How a Florentine peasant's son came to be the Sun King's favourite composer.

Jean-Baptiste Lully is one of those figures who loom large in histories of music; much less so in concert and on disc. In fact he's probably best known as the victim of the worst conducting accident in history, whacking himself on the toe with the weighty staff he used, in those pre-baton days, to beat time. Tragically, time was up for Lully, and he died of a gangrenous infection, at the peak of his powers, a little over two months later. All this week, Donald Macleod explores the life and work of this arrogant, ambitious, difficult, ruthless but remarkable man who came from the backstreets of Florence to be the preeminent composer of the French court in the late 17th century, the founding father of French opera and one of the leading figures in the music of his era.

In today's programme, the teenage Lully bumps into a French aristocrat in the Tuscan capital and in an incredible lucky break is whisked off to Paris to teach Italian to Anne-Marie-Louise d'Orléans, a cousin of the king. Lully's talent for dancing provided him with his next lucky break, when he was chosen to take part in a court ballet. The young Louis XIV - six years younger than Lully and himself a skilful dancer - was so impressed by the Italian's moves that he poached him from his cousin's household. Lully now proved that he could write the tunes as well as dance to them, and a court appointment followed, as 'composer of instrumental music' to the king. By the time of Louis's dynastic marriage to Maria Theresa of Spain, Lully had become an indispensable part of the French court's well-oiled musical machine, and in 1661 he was created Superintendent of the King's Chamber Music. Around the same time, he became a naturalized Frenchman, and got married - perhaps partly to dispel the rumours that were beginning to circulate about his sexuality. Show less