Hammerschmidt-Hummel's work was based on a "fundamental misunderstanding".
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Prof Hammerschmidt-Hummel, who teaches English literature and culture at Marburg and Mainz University, took the unusual step of using forensic tests used by German detectives to study the morphology of paintings and sculptures that are claimed to be of Shakespeare. Measuring facial features - nose, eyes, lips, chin etc - and the relationships between them she claims that two paintings, a bust and a contested death mask of the playwright show identical characteristics.
The features are so similar, she claims, that they must be the result of sittings with Shakespeare himself.
The four images with the morphological similarities are, she reveals in a book to be published in Britain in April, the Flower Shakespeare, named after the brewery family that gave the picture to the Royal Shakespeare Company in , the Chandos Shakespeare, presented to the nation by Lord Ellesmere in , the terracotta Davenant Bust, which stands in the Garrick Club in London, and the Darmstadt Death Mask. So-called because it resides in Darmstadt Castle in Germany, the mask is dismissed by many as a 19th century fake but Prof Hammerschmidt-Hummel says that the features, and most notably the impression of a swelling above the left-eye make it certain that it was taken within days of Shakespeare's death.
She said: "The cancerous growths grow bigger as the dates progress. Research for the book has taken 10 years and she says pathologists, doctors, ophthalmologists, dermatologists and imaging engineers have helped her build 3D images to demonstrate the similarities. The professor, who has previously claimed that Princes William and Harry are directly descended from Shakespeare, will have trouble persuading doubters over at least two of the images, however. Research by the NPG last year found that the Flower Shakespeare was a 19th century fake using pigment not in use until around Prof Hammerschmidt-Hummel says the bust was mistakenly attributed.
As to the Flower Shakespeare, she risks even more controversy. She claims the picture in the RSC's collection and rejected by the NPG must be a fake or a copy of the picture that she tested in The NPG's own research into six possible contemporary portraits of the playwright has concluded that only one, the Chandos Shakespeare, is a likely candidate.
All six considered will be displayed for the first time together in an exhibition at the gallery opening next week. I dispute the evidence of the portrait gallery and Stanley Wells is not an art historian. Our worser genius can, shall never melt Mine honour into lust, to take away The edge of that day's celebration The Tempest IV, i. O that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew Hamlet I, ii, f. Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, Are not within the leaf of pity writ, Timon of Athens IV, iii. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious, Or else, good night your vow!
The Tempest IV, i. Impudent strumpet! Othello IV, ii.
The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly Does lecher in my sight The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to 't With a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are Centaurs, Though women all above: But to the girdle do the gods inherit, Beneath is all the fiends'; There's hell, there's darkness, there's the sulphurous pit, Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie, fie!
Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: King Lear IV, vi. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne'er been born! Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write 'whore' upon?
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Heaven stops the nose at it and the moon winks, Othello IV, ii. How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and potato-finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! Troilus and Cressida V, ii. If I do not usurp myself, I am. Twelfth Night I, v. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arm. Goats and monkeys!
Othello IV, i. And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot , full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Macbeth V, v.
Through Shakespeare's Eyes
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us: The dark and vicious place where thee he got Cost him his eyes. Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true; The wheel is come full circle: I am here.
King Lear V, iii. But value dwells not in particular will; It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer: Troilus and Cressida II, ii. If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death Othello II, i. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them?
Hamlet III, i. Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an eggshell. Hamlet IV, iv. Eternity was in our lips and eyes Antony and Cleopatra I, iii.
Sonnet 29: When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god good kissing carrion , Hamlet II,ii. As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods. They kill us for their sport. King Lear IV, i. To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come Hamlet III, i. Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an eggshell… Chapter 17, Page Hamlet IV, iv.
To sleep: perchance to dream For in that sleep of death what dreams may come? The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly Does lecher in my sight. The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to't With a more riotous appetite. Chapter 17, Page King Lear V, iii. Chapter 8, Page Macbeth V, v And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death Chapter 18, Page Macbeth V, v O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet That the sense aches at thee Chapter 13, pg Othello IV, ii.
Chapter 13, pg Othello IV, ii.
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If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death Chapter 17, pg Othello II, i. Reason, in itself confounded, Saw division grow together, Chapter 12, pg The Phoenix and the Turtle. On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand may seizep And steal immortal blessing from her lips, Who even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin. It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear There be some sports are painful O you, so perfect and so peerless are created of every creature's best.
Chapter 13 The Tempest IV, i.