It was May 2020, in Italy there was the lockdown, Covid was raging, our politicians did not respond with adequate initiatives and we all lived separately, each in their own home, in terror of a lethal virus. Thinking about it now, almost three years later, the feeling that enveloped me was strange, almost unreal. We lived in the anguish of an invisible enemy, it would have been logical to be able to rely on the ruling class, its resources and ability to solve problems by seriously dealing with people's well-being, but we were forced to hope against all the evidence, which, instead, told us that this was a big problem, from which we didn't quite know how we would come out, if and when, above all, perceiving ourselves damned alone, frightened and heartbroken. The terror of death snaked in our hearts. The TV exhorted us to hold on a little and a little more, until things had settled down, even though we didn't see a glimmer of light. We forced ourselves to be optimistic, so as not to perish. We had lost everything, we were prisoners, but we didn't realize it, and, with a prisoner state, it would have been appropriate to accept reality, seek peace and adjust to that order of things, even though we felt it was anomalous, since, apart from the command to stay at home, no other applicable strategies could be seen. We had lost our constitutional freedoms at that juncture and nobody knew the future. It was an alienating feeling to make bread and hope that a resolution of the problem could affect all of us, to lead us towards a bright future. World news told of a deadly pandemic, we were told to be very careful, even though it was really difficult to understand what was really happening all over the planet: we were only told that, if we hadn't been more than careful, we would all have died, after being intubated in some intensive care unit, in who knows which hospital. What we all felt was pure anguish. One morning, after having my coffee, with the effort to maintain my normality, which I have always had as an adult and which I really love, I began to read, but suddenly my thoughts were kidnapped by the presence, in my head, of some Chopin sounds. I hummed them. It was like hearing Richter at the piano playing that succession of notes, from some recording I had on a CD on my shelf. It was a strong sound image, so much so that I stopped reading that newspaper article. Then I went to the keyboard and played that romantic passage. That handful of notes was the opening of a masterpiece of Polish genius. It was intensely lyrical. When I was a teenager and I lived with my father, I studied transverse flute at the conservatory, I had the piano at home and I tried my hand at studying a Nocturne by Chopin, together with some Preludes and Fugues from Bach's "Well-Tempered Clavier", so I can say Strongly, from a young age, Chopin has been a part of my life, considering him the non plus ultra of piano literature. That morning, I played a few notes on the keyboard, reflected on them, savored them, and analyzed their construct. They already had in them, despite the small number of sounds, a wonderful musical atmosphere. I too wanted, in my new composition, that same density of Chopin, to fully express my state of mind, the condition of a man who wanted Humanity to smile carefree again. That pathos and that sublime evocative force were in me, I just had to represent them in a score, with beautiful signs, a process that is not always easy to activate. I yearned, in that fraction of time characterized by the lockdown, that my new music could overcome the physical limits of my home, to reach the home of my fiancée, whose absence I felt terribly, although the two of us made courage every evening on the phone , hoping that that nightmare would soon end and that, as if by magic, our existence full of dreams to be fulfilled, which had been brutally robbed, would be returned to us. After playing those notes, I already had a tonality in my head: D sharp minor. There was a Neapolitan sixth chord to start with, to feel close to Chopin's music that had given rise to my musical vision. I reasoned. I found the notes of that chordal agglomeration, in that tonality, which was so dear to me, having written very often, in recent years, in D sharp minor. I played them. I analyzed the deal. It was beautiful, its effect truly noble. I enriched it with a dissonant note, the seventh of the fundamental and I remained listening to its echo in the room, which immediately moved me to the sensation that this could have been the Incipit of a great new work, which today I bring to the attention of the world. I had a chord, which had been inspired by the great master of piano literature, having the intention of making that set of sounds a key chord. I wrote it, on the pentagram notebook, observing it in its apparent linearity. I got up to go and have a sip of coffee. I went back to my study and tried to continue that chord. Trying and trying again, I found three more chords, with one constant: the note of the soprano's voice should always be D sharp, to create a pedal, in the high register. So I wrote it all down and played out the sequence. I had before my eyes the origin of "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible". The piece was born with the succession of chords written for piano, but almost immediately I had the intuition of creating a symphonic piece, with those notes, which I entrusted to the strings. From there, then, I began to work vigorously on a piece that seemed really beautiful to me. At one point, after days of composition and labor limae, I considered the work finished and archived it, with the intention of listening to it again later. Months later, after coming back to my mind, I listened to it again and decided to enrich the fabric with new harmonic structures and even later I began to write a succession of pieces which, together with the first, "My lady' breast - Portrait of an invisible ”, could constitute a symphonic poem, which thus was born, in two and a half years of commitment, with the homonymous title of “My lady's breast”, divided into 6 parts. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" is the original theme, the one resulting from the analysis of a Chopin chord, and bears the term "Invisible", because I, during the lockdown, felt without representation and was able to leverage only on myself and the love of my Partner. "My lady's breast - Second chance" is dedicated to rebirth. A man is born, then flourishes at the exact moment in which he realizes the importance of his life, transforming himself definitively. I experienced that juncture 15 years ago, when I met my partner. "My lady's breast - Ocean", was born from a reflection on how much this existence is a great sea. "My lady's breast - Althea, the center" is a hymn to the Care that interprets everything and heals everything. No man can live without implementing adequate care for those aspects of himself that make him suffer. Care is a sine qua non. "My lady's breast - Isle of Beauty", because love is the island of Beauty. “My lady's breast. Nihil. Hecatomb and Awakening”, however, is the conclusion. We are approaching value 0, to nothing, in a truly monstrous hecatomb, which kills people's psyches, but which, for many, has allowed them to awaken forever. Non-verifiable individuals, always attentive and alert, fight the charms of Power with intelligence, without ever coming to terms with the master of the Universe on duty, raising a new song towards the Beauty of life, which is the primary good of the existence of everyone. This symphonic poem intends to be revolutionary, militant, daring, for the future, for the people, for love… I have been writing for 15 years, ever since my Partner enabled me to have an inspiring Muse. I wish the world was a more just place, rather than a realm where inane ways thrive. The first piece of the sequence, entitled "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" bears the subtitle "The day", since the moment in which an invisible becomes a Person is day n. 1 of true existence, which begins with identity and love. The metronome indication is: “Andantino, with true passion. The moment of the revelation of one's true Self, in relationship with the other, bpm = 88". The subtitle "The day" represents the day in which you discover that you love someone unconditionally and that you are no longer alone. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" comes from a Neapolitan sixth chord and is conceived, in its THEME A, as a succession of 8 chordal clusters with a common note for the highest voice. THEME A is performed by 15 different voices. The common note in the highest voice is as if it were a leitmotiv, a leitmotiv, a melodic constant. The piece lasts min. 19:46 and is a modular construction. THEME A and its subsequent transformations are of an elegiac nature, they communicate the nostalgia of the distance from the loved object, they are full of pathos, since they intend to communicate an all-encompassing adherence to the musical score, and represent a communication that takes place in a low voice, in a world of din. The dynamics, from pianissimo to forte, guarantee a myriad of different colors, which allow the sounds to be colorful. The harmonies intend to communicate a mood of longing. It is the orchestral work that best represents me, in its progression. I think I've become a better person since the first lockdown, why? Because now my eyes are open and it can't scare me to see the bottom of the abyss, hoping that this Humanity will find the way to feel good and be happy, loving what one does and dedicating oneself to one's passions, since we are all on the move, trying to find the best way to live all as brothers.
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In this era of lies, projected on a world scale, authentic words are needed. This is my message to the world for a peaceful revolution leading us to a New Age of Light.