The "angel of death"is a familiar figure in popular culture, where s/he usually turns up dressed to kill, either as a skull in a hoodie or as a pre-Raphaelite rock chick swathed in translucent chiffon.
This image, however, dates back only as far as the 15th century, when artists' portrayals of the "Grim Reaper" evolved from the traditional garb of pallbearers at funerals. It has little or no connection with the angel known as Asrael, or Izra'il, one of the four archangels of Islam, a gigantic figure whose foot is said to bridge the space between hell and paradise, and whose job is to accompany souls to heaven. He can also be called upon to provide comfort to those who are grieving.
In the Judaeo-Christian tradition, references to a supernatural harbinger of death are pretty vague. An "angel of the Lord" does an occasional spot of smiting in the Old Testament - but the idea of a specific deity responsible for terminating life on earth, though popular among Canaanite religions, did not sit comfortably with early Jewish monotheism. In post-Biblical times, it caught on like wildfire, and rabbinical lore lists no fewer than 14 angels of death including Azrael, Adriel, Yetzerhara, Metatron and Mashhit.
Why, then, did Suk call his symphony Asrael? "I've never satisfied myself as to the explanation," says Fred O'Callaghan. "Perhaps he wanted to universalise it. He said he got great consolation from writing the symphony, and hoped it would give consolation to others who were grieving. Perhaps he didn't want people to think that he was only offering consolation to Christians."
