pay the bills!’
‘Give me another chance to write a libretto for you. I’ve got
a couple of ideas guaranteed to fill the hall.’
‘You reckon so?’ replies Vivaldi cynically. ‘What makes you
think you can judge?’
Lalli smiles cheerily, refusing to be put down. ‘Well, look
at Vicenza. Or have you forgotten that already?’
‘Oh yes, a one-day wonder. More to do with people’s
curiosity about Il Prete Rosso than the story. Show me something
worth looking at. Overawe and convince me utterly. Then maybe I’ll
be prepared to consider your libretto next time.’
Vivaldi’s scornful attitude towards Lalli masks his true
feelings. In reality he finds it hard to bear that the public has
shown itself too stupid to appreciate his performance. Elementary
melodies, plain lines, plenty of repetition and, most important of
all, very little innovation. That’s what the masses yearn for. But
then the sheer audacious arrogance of them! One production is
hardly off the stage before they’re screaming for the next. What
hypocrisy! Can’t they see what fools they are making of themselves?
A rehashed title, a few newly scribbled arias, another cast and voilà,
a new opera! But in spite of all his grumbling, the theatre
performances bring him in more and more work. Tourists never
leave Venice without an edition of music by the famous Vivaldi. And
it is the northerners who come back for more. Apart from
producing compositions, he helps amateurs by giving them violin
lessons during their stay, and these rich foreign pupils do not
shrink from paying the fees asked by the renowned Vivaldi. They
may not master every piece he gives them to practise, but most are
delighted just to have the honour of playing with the great
virtuoso.
A bonus comes Vivaldi’s way this summer. For the management of
the Ospedale della Pietà is more than pleased with its priest. Scarpari
has produced not a single decent piece of music for the Figlie di Coro
and so everything is falling on the shoulders of Il Prete Rosso.
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