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A PORTRAIT OF HÄNDEL
They used to call him the Great Bear. He was gigantic: broad, corpulent, with big hands and enormous feet; his arms and thighs were stupendous. His hands were so fat that the bones disappeared in the flesh, forming dimples.[1] He walked bow-legged, with a heavy, rolling gait, very erect, with his head thrown back under its huge white wig, whose curls rippled heavily over his shoulders. He had a long horse-like face, which with age became bovine and swamped in fat; with pendant cheeks and triple chin, the nose large, thick and straight, the ears red and long. His gaze was very direct; there was a quizzical gleam in his bold eye, a mocking twist at the corner of his large, finely-cut mouth.[2] His air was impressive and jovial.
- ↑ When he played the harpsichord, says Burney, his fingers were so bent and clubbed together that one could not detect any movement; it was as much as one could do to distinguish his fingers.
- ↑ See the portrait engraved by W. Bromley after the painting by Hudson. He is seated, with his legs wide apart and one fist on his thigh; he is holding a sheet of music; the head is held high, the eye ardent, the eye-brows very black under the white periwig, all but bursting out of his tightly-fastened pourpoint, overflowing with health, pride and energy.
No less interesting but much less known is the fine portrait engraved by J. Houbraken, of Amsterdam, after the painting by F. Kyte, in 1742. In this we see Händel under an exceptional aspect, after the serious illness which proved nearly fatal, traces of which are to be seen in his face. It is heavier, and fatigued, and the eye is dull; the figure is massive; his energies seem asleep; he is like a great cat slumbering with open eyes; but the old quizzical gleam still twinkles in his drowsy gaze.
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