Of all Florence’s contemporary sons Franco Zeffirelli is the one who approaches closest to the polymath artistic genius of Leonardo da Vinci. No surprise, since one of Franco’s ancestors was the painter of ‘La Gioconda’, better known outside Italy as ‘Mona Lisa’.

Where to start with Franco’s achievements? In operatic scenography (Callas in ‘Tosca’)? In theatrical productions (‘Taming of the Shrew’ with Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton)? In films (‘Tea with Mussolini’ with Judi Dench)?
I have my favourites (‘Jesus of Nazareth’, whose film sets we stumbled upon during our Tunisian honeymoon forty years ago), ‘Filumena Marturano’, a West End production with Joan Plowright, Larry Olivier’s widow, and the rehearsals of which we witnessed personally at the Italian Institute with the master himself, my father-in-law’s (the institute’s Secretary-general from its inception) good friend, and, particularly, ‘Romeo and Juliet’, which had me transfixed as a teenager.

I admit Franco is a marmite genius: loved and loathed in equal measure. Certainly, I could not begin to unravel with him my disputes about his political affiliations. But one thing is certain and that is Franco’s great love for the city of his birth and his affection for the United Kingdom, a fact recognised by honours from both countries including a KBE from Her Maj.

Franco is, above all, a generous genius, with whom we have enjoyed personal memories, especially my wife, Alexandra, and someone who is one of the most refulgent artistic visionaries of our age.

This generosity and vision is set in stone in Franco’s foundation.

This opened last year in one of Florence’s rare baroque buildings, the San Firenze monastery. Started in the seventeenth century as an oratory for the order of Saint Philip Neri and completed by 1775 by, among others, Zanobi del Rosso, this elegantly symmetrical building was half church and half high court until 2012 when the ghastly new tribunals were built at Novoli, spoiling the view of Florence from San Miniato sul Monte.

The church is still used for its original religious purpose but the oratory has been turned from tribunal into a magnificently resonant concert and venue hall.

The convent itself is devoted to the Franco Zeffirelli foundation which contains the master’s archives, a lovely caffe, and presents exhibitions to engender creative productivity in the city of the Lily.

We were invited yesterday to attend a concert in the ex-oratory and tribunal of San Firenze to celebrate Franco’s contribution to that wonderful musical festival, il maggio fiorentino, which is entering its 81st year. I met Pippo, Franco’s adopted son, and, despite the large number flocking to this very special event, we were able to be accommodated together with the widow of Franco’s friend, my 96 year old mother-in-law….

This was the programme.

The ‘giardino della bizzarria’ was, as its title implied, a somewhat bizarre piece. Beginning with an often cacophonic polyphonic section the work resolved itself, after huge cluster piano chords, into a gloriously diatonic celebratory finale.

The Puccini excerpts, pointing to Franco’s intense relationship with opera, were arranged for and sung by a children’s choir with exquisite aplomb. The voices were beautifully trained and the pieces selected and arranged with absolute adroitness. The most successful items were ‘Butterfly’s’ humming chorus and that infectious Chinese song, ‘Moh li hua’, used in ‘Turandot’. We were then treated to the whole of the second act of ‘La Boheme’ where the singer (Maria Rita Combattelli) of Musetta’s waltz song was close to being sensational – a great taster for the maggio season.

It was a lovely gesture by Franco Zeffirelli, one of Italy’s undisputed living legends, to offer this delightful concert to his city and to donate his archive to the land which nurtured him. Grazie mille, caro Franco!