Grasshopper

Appreciable is the intent to celebrate one of the fundamental works of sacred music not only from the Baroque (and then Bach is Baroque only by birth: in reality, he is absolute, atemporal). Much less (alas) is the result. And not so much because of the content, which is more or less understandable, albeit with great effort, and shareable. The problem lies in the form: it is true that it may also depend on me, but I admit that I did not understand the meaning of many expressions at all. This applies to "beauty towards music," to "a man who cloaks love from any form of life," to "the glimmer of light that reflects the melancholy stripped of its bitterness," to "the interposed fears," to "the choirs follow with bulimia," to "four parts, on the recondite and the metamorphosis," to "The obsession, the sacrifice of a man who awakens the forgotten hidden in the darkness tinted with obscurity," and finally to the entire sentence that concludes the review. At this point, instead of assigning an ungracious score to the well-meaning Supervai, I prefer to invite the author to clarify what lies behind these somewhat enigmatic expressions.

That "mind games" was meant to be ironic, while also somehow humanizing a musician who, like all classical composers, tends to be portrayed as a demigod. Yet they too had weaknesses, vices, quirks, tics, and so on. In short, they were human beings, even though listening to Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven might raise some doubts.

This welcome truly leaves me speechless. I am shy, and although I find myself at home, where Minister Brunetta, at least until the enactment of a specific decree-joke, cannot annoy me, I am sincerely embarrassed.

Dear Josi, it’s good to see you again after a year that was more forced than chosen. You hit the nail on the head: in the face of the superhumanity of Mozart's Requiem (which I vaguely hint at myself when talking about the abysses it opens before us), others can seem a bit diluted: either too theatrical (Verdi) or on the contrary too ethereal (Fauré). In any case, they are human, and this too is part of it: after all, the fact that a tormented man has a rather serene vision of the afterlife is part of human nature. That said, it doesn't prevent the piece in question from being a masterpiece, especially due to its balance of rigor and fantasy, the same balance we will find in Brahms’ Symphonies.

Sorry... but the 3 stars might be the default setting. I might not have selected anything, but I meant 5.

Zaireeka, your learned comment makes perfect sense, but I would suggest a significant variation: removing the initial "e" from "escatologico." Then indeed we can enter, with the caution of pinching our noses, into the ideal world of this artist.

Rating the album 1? Like Ramazzotti or Masini? I hope, in fact I'm almost certain it's a typographical error.

Nice album, perhaps the only valid one from a Branduardi now far from his golden period. The only remarkable flaw: here and there, recycling fragments of his old songs as interludes (or fillers?). With a little effort, he could have composed something new.

It's the only album I know of this artist. I really liked it at the time, precisely because it was rich in Knopfler-like sounds, but I never thought to explore the Willy De Ville / Mink De Ville chapter further. I have a cassette left (back then, only the wealthy had CDs) and a good memory. I’ve never seen it on CD.

Of course, my comment, aside from the inevitable de gustibus, is influenced by the fact that classical music is indeed my favorite genre, although certain jazz musicians like Duke Ellington—perhaps not this specific one, but the one who led the great orchestra that set trends between the late '30s and the '40s—are to be considered true "classics," in the best sense of the term. As for improvisation in Baroque music, it seems that Bach was scolded several times because during the performance of liturgical music for organ, he would get lost in "excessive variations," meaning he would improvise, and this was not appreciated by the ecclesiastical authorities, who (then as now) have always had the habit of intrusively and arrogantly meddling in matters they do not understand. Nevertheless, this would be further proof of the flexibility of that not-so-moldy material we call classical music, ancient yet extremely vital, so much so that in some cases you can even find the "blues of the highway" within it.