Mancano solo cinque giorni al concerto del grande violoncellista e compositore italiano Giovanni Sollima che ritorna a Sydney e si esibirà al Sydney Opera House domenica 10 luglio, in compagnia dell'Australian Chamber Orchestra. Incredibile ma vero: ci sono ancora biglietti disponibili quindi, se non l'avete ancora fatto, acquistatene uno subito cliccando qui!!! In basso: un articolo di giornale e interviste dedicati al simpaticissimo "Crazy Sicilian" e un assaggio della sua musica e del suo straordinario talento .

Is "crazy Sicilian" Giovanni Sollima the world's coolest musician?

A cellist who plays Hendrix and an instrument made from ice could be the coolest musician around.

For anyone who considers the cello a staid sort of instrument, modestly hugging the shoreline of the tune while its showier little sister, the violin, steals the limelight, think again.

Italian cellist Giovanni Sollima is a classical player with a rock star status; the Jimi Hendrix of the orchestra world who has breathed new life into an instrument that's been around for more than 300 years and turned it into something wicked. Under his rapidly scuttling fingers, the cello morphs from elegant old-timer into screaming banshee flinging electrical spangles at anyone in its wake.

Admirer Yo-Yo Ma, with whom he has performed, affectionately calls him a ''crazy Sicilian'' and the Australian Chamber Orchestra's Timo-Veikko Valve sums him up as ''definitely not your average cellist'', describing his playing as a ''full-blown cello orgasm''. Sollima could teach Woody Allen's Virgil Starkwell a thing or two about how to play in a marching band; he is prone to taking his instrument walkabout mid-recital - a habit he says is left over from days of practice when he'd fancy a cup of coffee or had to answer the doorbell and didn't want to stop playing.

As Sollima points out, the seated cellist is quite a modern invention; in the early 18th century when there were no mics and amps, it was common for musicians to move about to alter acoustics. ''Who knows what we will be doing with cellos 300 years from now,'' he says.

It is this restless curiosity that fuels his forays into ground-breaking territory. Like the time he performed in an igloo high up in the Italian Alps on a cello made of ice that a sculptor friend carved for him. ''The ice was very interesting; it made the sound much longer, very magical, but it is a moving organism, the notes change while you play.'' Fascinated by the experience, he keeps the cello in a freezer and plans to record the first of Bach's Cello Suites on it soon.

Sollima makes his debut with the ACO later this month on an instrument more suitable for the Australian climate: a 334-year-old dark brown creation by Francesco Ruggeri. The bow was custom-made, copied from a painting of the composer and virtuoso cellist Luigi Boccherini. His work is featured on a program which fuses music from the classical era (including Haydn's Cello Concerto in C) with that of the neo-Renaissance in the form of Respighi, and the modernity of Sollima's own compositions.

There are strong parallels between Boccherini and Sollima; both are Italians who composed, but predominantly earned their living as renowned cello virtuosos. ''Boccherini was very experimental, very new. He made a stack of cello music but he was very unlucky with publishers.'' Sollima describes him as visionary, lengthening the cello's fingerboard, incorporating Spanish folk music into his compositions. ''He was the rock star.''

Sollima pays tribute to the fellow Italian in his own work, The LB Files, a mini-dramatisation of the composer's life that embraces jazz, contemporary and rock. Unfortunately, Boccherini, like so many musicians of his day, ended his career in abject poverty. Sollima has been more fortunate, having regularly collaborated with artists as diverse as Ma (for whom he wrote a critically acclaimed double cello concerto) and American punk poet and artist Patti Smith. As a film composer he has written music for Wim Wenders and Peter Greenaway.

The son of a pianist, he was, by virtuoso standards, a latecomer to the instrument, being almost 10 when he took it up. After years of pleading he discovered a cello under the tree one Christmas Eve and couldn't wait to get started; his father had to call the teacher to the house that night to give him his first lesson. Despite his classical training, Sollima was soon dismantling barriers, playing artery-slicing Jimi Hendrix riffs instead of scales when his father was out of earshot.

​''What I love about the cello is that you become part of the sound,'' he says, in his deeply lilting Sicilian accent, animated by the passion of his subject. ''The cello is the most connected instrument to the body. Part of the sound comes back at you and you feel it in the stomach; it is a very physical sensation. The cello makes a space for me like a room, and you open the window and let the sound out. The cello is my home.''
​
Kathy Evans (Sydney Morning Herald; April 5, 2014)

Sanremo is a pretty coastal town in the region of Liguria close to the French border which, every year, since 1951, hosts the Sanremo music festival (il Festival della canzone italiana di Sanremo, or simply il Festival di Sanremo). The Festival is normally held in February (this years event, its 66th edition, is being staged from the 9th to the 13th of February) and, love it or hate it, it has become an intrinsic part of Italian life. The Festival is actually a competition and the format has varied and varies over the years but basically there are two categories, one for le nuove proposte, non-established artists, (referred to in past editions as i giovani  because they must be younger than 36 years of age), and one for i campioni, established artists. The texts of the songs must be in Italian and the songs must be "new" or unreleased. The Festival is screened on Italian television; it attracts generally huge audiences; and it lasts for hours! Usually it starts at 8.30pm with an Anteprima al Festival, then the Festival gets underway at about 9.00pm and ends at at about 12.30am, followed by il Dopo Festival which ends at about 1.30am. Apart from the competing singers, the Festival also features comedians and famous or remarkable ospiti (guests) - last night's guests included Elton John, Laura Pausini, and a just about to turn centenarian signore called Giuseppe Ottaviani. This evening, Nicole Kidman and Eros Ramazzotti will be appearing on stage.

Each year, the choice of the presenter, the choice of vallette (hostesses) and valletto, the clothing choices of the "valletti", the choice of guests, the quality of the songs, the choice of winner, the text or delivery of a particular song, the refusal by a famous singer or guest to appear at the Festival, the voting system and some aspect of the regolamento, the use of expletives by a particular comedian, all attract lively debate. It's all part of the fun and it has truly become an Italian tradition. Here is how the Encyclopedia of Contemporary Italian Culture (2002) describes the Sanremo Festival:          

Sanremo Festival
​ 
For one week every February since 1951, the Italian media dedicate much time and space to a song competition which is held annually in the Ligurian city of San Remo. The songs themselves arouse little interest or enthusiasm today and, with relatively few exceptions, the singers who participate are ageing has-beens or young unknowns. However, the Festival keeps alive the mythology of Italy as the land of song, and a victory by anyone other than a melodic singer is regarded as a matter of some controversy.
 
The Festival began as a publicity exercise for the municipal casino of San Remo, but thanks to radio and television interest it grew to be an event of national importance. In the conservative climate of the 1950s it offered an important forum for reassertion of the national melodic tradition (which draws from both opera and from Neapolitan popular song) after the intrusion of jazz and swing during the immediate postwar years. Although Italy was changing rapidly, bland nostalgic tunes praising village life, motherly love and chaste romance found a ready audience. It was 'the triumph of nothing, framed by violins and rose petals', as Gianfranco Baldazzi has written (Baldazzi, 1989: 77) Singers of humble origins, like the Bolognese Nilla Pizzi and Claudio Villa, a Roman from Trastevere who dominated the Festival in its early years, achieved great national popularity. Thanks to their remarkable voices and forceful personalities, they contributed to a revival of the Italian melody as a core component of a shared culture.
 
Domenico Modugno's international hit 'Nel blu dipinto di blu' (also known as 'Volare') brought a breath of fresh air to the Festival in 1958, and in the following years domestic rock'n'roll and pop singers did battle with the old guard. Instead of slightly different executions of the same song, the public was presented with alternative versions: uptempo and melodic. However, the emergence of committed singer-songwriters (see cantautori) and beat groups produced more diversity than the festival could handle. The suicide of Luigi Tenco in 1967 following the exclusion of his song from the final at the expense 'of one entitled 'You, Me and the Roses' marked a watershed. In the 1970s the festival declined in popularity, and in 1973 RAI television only broadcast the final evening.
​ 
The successful revival of the Sanremo Festival in the 1980s owed everything to a coincidence of interests between RAI and the record companies. However, the Festival ultimately failed to harness the talents of the best-selling Italian artists, though it did contribute to the success of some significant new performers, amongst them Eros Ramazzotti and Laura Pausini, two young singers from the melodic mould who achieved popularity abroad as well as at home. The Festival achieved renewed popularity with television audiences in the 1990s and its status as an innocuous, if slightly onanistic, national event was underscored in 1997 when it came to be presented again, for the tenth time in his career, by no less an iminence grise of Italian television than Mike Bongiorno. ​

A proposito di  Domenico Modugno, here's a short video regarding his 1958 appearance at Sanremo:

As mentioned above, the Sanremo Festival divides opinion. In this article, which appeared in Donna Moderna last year, Roberto Moliterni explains why he thinks that il Festival di Sanremo  is actually "good" for us: 

1. Unisce l’Italia.
Un po’ come per i mondiali di calcio, è il momento in cui sento più forte lo spirito di una collettività che, per qualche giorno, mette da parte distanze e differenze, e si ritrova riunita attorno a un interesse comune. Sanremo lo guardiamo tutti, quelli che leggono un libro all’anno, quelli che ne leggono venti e quelli che non ne leggono nessuno, lo guardo io che non so come si cambia la batteria di una macchina e lo guardano i meccanici, lo guarda il mio vicino e la mia ex-coinquilina, lo guardano in Sicilia come in Liguria. Non lo guardano quelli che hanno di meglio da fare (e per fortuna sono comunque tanti!), quelli che odiano le canzoni italiane,  e quelli che non vogliono sentire lo spirito della collettività, perché la collettività non gli piace. Insomma, gli snob.

2. È catartico, tira fuori la nostra parte sadica ed è più appassionante di un giallo.
In fondo, a nessuno frega poi così tanto delle canzoni (vedi anche il punto 3). Guardandolo, quello che tutti speriamo è che qualcosa vada storto, un po’ come nei film gialli o drammatici in cui, quando due si amano e sono felici, subito ci chiediamo chi dei due morirà. E allora stiamo incollati al televisore in attesa che succeda, perché tanto prima o poi succederà: la protesta di un cantante o di uno spettatore arrampicato sulla balaustra della galleria, un tacco che si spezza, una gaffe, gli ascolti che vanno male. Penso che non ci sia stata una sola edizione di Sanremo in cui gli ascolti siano andati bene e, secondo me, anche quelle volte in cui sono andati bene, ci hanno detto invece che sono andati male, così noi lo abbiamo guardato proprio per verificare che stesse andando male male. Perché in fondo noi spettatori siamo sadici. E questo, ogni tanto, fa bene, è catartico come guardareHouse of Cards, come doveva esserlo nell’antichità andare agli spettacoli al Colosseo o più indietro ancora andare a teatro. (A proposito della teoria sadica del racconto c’è questo libro di Domenico Matteucci pubblicato da Dino Audino Editore nel 2013: La natura sadica del racconto e altre storie).

3. Ci insegna ad accettare le sconfitte.
Come per Miss Italia, e per tutte le manifestazioni competitive, non vince mai chi vogliamo noi, ma proprio quello che noi non volevamo. Un po’ come con le ex, che dopo di noi si fidanzano sempre con quelli per cui diremmo «no, proprio lui no!». Sanremo ci allena alla sconfitta, ad accettare che le cose non vanno mai come le vogliamo noi.

4. Ci educa a condividere.
Una delle scene più belle per me della commedia all’italiana è quella di Operazione San Gennaro di Dino Risi, dove alcuni ladri, con l’aiuto di Totò, pensano di rubare l’oro di San Gennaro proprio la notte della finale del Festival di Napoli; tutti i napoletani infatti sono riuniti nelle case di quelli che hanno la tv oppure nei bar per guardare i cantanti e sentire le canzoni e nessuno fa caso al furto. Ecco, per me questo rappresenta un bel momento dell’Italia: un’Italia ancora ingenua, che fonda la sua solidità sociale su quei valori di comunità che sono eredità diretta della civiltà contadina. Mi piace che ancora oggi, seppure in modo parziale e virtualizzato – vedi le “dirette twitter” -, Sanremo riesca ad attivare modalità di consumo collettive, con gruppi che si riuniscono per guardare le serate assieme. È importante soprattutto oggi che il consumo di prodotti culturali è sempre più individuale, grazie alla diffusione massiccia degli smartphone e dei tablet.

5. Ci fa cantare.
Anche se le canzoni sono brutte, anche se non vince mai chi vogliamo noi, alla fine cantiamo: i motivetti più o meno scemi o quelli brillanti e allegri che abbiamo sentito durante le serate. Proprio ieri ho ritrovato un vecchio video della mia ex-coinquilina preferita che, reggendo una mazza da scopa, cantava in camera mia una canzone di Arisa, appena uscita al Sanremo di qualche anno fa. Quello rappresenta uno dei momenti più belli della nostra amicizia.

And here's an interesting video in which a famous Italian music critic, Gino Castaldo, talks about the history of the Festival di Sanremo:

Back to this year's festival. One of the vallette is Virginia Raffaele un'attrice simpaticissima, and very very funny comedian and impersonator. In the three videos below (following photos of both Virginia Raffaele and the "real" Carla Fracci), la Raffaele impersonates appunto  Carla Fracci, the doyenne of Italian ballet who turns 80 this year (auguri alla signora Fracci!) : 

Here is Nicole Kidman's appearance at the Festival:

To hear this year's songs, to view clips of the Festival, and to view the Festival live (we think), visit the Sanremo 2016 site. To finish off, here's an excellent 2010 documentary produced by ArteFrance  which was screened on SBS several years ago about Italian popular music. Grazie, buona visione e ciao!!!

Stamattina abbiamo ascoltato alla radio una canzone assolutamente stupenda: Qualche volta sogno del simpaticissimo e bravissimo cantautore livornese, Roberto (detto Bobo) Rondelli. Eccola: 

Qualche volta sogno - Bobo Rondelli (2015)

Qualche volta sogno 
Colori dell'estate 
E un treno che mi porta 
Ad abbracciar mio padre 

Con me non è mai stato 
L'abbraccio mai provato 
L'amore ritrovato 
Per sempre perdonato 

Dolce mio risveglio 
Se qualche volta sogno 
Come ripescare 
Le perle in fondo al mare 

Eh... 
 
Qualche volta sogno 
Di vivere quei giorni 
L'abbraccio dei miei figli 
I perdonati sbagli 

Dolce mio risveglio 
Se qualche volta sogno 
Come ripescare 
Le perle in fondo al mare 
Spalanco il sole al giorno 
Sei dolce il mio ricordo 
E nel mio cuore sento 
Il battito del mondo

Ed eccolo in un'intervista del 2013 in cui parla della genesi del suo album, A Famous Local Singer, e di altro:

L'attesissimo concerto di Ligabue si terrà domani sera, alle 20.00, all'Enmore Theatre di Sydney, e non stiamo nella pelle!!!!!!!!!!!! Incredibile ma vero: ci sono ancora biglietti disponibili quindi approfittatene perché i concerti di Ligabue sono davvero indimenticabili!!! In basso, vi proponiamo l'intervista telefonica a Ligabue andata in onda ieri mattina su Rete Italia, seguita dal video de Il sale della terra, del 2013. Viva Ligabue e a domani!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The eagerly anticipated concert by Luciano Ligabue will take place tomorrow evening, at 8.00pm, at Sydney's Enmore Theatre, and we can't wait!!!!!!!!!!!! Amazingly there are still tickets available therefore take advantage of it because Ligabue's concerts are truly unforgettable!!! Below, you'll find a recording of the telephone interview with Ligabue which was broadcast yesterday morning on Rete Italia, followed by the videoclip of the 2013 song Il sale della terra. Viva Ligabue and see you tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Se vi siete persi il concerto di Ligabue venerdì scorso, peggio per voi perché è stato bellissimo!!!!!!!!!
Abbiamo ripreso, pessimamente!, i primi cinquanta minuti e gli ultimi dieci minuti del concerto. Ecco i filmati e...viva Ligabue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

If you missed Ligabue's concert last Friday, bad luck for you because it was fantastic!!!!!!!! We recorded, very very badly!, the first fifty minutes and the last ten of the concert. Here are the videos and...viva Ligabue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Si è spento stamattina, a soli 59 anni, Pino Daniele, il celebre cantante, cantautore, e musicista napoletano che è stato uno dei più grandi protagonisti della musica italiana fin dal 1977, anno in cui incise il suo primo straordinario album Terra mia, e diede il via a quella fusione di tradizione napoletana, blues, rock, jazz, e ritmi sudamericani che, combinata ad una vocalità unica, lo ha reso inconfondibile. Inutile dire che Pino rimarrà sempre nei nostri ricordi e nei nostri cuori. Lo ricordiamo con tre canzoni bellissime, tutte risalenti al periodo "napoletano": Donna Cuncetta e Il mare, tratte dall'album omonimo Pino Daniele, del 1979; e Annarè, tratta dall'album del 1982, Bella 'mbriana (la bella 'mbriana, nella credenza popolare napoletana, è lo spirito benefico della casa), che si apre con la straordinaria strofa: E lascia pazzià / pecchè 'e criature songo 'e Dio... (E lasciali giocare / perché i bambini appartengono a Dio...). Le canzoni sono in napoletano e non siamo riusciti a trovare su internet le traduzioni in italiano ma, appena avremo un Napoletano DOC a portata di mano, gliele faremo tradurre. Intanto godetevi le straordinarie note del grandissimo Pino Daniele:  

Pino Daniele, the famous Neapolitan singer, songwriter, and musician, who was one of the great protagonists of the Italian music scene since 1977, year in which he released his first extraordinary album, Terra mia (My homeland), which launched that fusion of Neapolitan musical tradition, blues, rock, jazz, and Latin American rhythms which, combined with a unique voice, made him one of the most original Italian singers, died this morning, at only 59 years of age. It goes without saying that Pino will forever survive in our memories and hearts. We'd like to remember him with three very very beautiful songs, all dating back to his "Neapolitan" period: Donna Cuncetta (Lady Concetta) and Il mare (The Sea), both from his self-titled 1979 album Pino Daniele; and Annarè (Annarella; piccola Anna), from the 1982 album Bella 'mbriana (the bella 'mbriana, in popular Neapolitan culture, is the benevolent Spirit of the home), which opens with the extraordinary verse: E lascia pazzià / pecchè 'e criature songo 'e Dio... (E lasciali giocare / perché i bambini appartengono a Dio...; Let them play / because children belong to God...). The songs are in Neapolitan and we have failed to find the italian translations on the web, however, as soon as we will be within reach of a true blue Neapoltan, we will have him or her translate them for us. Meanwhile enjoy the extraordinary sound of the great Pino Daniele:    

E per chiudere questo articolo del nostro blog che purtroppo è scaturito dalla tristissima ed inaspettata notizia della scomparsa di Pino Daniele, ecco l'omaggio che il programma di Rai1, Canzone, gli ha dedicato proprio pochi giorni fa, il 30 dicembre. Addio Pino!

And to end this blog post which unfortunately has been brought about by the very sad and unexpected news of the passing away of Pino Daniele, here is the homage that the Italian television channel Rai 1 programme, Canzone, dedicated to him only a few days ago, on the 30th of December. Farewell Pino!