The Vivaldi Brothers (and the unresolved Issue of the Peni$)

Giovanni Battista Vivaldi ran a barber shop in the late sixteen hundreds Venice, he was also a talented amateur violinist. He had two sons and three daughters who, by a strange twist of genetics, all had flaming red hair and great talent for music. This story is about his sons: Antonio Lucio and Francesco Gaetano. The boys learned to play various instruments but also received advanced musical education: composition, counterpoint, harmony, orchestration and were actively composing music since they were teenagers. Antonio, a gregarious extrovert, easily made friends and enemies. Francesco was shy and spoke very little. Antonio managed to get a publisher to sell his music earning money and a growing recognition. His brother, who was also a barber, wrote mostly for woodwind, and had Antonio sign and sell his works for him. One of  Francesco's oboe pieces, the Largo movement from his Concerto in C Major, was lifted by Ann Ronell  in 1932 to become the jazz standard "Willow Weep for Me".

Antonio became music director at the Ospedale della Pieta which he turned into a center of musical excellence. Early in the eighteenth century, the  Opera craze hit Venice and Antonio couldn't pass-up the chance of making serious coin. Dozens of theatres were staging opera to satisfy the public's growing appetite and Antonio ended up composing more than fifty operas (almost all of them crap). He joined up with the other Venetian giant of the time, Carlo Goldoni, for a sure hit: the opera "Griselda", but when they submitted it to the censors, it was rejected for moral turpitude (Goldoni overdid it and had Constanza, a woman, fall in love with Griselda, another woman). Goldoni and Vivaldi had a horrible fight blaming each other and never spoke again. 

About 1740 Antonio was invited to Vienna by Emperor Charles VI to become his Court Composer. Alas, shortly after his arrival Charles died and Antonio found himself without a job, without a sponsor and without much money. He fell ill an died a year later almost destitute (the money he left barely covered the cost of a decent funeral).

Back home, brother Francesco was cutting hair and  still composing. Every now and then he would take his pieces to Antonio's publisher pretending that he found more music left behind by his bro. When Francesco found the "Griselda" manuscript, he took it to Goldoni to change it so it will pass censorship. Goldoni resolved the issue: Griselda was disguised as a man which proved good enough for the censors. "Griselda" was staged at Teatro Sant'Angelo at a huge success. The interest was helped along by somebody who wrote in bright red paint on the poster "Has Griselda a Penis?" Everybody suddenly wanted to see the Griselda Penis Opera. It ran for astonishing fifty-six weeks.

Francesco made money of it but still maintained the barber shop. He was composing small oboe pieces to play them with family and friends. Sometimes asked  himself if Griselda was really a man after all, and did it have a penis. 

The Composer as an Uncle

What I am about to tell you happened a long time ago in France. If you're preoccupied with how I know what I am about to tell you, you're asking the wrong question ... just try to focus on what I am about to tell you, ok? Here goes:

Jean Phillipe Rameau, 1760 

Jean Phillipe Rameau (hereunder simply called Rameau) was born in Dijon into a family of musicians and, naturally, became a musician himself. He had brothers and sisters of which only one brother plays a (minor) role in what I am about to tell you. 

Rameau had his first sexual experience after he turned twenty-four (which was about ten years later than the average age of the French males of his time) and was so deeply and utterly disgusted by the act that he remained celibate for the rest of his life. 

While Rameau was busy composing operas and writing treaties on musical theory, his younger brother Jean Christophe Rameau, a prosperous rice merchant, married the charming young German soprano Amanda Chloe Sturz. They had a son whom they named Jean Francois. The boy just turned sixteen when his parents died in a house fire and Rameau, the ever avuncular, took him in to try to raise him into a useful member of society. Jean Francois was more interested in nice clothes, fine dining and women and less in making France great for  Bourbon Louis #fourteen and #fifteen.

Rameau knew what the nephew was like, but being busy, he didn't do much about it. He was thinking and hoping that it was just a stage that the youngster would soon outgrow. Uncle and nephew shared the house, the habit of smoking tabaco and the pleasure of taking long baths in fragrant, soapy, hot water. One mild October evening in 1752, after a long and luxurious bath, the nephew went to the dining room for a snack and a smoke. He was wearing his uncle's bathrobe and his new wig when a masked intruder climbed through a window and stabbed Jean Francois in the neck. The blade severed the internal carotid and he bled out in four minutes. Monsieur Nicolas Rene Berryer, Lieutenant General of Paris Police, personally conducted a vigorous investigation. A large number of suspects were arrested and questioned but still, the case remained unsolved ... which is exactly what I said that I am about to tell you and now, I did. Pauvre neveu!