no longer good enough! He could not be more deeply wounded.
Grumpy and disillusioned, Anna returns from Ferrara,
swearing never again to set foot in the bloody place. Never before
has she been confronted with such a thankless public. All the
blame for this she pours on the head of the leader of the orchestra,
Pietro Antonio Beretta. Beretta might be Maestro di cappella of the
cathedral of Ferrara but he is a useless harpsichordist. Apparently
he has scrapped or simplified in the score all the most challenging
harpsichord parts, which do indeed demand good command of
technique, even from highly experienced musicians. It didn’t help
either that the hall was treated each night to Bollani and his
constellation of hirelings greeting each aria and recitative with a
loud chorus of booing. Vivaldi is finished once and for all with
Ferrara, and immediately dispatches Anna to Graz, with a request
to Piero Mingotti to give her the lead role in Rosmira.
A raw wind tugs at the shutters, and rain clatters on the streets and
into the canals of La Serenissima. The gutters are overflowing, and it
is difficult to discern where the quay drops into the depths of the
canal. The city looks deserted, but the interiors of the gaming
houses and great halls of the palazzi are teeming. The people in
here seem just as oblivious to the filthy weather as to the parlous
state of Venice herself. Money and family treasure changes hands
at lightning speed across the tables, and everyone is in party mood.
Why, precisely, is not clear even to the players themselves. But the
inebriated need no reason for their excesses. It is carnevale! With
their eyes fixed upon their assets, or on the softly heaving bosoms
of the ever-present courtesans, nothing could be further from
people’s thoughts than the possibility that this city of pageantry,
wealth and splendour might be sinking inexorably into the marshy
depths of the lagoon.
Vivaldi gazes sombrely at the flames dancing in the hearth. It is as
if he senses doom, the imminent downfall of his city, but in truth it
is his own future that concerns him more than that of Venice. He
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