Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa and Count of Conza, was one of the most outrageously innovative composers of the Renaissance with one of the most outrageous biographies. As a composer, he pushed the limits of tonality to a point not seen again until Wagner and Schoenberg. He is most known... infamous... for his brutal murder of his first wife, Donna Maria.
Suspecting his wife of having an affair, he feigned leaving on an extended trip but returned after dark and had a loyal servant let him back into the estate. Finding Donna Maria and Fabrizio Carafa, third Duke of Andria and seventh Count of Ruovo
in flagrante, he brutally murdered both lovers. Gesualdo repeatedly stabbed his wife while screaming out "Is she dead yet?!" until he was covered in blood, while his servants held Fabrizio. He then reportedly forced Fabrizio to dress in Donna Maria clothing and beg for mercy until Gesualdo shot him in the head. Both bodies were dumped on the steps of her parent's estate. As a member of the aristocracy, Gesualdo was above any prosecution, He wasn't above vengeance or a
vendetta being carried out by Donna Maria's family.
Gesualdo fled Venosa and eventually settled in Ferrara, the home of the d'Este court where he had arranged for another marriage, this time to Leonora d'Este, the niece of Duke Alfonso II. He composed some of his most creative work in the innovative environment of Ferrara, surrounded by some of the finest musicians in Italy. While in Ferrara, he published his first book of madrigals. He also worked with the
concerto delle donne, the three virtuoso female singers who were among the most renowned performers in the country.
After returning to his castle at Gesualdo from Ferrara in 1595, he set up a situation similar to the one that existed in Ferrara, with a group of resident virtuoso musicians who would sing his own compositions.
Late in life he reportedly suffered from depression and was haunted by visions of his murdered wife. Gesualdo had himself beaten daily by his servants in an attempt to assuage his guilt
Gesualdo's late setting of Psalm 51, the Miserere, is distinguished by its insistent and imploring musical repetitions, alternating lines of monophonic chant with pungently chromatic polyphony in a low vocal tessitura.
I can't imagine his music surviving today's "cancel culture".