The mess at La Scala with Riccardo Muti is worthy of an opera plot. To wit: “The town square at dusk: Muti, hair shorn, is to be executed. “There is only one way to work with Muti: his way,” sings Norman Lebrecht as he knits beside the guillotine. “The relationship between Muti and the orchestra is sick,” sings a musician. “Only death can cure this illness.” Meli and Confalonieri rush to try to free their hero, but are cut down by scythe-wielding peasants; Mrs Muti throws herself off the battlements; Franco Zeffirelli and Norman Lebrecht sing of their triumph; the chorus of La Scala hum the opening bars of On the Town. Before he is executed, Muti utters the immortal words – “I should have taken that bloody job with the New York Philharmonic.” He dies. Curtain.”