Naples and the Anniversary of the Death of Giuliani

Today Robin is in Naples.
He has been a number of times before and always seems to have some sort of adventure, as you can read here on the post 'Navigating Naples and the Tale of the Mandolin.'

But today isn't as much an adventure but more a time of reflection.
181 years ago, this very day, Mauro Giuliani died in Naples at the age of 48.
The Italian guitarist and composer has played a huge part in Robin's life, and that of all classical guitarists world wide.
I have written about him before in the post, 'The Divine Giuliani - Beethoven'
It somehow seems fitting, that by coincidence, Robin is there today.

However, Naples has a strong musical history, Ferdinando Carulli was born there, Rossini spent some of his early career as musical director of the Teatro Del Fondo in Naples, where he was commissioned to compose one opera a year, and Paganini is known to have been at various points in his career.

It is somehow comforting to know these incredible musicians have walked these very streets:



Naples is also the location of one of the most active volcanoes, Mount Vesuvius. It last erupted in 1944, but is constantly monitored, so that anyone living in 'the red zone' can be moved to safety if any changes are detected.
Hopefully that won't be today as here is the enormous ship 'Eurodam' with the mighty Vesuvius in the background:



However it was this picture that really made me nervous:



As always on his travels Robin somehow manages to find a music shop.
This one specialises in mandolins plus the rather unusual Italian guitar.
I can relax though as I have been assured that it has remained firmly on the top shelf.

Navigating Naples and the Tale of the Mandolin

Robin has now joined Cunard's Queen Victoria and is currently in Naples.
Fortunately he didn't arrive there yesterday, as the police seem to have been rather busy, '100 Arrested in Naples'.

He is also, once again, a man on a mission.
If you remember, back in the summer, there was an ongoing saga connected to a mandolin.
It started with, 'Sorrento a Mandolin and a Music Box', where Robin spotted a beautiful mandolin but came home with a music box.

By June we had, 'The Mystery of the Mandolin', in which the entire family temporarily became detectives worthy of the best overt operation in recent times.

Swiftly followed by, 'Captain Corelli Causes Chaos', where I had a crash course in the life and works of Hummel, Guiliani and Mozart.

Then finally, 'Guitarists and Their B****y Nails', when Robin proved his purchase a worthy investment as it kept him amused for days whilst resting his battle worn nails.

Well, although the mandolin was found in Sorrento, it was originally made in Naples.
So today Robin is attempting to find the home/studio of the maker, Nicola Spoto.
We have the address, you may have read a tweet yesterday in which I mentioned shining a torch inside the mandolin, to make a record of it...

He allowed himself an hour or so to achieve this goal, as his first concert is tomorrow.
No matter how interested he is in the history of the mandolin, he's more interested in giving a well rehearsed concert on Wednesday.

Well, it was an eventful hour.
The taxi took Robin straight to the right road which was in a fascinating and vibrant area of Naples.
However, most frustratingly, Robin found every house except the one he was looking for.
No matter how many he times he went up and down the narrow street, lined with the most impressive houses, number 34 was never found.
Number 33 and number 35 were discovered, but not number 34.
The mystery of the mandolin is set to continue.

But if the BBC need a reporter, from the scene of the city police station, he's right outside.

The Mystery of the Mandolin

Today Robin is in the British overseas territory of Gibraltar, but I am going to tell you about exciting developments, on the mandolin front, that occurred over the weekend.

Little over 4 weeks ago Robin was in Sorrento.
Whilst walking the streets, he found a very nice antique shop, and in the window was a beautiful Mandolin.
If you remember, I blogged about it at the time, 'Sorrento a Mandolin and a Music Box'.

Well, on his return from that particular trip, Robin was furious with himself for not buying the magnificent instrument.
The more we researched the luthier Nicola Spoto, the more we realised that an opportunity had been missed.

But then we started looking at the various photographs that Robin had taken whilst away.
Sure enough, there was one of the mandolin, in the shop window.
Unfortunately neither the name of the shop, or the street, were in the image.
We were very frustrated.
As we zoomed in, and out of the picture, I noticed a parasol, shading a table, which must have been from a cafe or restaurant...
We zoomed in further.
Sure enough, it was, and it had the name of the restaurant, printed on it.
So, we then found the telephone number for the restaurant, on the same street, as the antique shop, that housed the mandolin.

The next part I left up to Robin.
He called the number.
Now Robin does speak a little Italian, enough to get by on holiday, or to buy basic provisions.
However, this conversation was way beyond your average Italian phrase book:

"Hello, I'm calling from England. Do you know if there is an antique shop on your road with a mandolin in the window?"
Ermm, we didn't really get very far, although they did exchange email addresses, as one of the employees, due in later in that day, spoke a little English.

Next step, call the tourist board.
Here we had a little more luck.
We were able to make ourselves understood, and even sent the picture of the shop that we had been studying so closely, to help them identify the area.
We also told them that if they did find this place, to tell the man that Robin would be back in Sorrento on June 21st, and ask him to keep the mandolin for him.

For a few days there was no further news, and we beginning to think that the poor people of Sorrento had humoured us, then gone away thinking the English are crazy.
But then a message.
The man at the tourist board had located the shop, and told the owner when Robin would be in. He also said that another local man had been in saying the same thing! (Obviously the chap at the restaurant had been as good as his word.)

By now we were beginning to feel hopeful.
But also, concerned the the antique dealer would start thinking that there seemed to be a lot of interest in this instrument, and maybe he should put the price up. Inadvertently we may have created a demand.

So, it has been with increasing anxiety that Robin arrived in Naples on Saturday. He got up early and went ashore.
He then caught the first ferry around the coast to Sorrento, which is a journey of 40 minutes.
As he retraced his steps through the lovely streets he was still not quite sure whether the instrument would still be there.

He found the shop.
No mandolin in the window.
Despair.
He went inside and introduced himself.
The owner beamed, opened a drawer, and pulled out the beautiful instrument, still in its original case.
Delight!
But he still had to examine it closely for any damage, warped neck, that sort of thing.
As he played it, two passing tourists came in the shop and said they had been drawn in to see where the lovely sound was coming from. They also added that he would never regret buying it.
Inspection complete, Robin was very pleased to find that it was in near perfect condition.
Made in 1888 and kept in the same family for generations.
Until now.
The deal was done and a very happy Robin left the shop.

As he had a couple of hours to wait for his return trip to Naples, he found a quiet park, sat on a bench, and played away.
I suspect I shall be hearing a lot more of the mandolin on his return home.
Once back on board the QM2, he was able to send me a photograph.
As you can see it is a very ornate instrument:



Although I don't as yet have one of the case, this is its protective cloth:



So now I have to wait a few more days until I see it for myself.
But my faith in human nature has been restored.
The fact that 3 complete strangers were prepared to put themselves out for a rather odd request, is a wonderful thing.