More Battistini.
It was a joy to share the photos of the book launch for “Mattia Battistini, King of Baritones, Baritone of Kings” and to read the reactions! A prominent guest at the event, as I mentioned, was Liza Mrosovsky Shaw. She was the grand-daughter of the great baritone (although the singer with his wife had no ‘legitimate’ heirs), and became a close friend and champion of ours over the years. This has prompted me to dig out the text she proposed to give at the event, along with two rare photos she shared that night.
Liza passed away exactly two years ago this month. Although Jacques was unable to leave Paris, I was honored to attend her funeral in London; it was a lovely event, with music and uplifting words, testimony to her extraordinarily beautiful character. Rest in Peace, Liza.
Here is the speech she gave that night at the US book launch:
“First of all, many thanks to M. Chuilon and Mr Reinhart, and to the Scarecrow Press for producing this wonderful book about my grandfather. I am also very grateful to Nathalie Wagner and the members of the 2 Societies present tonight for welcoming me here for this occasion.
About myself, despite one Mayflower word having gotten through the proof reading of my postscript, I’ve got to tell you I am English, and I hope you can understand my accent!
This is not my first visit to NY. That was in 1947, and I remember being treated to a Pepsi at the top of the Empire State Building, and going to MOMA where I was deeply impressed by a Malevich abstract, entitled White on White. I revisit it every time I come to NY!
My Russian grandmother, Varvara, became an American citizen in 1932, and is buried in the Woodlawn cemetery of this city.
Here is a picture of her
Photo (in comments GR)
But I can hear you asking, ”What about your grandfather?”
He died several years before I was born. I first got to know of him the best way possible, by his voice. As a young child living in Oxford England during WWII, my family had a gramophone for playing 78rpm records. My eldest brother was allowed to cut the triangular wooden needles with a special snippers. What did we play? Battistini records, of course! To this day I remember the extraordinary beauty and expressiveness of Battistini’s voice – joy, triumph, anger, swagger, snarl, nobility, gravity, sadness, and exquisite tenderness. Recordings such as Si vendetta, Pieta Rispetto e Amore, Ambo nati, and, especially, Tosti’s Ideale.
We had no photos of Battistini, nor was I told he was my grandfather, but my life-long love of opera started then. The voice is my favourite musical instrument!
Just before I went to University, in 1955, my father told me about his origins. “It’s a question of our identity, Liza,” he said.
I was then sent to Italy to stay with Battistini’s widowed & childless niece-in-law, who had the life ownership of the Battistini villa at Colle Baccaro, before it reverted to state ownership. I stayed at the villa with her, and saw the drawing room with walls completely covered by the laudatory ribbons from some of the singer’s bouquets. See illustration in the book of Battistini at the piano. E.g. ‘Artista Sublime Celeste Cantor on the wall above his head, right. I also looked at Battistini’s and his wife’s huge marble tombs in the large chapel he had built near the villa. An order of Spanish nuns lived on the estate and had use of the chapel.
The same year I went to Spain with my father, and met Battistini’s wife’s niece, by then very old indeed. We travelled to Membrilla south of Madrid and saw the long, low white building with a large courtyard, frequented by white doves, that had been Battistini’s and his wife’s, and from where he went hunting. We were shown round by the widow of Battistini’s chauffeur. A photo of Battistini was on the wall in her simple house.
- Chuilon has included all the best known anecdotes about Battistini, but I have one of my own.
There are many photos of Battistini on horseback round and about Colle Baccaro, chatting to locals . He was a very keen rider. We have one of a horseman jumping his horse over a trestle table out of doors. Although the photo is so bad that the face of the rider cannot be identified for sure, we believe he is Battistini. The place is probably the local regimental headquarters where Battistini had friends, perhaps to dine alfresco and then jump the horse over the table after the meal? Why would we have this photo if it wasn’t him?
One of the reasons why Battisini’s fame lapsed into obscurity was that he had no legitimate heirs. However, in Rieti, he is remembered still. An unimportant street on the edge of the town is named after him. It was the route he took on horseback going in and out of Rieti. The proprietress of the restaurant where I dined in Rieti some 20 years ago showed me the school project about Battistini done by her child!
Some time ago I decided to try to hear ALL the operas that Battistini sang in. If you look at the Appendix to the book, you will soon see I have set myself a task impossible to achieve in my lifetime. How he managed to have such a huge repertoire is amazing. I doubt I shall ever hear, for example, the part of The Duc de Chevreuse on stage, but at least, last year, I managed to hear a splendid concert performance by the Mariinsky of Rubenstein’s ‘Demon’, one of Battistini’s greatest hits.
To conclude, here is a photo of Battistini in the 1920s (old, and in pain from lumbago, as he says on the back of the card, but smiling as usual) with an unidentified American millionairess and her friends. If anyone can tell me who she is, I would be delighted!
Thank you all for listening to me.”