The Story of Catarina Cavalieri

Ok, here's the story about my other notable past life, that of Catarina Cavalieri.

Not many people have any idea who she is, but she was Salieri's mistress and sang in many of Mozart's operas back in the day. She created the role of Konstanze in The Abduction from the Seraglio. I remember seeing the movie Amadeus when I was 7 years old or so and wondering why that lady was singing "my aria", it sounded very familiar to me though I had never heard it. Later when I finally heard all of the Abduction for the first time it all sounded very familiar to me.

I had forgotten about this initial incident for seven years, but the day after my fourteenth birthday something cracked in my brain. I was playing a mindless video game and my mom was playing a record of wind adaptations of tunes from The Magic Flute. When "O Isis und Osiris" was playing I had a vivid recollection of meeting Mozart for the first time. We were discussing the role I would play in his upcoming opera, The Abduction, over a very fancy lunch. There was a silver tea set and grapes and cheese. We were sitting by an open window that looked out onto a large garden and there was a dainty crystal chandelier hanging over us. I mostly remember that I had a strange feeling looking at the little man in front of me, I felt that somehow he was very important and would add a new meaning to my life. All this flashed before my eyes in the matter of a split second, but was extremely vivid (I even had to draw a picture) and changed my life completely. From then on I had an obsession with collecting all of Mozart's music and learning all I could about him. Last year I went to Schonbrunn and the garden view out the window was the same as in my vision! The little chandeliers were there, but I don't know if this is where we lunched together, I do know I had a very excited and strange feeling being there.

For some reason, I didn't think reincarnation was a likely answer to the conundrum, despite my upbringing being very open to the topic. I did feel like there was an alternate personality stuck inside me who I called "Katrina Gravier" or possibly Lucelle (based off my other former life) but I wasn't really sure of her first name. She was an 18th century opera singer. I didn't know the name Catarina Cavalieri, but a few years later it all made sense, the name I had given my other personality was very similar. The odd thing was though, if she had been Salieri's mistress why didn't I remember him?

Yet again, when I was about 22, I had an unbidden flash of regression. Standing in the hallway of my apartment I suddenly saw a vision of a man laying in "my bed" which was a gigantic four poster bed covered in red velvet with a canopy to match. I had been sleeping on the floor and stood up, my cheeks still crusty with tears, to look at the man with disdain. How was it that he still slept so peacefully after the fight we had the night before? In a rage I packed a small trunk and dressed myself without calling my maid, walked down the staircase and got in a coach. I don't know where I was going or what the fight was about, but I knew that man was Salieri and I was at that moment done with our relationship. The vision felt like a punch in the heart and I teared up and sobbed for a moment before reeling back to reality. For some reason I felt that the year was 1793. The reason for our fight and where I went after became clearer as I tried to write a novel about that lifetime. Later I saw some old drawings of mine done when I was five, and apparently I had an obsession for a while of drawing beds with red canopies.

Only once did I try an actual regression. I tried to go back to 1776, I believe, to see what I would find. I found myself in a carriage sticking my head out the window, holding my floppy hat down on my head. Looking up I could see birch trees extending their branches over the road in an arch. As I put my head back into the coach I could see Salieri looking at me with an amused smirk on his face. I was still very young and inexperienced, but we were going somewhere very exciting and I was a bit nervous as well. We pulled up to a palace with a large fountain out front and a double staircase. Then I saw a vision of singing before the emperor, terrified, but glad he couldn't see my legs shaking under my black and white striped dress.

Last November I started a novel about that lifetime and was amazed at how much became clearer. There were several mysteries that I attempted to provide a solution to as I saw them only to find that they were historically plausible and even likely. I took part in Nanowrimo, the November novel writing competition, and specifically chose this topic so I would be forced to just write the thing without getting bogged down in research. Aside from reading a book about Mozart here and there a few years ago, I hadn't really read anything about Salieri, so it was an exercise in memory with necessary fact checking only after I had written a passage.

Oh yeah, the day after my birthday is July 30th, which I later read also happened to likely be the day when Mozart met with the singers who would be in The Abduction for the first time.

Fascinating stuff! Thank you for sharing in such detail. I'll see what I can dredge up about that luncheon!

Let me know how you remember the weather being that day. I left that part out.

Fascinating and incredible memories! Did your relationship actually end at that point? Have you found him (Salieri) in this life? I have so many questions!

I think Salieri and I certainly saw each other after that with somewhat feigned amiability, afterall we could hardly escape each other, but it was the end of our relationship as we knew it. I remember being at the premiere of Haydn's Creation, which Salieri conducted, so it is possible we remained somewhat friendly with each other and he still invited me to his concerts. I didn't know what the fight was about exactly until I fleshed out the situation in my book. I think I was angry because he was thinking of moving his whole family to Italy to continue his career, as his and mine had pretty much dried up in Vienna due to emperor Leopold's indifference toward music. I wanted to move there too in order to be with him, but of course that would have been a scandal beyond imagination and so we fought long and hard about that. It didn't help that I could no longer sing like I used to and therefore I wouldn't have had much in the way of career prospects in Italy either, a reality I didn't want to face, but which he was all too ready to point out.

Since he was making a definite decision to choose his family over our 15+ year relationship, I had no choice but to leave him and consider all his declarations of love bogus. I haven't found him in this life, and I don't think I will. However, sometimes I think he's watching over me.

This summer I was thinking of starting an opera company and had a dream which had me strangely fixated and puzzled. I dreamt that Salieri and I were in a small loft style apartment and there was a bird's nest in the rafters. There were five baby birds in it with no mother and I was trying to keep them from picking on the runt of the litter. Then Salieri said that we would have to be the birds' parents and I should write them a letter to that effect, which for some reason had to be in Italian. So he helped me write a letter in Italian and sometimes I would get stuck on the German word for something and he would correct me. So, I finished the letter saying I would be the birds' new mother and tucked it into their nest.

I wondered about this dream and took a nap in the middle of the afternoon a couple of days later only to be awakened out of it by the words, "I am watching over you," resounding loud and clear as day, not startling, but comforting. I opened my eyes slowly and realized suddenly that the birds represented my board of directors for the fledgling opera company and that Salieri would be watching over me and helping from beyond.

I would still love to start an opera company, but I'm not sure where I'd find the time or money to make it work. Maybe one day I'll be able to trust that some spiritual guidance will make it all possible afterall.

Lulu wrote:

Since he was making a definite decision to choose his family over our 15+ year relationship, I had no choice but to leave him and consider all his declarations of love bogus. I haven't found him in this life, and I don't think I will. However, sometimes I think he's watching over me.

How heartbreaking, but it isn't at all uncharacteristic for those of us who were mistresses. It isn't very commonly known that Emma Hamilton and I were dear friends (along with Lord Admiral Nelson), and that it was my common law husband, the English tenor, John Brahm, who sang at Admiral Nelson's funeral. I attended the funeral and sat with Emma, who of course, was not allowed to sit anywhere near the family. The distressing part of her story is the fact that although Nelson loved her tenderly to the end and adored the daughter he fathered with her, Emma was the mistress, the "other woman", and when he died, she and her child were left destitute. She died a few years later in complete poverty.

I believe that one of the things that I am trying to overcome in this life is the self-hatred and condemnation that I have heaped upon myself for being the other woman. You, being as astute as you are, probably read that in my novel. I have a deep desire for our love to be recognized as legitimate and interestingly enough, we returned to this life both of us female and we still struggle with that very issue.

Wolfgang, too, was forced by circumstances to choose his wife and family over his love for me, and it ended up breaking his heart, which I believe contributed greatly to his early demise. He was and still is, a very tender and sensitive soul, and love was/is everything to him. To be forced to live apart from it was impossible for him, so he couldn't stay.

Lulu wrote:I haven't found him in this life, and I don't think I will.

Years ago, with the world still under the enchantment of "Amadeus", I was constantly being asked if Salieri was around. I always replied that I didn't sense his presence near my life, but that if he was around somewhere, I hoped we'd find each other. We'd have much to discuss.

I will never forget that last time I was at your apartment having dinner with the two of you. What a jolly time we had! You were a kick in the head and had me fairly falling out my chair with your wicked sense of humor. It was the last night of true happiness I had in that life.

Thank you.

Wow, Susanna, you knew everybody! As it turns out, Lady Hamilton's great some-odd grandaughter was a good friend of mine in high school, and she was right proud of her lineage.

I did find it ironic after reading your book that after such a struggle between your "illegitimate" love versus society in that lifetime, you would find Wolfi again only to face the same struggle in this life under different terms. Although, you two would probably experience much more freedom if you lived in a big city, but kudos to you guys for sticking it out where you are! Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned in not caring what society thinks, that love is king over all and those who object to true love only object because they don't understand. I think it's very telling that you both are together despite society's objections when these objections tore you apart in the past. It is not only a testament to your love for each other but it also shows that a large part of your karma has to do with coping with love in a harsh environment as much as it has to do with finally getting the chance to be together.

Cherubino, if you ever do find Salieri I would be curious to meet him too. That is interesting that you haven't found him and I haven't either, perhaps he truly isn't around yet. Do you remember any details about my apartment? The furniture, the layout, where it was? Several years ago I drew a diagram of it the way I remembered it. When I finally visited the Figaro house last year I was struck that the floor plan was almost the same as how I remembered my apartment being laid out with the stairs in the center of the building, kind of turning it into a square doughnut. Anything you can remember at all would be most helpful.

I'm glad I could entertain you one last time before you left this earth, I had no idea how much it meant to you! I remember Salieri coming to tell me you had died. He had gone to check on you and I sat staring at the early sunset worried sick and began weeping uncontrollably only to hear him run up the stairs to tell me that you had died. All I could say was that I already knew.

It's great to have you back!

I only remember your dining room, which was about 20' long by about 12' wide. There were two casement windows facing the street (you were up a two or three floors), and four set of wing doors--one set led into the foyer, one set into a corridor, and two leading into other rooms. Here's a rough diagram.

Hmmm, that very well could be it! I do remember living on what would be the zweite Stock or third floor, probably with a restaurant on the ground floor. My windows did face the street. One door led to a corridor leading to the maid's rooms, the door next to it to the foyer, and the dining room would be between the main room and the bedroom. The main room faced the street corner with windows on both outer walls. Woohoo!