Damiano Mastandrea sold tickets for as long as I’ve been attending performances at La Scala; one of the large team that keeps town life buzzing. Those in the press office we don’t see, singers and dancers are far away across the void of the orchestra pit (which also serves to hide the musicians), vocal coaches and ballet masters hidden in rehearsal rooms, techies beaver away backstage. It is the programme sellers, ushers, bartenders and box-office staff who meet and greet the town’s visitors.
Damy was one of those who all La Scala regulars knew: he handed them envelopes with tickets, handled their credit cards, and usually gave them his boyish grin while doing so. He was well known by the artists too who desperately had to find a seat for Mum to see their first solo or needed a pair of seats to celebrate Zia Maria’s wedding anniversary. He was at the receiving end of abuse when the star cancelled and anger when strike action meant that there was no set. He sorted out problems on the fly because, even if many things in Italy don’t run on time, at La Scala an 8pm curtain means 8pm sharp. As a friend he was playful, impish, moody, eccentric, charming, practical and generous.
He was born on St Valentine’s day, 56 years ago and died yesterday evening after a brief but intense battle with cancer.
The rose emoji is the symbol that Damy always used to conclude a WhatsApp chat:🌹