Names are strange labels – some disappear on the wind, others lodge like shards of sunlight in the memory. I met such a name, one that lingers, in an apartment in an old palazzo in Naples, Italy.
The apartment belonged to Michael Aspinall, and the name was Serena Malfi.
Michael Aspinall photographed in Christ Church, Naples Italy in 2016
The trouble with being the king of a niche is that however impeccable your talents your kingdom may not be big enough for those outside the niche to notice your crown … which, if the king is a modest man, leaves the rest of us none the wiser … as it were.
I met such a king recently and it took two years to discover who he was.
A look back (first published 3 October 2015): I have heard several mandolin concerts in Naples since I wrote this article – the last time was in Piazza del Plebiscito under a huge sky. It was as right as the stars above.
The deep curves of the bowlback Neapolitan mandolin
It took us a while to find the little workshop and we had to squeeze in when we did – it was Saturday and the only door was open to visitors.
In fact La Bottega del Mandolino was so full of visitors (around a dozen or so), and every shape of mandolin and tool, that there hardly seemed space for Maestro Salvatore Masiello.
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The Phraser 