In 1915, in the midst of war, a twenty-nine-year-old scholar by the name of Margherita Berio published an article that deplored the total lack of attention devoted to Niccolò Jommelli (1714–1774) on the bicentennial of his birth, the year before. ‘No one,’ Berio complained, ‘not even before the flogging war swept away in its own horror lives, things, memories – no one, I believe, has broken the silence around Jommelli’ (‘Un centenario silenzioso: Nicola Jommelli’, Rivista musicale italiana 22/1 (1915), 105). Berio was hopeful, however, stating that ‘an authentic glory of our [Italian] art’ had perhaps been ‘locked up, yet not suffocated’ by forgetfulness.