by Tim Rayborn
John Bull, probably thinking about philandering and demolition. (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
Orlando Gibbons, who at his death apparently had a lot on his mind. (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
Jean-Baptiste Lully, looking impish and rebellious, but soon to be de-feeted. (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
Henry Purcell, who has no idea of the chilly fate that awaits him. (Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library.)
Antonio Vivaldi, with the smirk that launched a thousand speculations. (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
Giuseppe Tartini, gazing in wonder at the devil’s virtuosity? (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
Frantisek Kotzwara, about to meet his unusual end. (Image courtesy of Google Books / the British Library.)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart as boy, looking confident. He was writing music when most of us were learning how to read. (Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library.)
Antonio Salieri, who doesn’t look particularly diabolical or consumed by jealousy here. (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
Romantic Weltschmerz, or writer’s block … or just a hangover. (Public domain, archive.org.)
Hector Berlioz, whose bizarre love life would be rejected in a fictional story as being too unrealistic. (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
The grave of Frederic Chopin in Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris; he left his heart elsewhere. (Photograph by Tim Rayborn.)
Anton Bruckner. Numeromanic and corpse-obsessive, he lovingly cradled Beethoven’s skull. (Public domain, archive.org.)
Percy Grainger, whose youthful good looks hid his obsession with much darker passions. (Image courtesy of the Lewis Foreman collection.)
Peter Warlock (Philip Heseltine): composer, music critic, black magician, and noted writer of dirty limericks. (Image courtesy of the Lewis Foreman collection.)
Orpheus in a pastoral scene, sadly unaware of the terrible fate that awaits him. (Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library.)
Dionysus and his revelers, who are getting up to all sorts of debauched things. (Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library.)
The flagellants, whipping up some painful rhythms. (Public domain, Wikimedia Commons.)
Charivari from the Roman de Fauvel, wearing masks, baring butts, and scaring decent people. (Public domain, courtesy of the Bibliothèque nationale de France.)
Vlad Dracula, the grand-daddy of serial killers; he had a real stake in his country’s future. (Public domain, archive.org.)
Barber surgeons and a patient who looks quite unhappy. Maybe she just needs a lute. (Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library.)
Robert Schumann. Did his spirit reach out from beyond to reveal the location of his long-lost violin concerto? (Image courtesy of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek.)
Dead or asleep? Either way, the lady at the keyboard looks decidedly annoyed. (Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library.)
“Bloody” Mary Tudor. Was she the “quite contrary” lady in the nursery rhyme garden? Did she cut off three blind mice’s tails, or something worse? (Image courtesy of the University of Leuven.)
Loud street musicians, reminiscent of the Charivari. The “proper” musician in the window appears to be quite irritated. (Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library.)
Arnold Schoenberg, self-portrait, 1910. In addition to fearing the number 13, he seems to be missing an ear. (Wikimedia Commons, free license.)