Death Masks

I've been feeling a bit ill lately, probably just a summer cold, but I was laying on the couch the other day feeling ill and not wanting to go to work and a program came on the history channel called "Death Masks." I had been watching the show about dinosaurs that was on beforehand, but as soon as they announced the title, I knew it would be just the thing to cheer me up.
Apparently, many historical figures: politicians, artists, etc. have left behind these plaster casts of their faces from back in ancient times even, some while living, but many were cast shortly after their death. In the program they explore the masks of Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Julius Caesar, John Dilinger, and William Shakespeare. It's easy to guess which was the most exciting to me. With all the hubbub about Shakespeare's portraits in the past year, this mask seems the key to solving that mystery. In fact they reach a resonable conclusion after determining that the mask is authentic and then comparing the facial structure of it to the portraits done after his death and the new portrait supposedly painted during his lifetime. They found that yes, the newly discovered portrait is very likely of a somewhat younger William Shakespeare. Certain abnormalities in the mask may also indicate the disease that killed Shakespeare (not binge drinking afterall?) but they didn't delve into that much.
It was pretty fascinating, but they history channel website had very little information about the program on their site. There is a site where you can see pictures of many other death masks here. The picture at the top of this entry is Shakespeare's. Interestingly, John Dilinger's death mask used to hang in Herbert Hoover's office like a trophy.

Jane Austen and Getting Plastered

These two things are not connected, I would never imply that Miss Austen would behave indiscreetly at a public gathering or in even private. However I would like to note that today is her birthday. Her 234th birthday if my math is correct. What with all the turmoil surrounding her lately with paraliterature and poor adaptations, I suggest that in remembrance of her work, pure and untouched by others, we take a moment to read some favorite passages today. Northanger Abbey here I come! Though not very popular, I think it is hilarious. What are your favorites?

Now to the "getting plastered" bit which I'm sure sounds scandalous. Well, you may be dissapointed, but I mean it literally. An aquaintance of mine is directing an updated version of an ancient Greek play in the spring. To help out with her lack of actors I auditioned and was cast. Part of her vision for the piece is to have the players masked and perform in almost a pantomine style while the chorus narrates. last night we made my mask.
If you have never had strips of plaster soaked gauze applied to your face, you probably don't know how trippy it is. First you have thick greasy layer of vaseline applied to your face and straws pushed up your nose to enable breathing (always important). When first applied the strips almost feel nice, like a thick, damp second skin. Slowly though, they harden and draw away slightly, but are still somehow stuck to you; I imagine it's what an exoskeleton feels like. When it was set the plaster ended up sticking to my face more than it should have and left bits clinging to my red, irritated flesh. Due to the cumbersome and quick-drying nature of the paster paste applied over top the gauze, drops ended up in my hair and in my eyelashes. The latter led to me getting plaster dust in my eye.
As I washed my face with shampoo- which my friend supplied, assuring me it was fine for my skin- I reminded myself how much I love the theatre, and how lucky I was not to be the girl that is playing my daughter (in spite of our closeness in age). She ended up with a glop of plaster paste in her mouth which had to stay there for the fifteen minutes it took to set her mask. I realized too late that some photographic evidence should have been taken. Oh well.