Joseph Haydn R.I.P. (Rest In Pieces)

Joseph Haydn [pictured right] was a revered Austrian composer -loved by his fans, feted by his agents and envied by his contemporaries.

He was, as most Austrians are happy to tell you, just one of their most famous stars. Of his time!

There are numerous stories about Haydn’s life – how he shaped the music world, how he wooed the aristocracy with his cool, funky new vibe and how he dumped his wife for the high life of London’s fab music scene. Joseph was the man. He could have scored a comp pass to any cool club in any part of the world. Everyone wanted to be seen with him and he was a hit at every party.

And with that powdered, coiffed hair, Elton could easily have modelled his peculiar stage persona on him.

But Joseph died in 1809 (yep, you got the date right) and that’s where his best story starts.

He didn’t die a tragic death, so closely aligned to mega stars. There was no syringe or bottle of pills on his bedside table, no lingering hints of auto-erotica and not an experimental light aircraft or speeding sports car in sight. None of that had even been invented.

No. Joseph died the sort of death that will probably beset the likes of Mick Jagger, Alice Cooper or Cliff Richard- old age.

Oh dear, how ignominious for someone we had such high hopes for! He was 77 for God’s sake. (Mick must be close to that by now)

But when he died in Vienna, 200 years ago and they played the equivalent of “Forever Young” on the harpsichord at his funeral, his sobbing groupies followed the carriage to the cemetery. He was laid to rest in the style of a true star.

Haydn’s death, although not entirely unexpected – he lived beyond the average life expectancy of the time by 18 years, prompted a new interest in his life. The opportunistic merchandisers swung into action immediately. T shirts with “JO GOES” logos were sold by the millions, pirated compilation cd’s of Haydn’s Greatest Hits covered trestle tables on every street from Shanghai to Kuta and equivalent stars of Liza Minnelli and Bono lined up at studios all over the world to record posthumous duets with the great master. Everyone wanted a slice of the action. Fans all over the world illegally downloaded his tracks to their iPods.

But this is the true bit.

At the time of Haydn’s death (just like Bon Jovi or Sinatra, he was just referred to by his surname at this stage) there were new forms of science being developed. One such emerging quackology was phrenology- the study of bumps on the head. A dubious Austrian scientist of the time thought that man’s intelligence could be determined by analysing the moonlike craters of the skull.

He was so convinced of his scientific hypothesis but all he needed was proof. So, he dispatched his two nefarious assistants to rob the grave of Joseph Haydn and steal the most valuable contents – his head. Haydn’s genius could now be scientifically confirmed.

Unfortunately, about 10 years after his death, Joseph’s greatest fan, Nicholas II, who had supported and encouraged the star’s career, decided that a more appropriate resting place for Joseph would be Eisenstadt in Burgenland, where he lived most of his life and produced his most noted works. Nicholas II started work on a fine marble mausoleum for Joseph in St Mary’s Church, just up the road from his old home.

So he ordered the exhumation of Joseph’s body for transfer. The workers who performed the grizzly task were taken aback when they pulled his body from his grave only to find there was no head. That’s odd, they thought.

Apparently Nicholas was pretty pissed off about this. He was always a 100% or nothing man.

He ordered an enquiry, a royal commission, a referendum, and family conference.

As a result of the enquiries, the culprits were located and reluctantly handed over the head after many hours of “assisting police with their enquiries”. There could have been a ‘one-for–one’ deal struck here, but details are sketchy.

Anyway, Joseph Haydn’s head, probably still filled with a few unwritten tunes was handed over and reunited with the rest of his body to be interred in the marble crypt at the rear of the church on the hill in Eisenstadt that Nicholas built.

But was it?

No. And this is where the story gets even more interesting.

Apparently, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, the two dumb scientist’s accomplices had swapped Joseph’s head for that of some anonymous old codger and tried to pull a quiet swifty on the Prince, all for the sake of phrenology.

Eventually they were all sprung and Joseph’s real head was at last located. But in a series of negotiations that make the machinations of the Melbourne City Council look like a play group, Joseph’s real head was not handed over to the keepers of his marble mausoleum until 1954, nearly 150 years after his death. Everyone still wanted a piece of Joseph Haydn – literally.

In a private ceremony, attended only by family and friends and away from the paparazzi’s flash, the crypt in St Mary’s was opened and his real head was once again reunited with the rest of him. It now rests in (one) peace in perpetuity and Joseph joined the ranks of Marc Bolan and Jimmi Hendrix where pilgrims pay reverent homage regularly.

Save a couple of colourful embellishments, this story is true.

Joseph Haydn remains a much loved and respected contributor to the rich musical culture of Austria. But the bizarre antics after his death only perpetuate his influence.

Decompose in peace Joseph and we say while waving our arms :

“Thank you for the music, the song I’m singing.

Thanks for all the joy you’re bringing

Who could live without it?

I ask in all honesty……..”

Apologies to Benny and Bjorn

An on location report from Austria and Central Europe by interantional travel writer, Kevin Moloney.