What happens when a star dies? That depends on the size of the star.

When a big star dies, the end of its life is marked in a suitably dramatic fashion with a giant supernova. All that remains once the light has burned up is a black hole.

Before long, a new young upstart emerges to take its place, fresher and brighter than its predecessor.

And thus, the cyclical nature of celebrity life (and death) continues.

When an entertainer dies, their death is publicly mourned not simply for the loss of life, but for the loss of their talent. It was their talent, after all, which originally brought them to the world’s attention; it was their talent that allowed us to feel we had a shared connection. We became part-owners of their artistic output, but soon, in this age of increasing obsession with ‘celebrity’, we wanted more: we wanted to own the person, too. And what is the primary source for feeding such demands, if not the media? Tabloids, magazines, gossip websites, YouTube channels – all dedicated to providing as much insight as possible into the lives of ‘the rich and famous’, sometimes beyond the limits of acceptability, and occasionally straying into the realm of horrifically intrusive. The media are where a life can be both created and irreparably tarnished.

The week began with news of Whitney Houston’s untimely demise. The gushing tributes that have come to be expected in such circumstances were in free-flow within hours of the ‘story’ breaking, as articles were sent into cyberspace and to the printers, heralding the tragic loss of one of the greatest voices of a generation. However, there was something uncomfortable about this – all the belated praise and adulation. Where had it been for the last few years of Whitney’s life? Instead of allowing a clearly troubled woman the space to deal with her problems, various media outlets lay in wait, ready to attack at the first sign of ‘unpolished’ behaviour. Whitney’s ill-advised “comeback” tour was torn apart in snide and unforgiving commentaries less than two years ago. The Daily Mail even found fault with the “sweaty” stage presence of a woman nearing menopausal age in this headline from 6^th May 2010: “Diva in decline: Whitney Houston shines on stage for the wrong reasons…she’s pouring with sweat”.

Whitney is not the only ‘star’ to have received this kind of schizophrenic treatment by media outlets in recent years. The deaths of Michael Jackson and Amy Winehouse were lamented, without so much as a shred of embarrassment at their own hypocrisy, by the very same publications that had previously launched scathing attacks on these individuals during their time in the public eye. Particularly in the case of Amy, the pervasive presence of the paparazzi that followed her everywhere – from court appearances to nightclubs, her mother’s home to detoxing retreats – ensured that the world was treated to an unusually protracted and visual account of her ‘crash and burn’.

When each of these troubled artists announced plans for a series of comeback gigs in the last few years, the world’s media awaited the outcome with baited breath and, in all possibility, with the headlines already written. Whatever personal reservations one may have had about the suitability of the then almost fifty-year-old Michael Jackson signing up to a run of fifty concert dates at the 02 Arena, it is now impossible to ever know whether the shows would have ended in disappointment or succeeded in staging, as promised, ‘the greatest comeback in history’. But that didn’t stop the tide of critical and presumptuous reports at the time, which claimed (with information from those ever-knowledgeable ‘sources’) that Michael had only made two of his rehearsals, or that he was being pushed too hard and had not agreed to the additional forty dates that were added onto the original ten. The posthumous release of This Is It, the film about preparations for the once upcoming tour, showed many of these stories to be unfounded. It could be said, though, that Michael’s untimely and unexpected death saved him from potentially succumbing to the same fate Amy suffered with her own comeback gigs. Amy’s attempt to return to the limelight for reasons other than her struggle with drink and drugs was marred by her shambolic and erratic performance, including seemingly forgetting the words to her own songs. After this rather alarming appearance, was she given space to recuperate away from the media’s disapproving and judgemental eye? In a word – no. Less than four months after having to cancel several planned UK performances following the aforementioned gig, the Daily Mail (again) found it appropriate to highlight the “pot belly” of a ‘worse for wear’ looking Amy as she left a restaurant one night.

Whitney, Michael, Amy, as well as the others before and those who will sadly follow them, were, to the largest extent, responsible for their own problems. However, what they were not responsible for was their own hounding by a ruthless and unflinching press. No story was too seedy to run, no picture too invasive to print. Fighting against drink, drugs and the psychological demons that accompany such addictions, whilst having to deal with the ever-growing and consuming influence of the media, must have been an exhausting burden to live with. Whitney’s 2002 album ‘Just Whitney’ included the single ‘Whatchulookinat’, a response to the excessive interest into what many saw as a destructive relationship with her then-husband Bobby Brown: “See I don’t understand, why you keep peepin’ me? When you don’t even like me?”

As the tributes from earlier in the week start to subside and in their place “shocking reports” of Whitney’s downfall begin to emerge, including pictures of the room in which she spent her final hours and shots of her final meal, one can only hope that when she is laid to rest this weekend, Whitney, along with other ‘fallen stars’, is allowed the peace in death that she was denied in life.

Izzi Wheeler

Image: asterix611 on Flickr