Count of Tuscany tells his side of the story

Dear All,

You may, or may not, be familiar with a progressive metal band called “Dream Theatre”; if not, there is nothing to be ashamed of as my own musical culture stops with Francesco Landini (14th century – a joke actually: I rather like Cole Porter). Anyhow, the above group recently released an album called Black Clouds and Silver Linings, which, from what I gather, has been enjoying quite a bit of success. The question you may be asking is: why the heck should we care, given your stated taste for musical genre recently crawled out of a sarcophagous. Well, for once I have decided to shelve Rossini, Sibelius and Gershwin; and for a very specific reason.

The album contains one song in particular – a pretty long one to be honest (18 mins), titled “The Count of Tuscany”. The lyrics (see attached) are somewhat fey, or downright sinister if you prefer; unless you know the genesis of this particular musical piece. It regards Villa Calcinaia, myself and, in particular, my brother Sebastiano.

A few years ago my brother asked if I was willing to come up to the villa and meet the members of a rock band. I originally demurred, given my above stated musical tastes and the need to finish writing a book. However, at Seb’s insistence, I relented and, arriving at the cellar I met with a group of people prefectly befitting the popular image of rocksters: earrings, pony-tails, tattoos and what not. Well, you can immagine my surprise to discover these individuals were no “sex, drugs and rock-&-roll” gang, but instead square as cubes, family men, downright professional, with a sense of metaphysics and musically very cultured indeed.

Seb and I took them around the cellars, the vineyards and the property in general, I smoking as usual (in the lyrics I am described as “sucking on my pipe” ). Apparently we completely spooked the lot out – one could have expected the opposite – since in the song’s refrain they stress a lingering fear of not being able to get out of the place: “Dr. Frankenstein, I presume” sort of situation (it is possible that their terror was more due to the fact of not being able to have anymore of our wine, but as a historian I have to stick to sure facts). They did manage to leave, however, otherwise I would not be writing this piece.

On a final note: during the meal we discussed opera and I suggested they should write one. Maybe with the “Count of Tuscany” as the main protagonist. Or even better the wines from Villa Calcinaia, since it was those that got us hooked-up in the first place.

Niccolo Capponi