Grasshopper

Here the recommendations can be quite varied, but they depend a lot on personal taste. Personally, as a good traditionalist, I tend to recommend composers who have maintained connections with Romanticism rather than those who are "avant-garde." So, to mention a few, Prokofiev and Shostakovich, but also Stravinsky, who has various phases, including a neoclassical one. Then there's also Béla Bartok and Rachmaninoff, who can be considered a survivor, one who in the mid-20th century was making late-Romantic music worthy of Tchaikovsky (see also, just to promote myself a bit, my review of Rachmaninoff's Third Concerto, a work also known to non-classical enthusiasts thanks to the film "Shine"). Straddling the 19th and 20th centuries, the two great French impressionists, Ravel and Debussy, are also extremely interesting (at this point, check out my review of Debussy's Preludes for piano). In short, there’s no shortage of material, and I'm sure I've forgotten some important names.

I also refrain from making rankings: the Sixth and the Second are simply the ones that currently buzz in my ears the most often, but there's nothing stopping you from starting, for example, with the First, called "The Titan," where Mahler manages to move us with variations on the famous folk theme "Frère Jacques," which is truly remarkable, or from the sprawling Third (almost a hundred minutes), perhaps the one that pays homage to nature the most, or even the Ninth, with its calm yet tragic resignation. Personally, I find the Seventh slightly below Mahler's usual standard, but perhaps it's because I know a version of it that is not of great value (the Naxos, I don’t even remember which orchestra it is). The Eighth is a chapter in itself: more than a symphony, it can be considered a monumental composition of sacred music, both for its content and for the massive use of the choir. In short, start wherever you like, you can't go wrong. In the meantime, you've already made a great start with the Fourth and Fifth.

After this nice debate, it seems even more paradoxical that before this excellent review, only I had focused on this singer-songwriter-musician (an absolute rarity, at least in Italy). For several months, my review of "Discanto" remained with a single comment that went something like "Ah, well, mmmhh, but..." Instead, I am pleased to see that the topic of Fossati is now "trending," and I completely agree with Mr. Nobody (insert tail as you wish) on the love-hate relationship with Alonso Chisciano (and, I add, with Lunario di Settembre), both beautiful but excessively verbose and learned, as I mentioned at the time, which is why I assigned a 4 (perhaps a bit too harsh) to "Discanto." P.S. The nickname "Napolesconi" is brilliant: I would definitely authenticate it.

A good album, not exactly a masterpiece. A bit too long and at times rather rhetorical, although this is justified by the particular moment that America, and therefore Bruce Springsteen who has always fully identified with it, was going through, as the review also explains. The Precisino is right: pop is not trash, and it can reach exceptional levels (Elton John, Sting the first names that come to mind). However, here we are talking about something quite different.

Oh, it was about time! I couldn't stand having the exclusive on Fossati anymore. Is it possible that no one else is interested in one of the rare examples of an authentically musical Italian singer-songwriter? I don't know the album yet, but if it continues the trend towards simplification that I pointed out back when "Lampo viaggiatore" was released, there's nothing wrong with that, even though I am one of those die-hard Fossati fans attached to the period from "La pianta del tè" to "Lindbergh," which I believe is unforgettable. The review is excellent, and the first comment is simply nonsensical.

I noticed that I gave a 5 to an album I don't have, and therefore don't know. Nothing strange: since it's De André, it's a kind of conditioned reflex.

Reviewing the Requiem K 626, J.O.P. ... you said nothing! If you see my list, you'll find it among the five works I would take with me to the famous deserted island, along with Bach's St. Matthew Passion, which you have expertly discussed, and Beethoven's Ninth (in D minor, just to change things up). They are true monuments, before which I feel quite awed. For now, I preferred to take a roundabout approach and start with less demanding works, although they are masterpieces in their own right. Speaking of D minor, I must have a soft spot for this key, because not only is K 466 my favorite Mozart concerto, but K 421 is my favorite among his string quartets, not to mention the Requiem, sticking with Mozart, who incidentally used D minor sparingly. If we go further, aside from the aforementioned Ninth by Beethoven, you could spend an entire afternoon listing masterpieces in D minor, starting with Bach's Toccata and Fugue BWV 565. Am I obsessed, or does this key have something magical about it?

For now, it's the only De André album I don't have. As for live performances, apart from the well-known ones with PFM, I have the one from 1997, unfortunately the last one. I guess I'll have to fill this gap too.
P.S. (see my latest on Gaber) the "annoyed twenty-year-old" I responded to was someone else, who had sent a post in gray, signing off like that. Nothing to argue with you, and anyway the annoyed twenty-year-old wasn't entirely wrong: my beginning, albeit unintentionally, generalized a bit too much.

My response was to the "annoyed twenty-year-old" in gray and not to Morgan, whose compliments I appreciate. However, the weak point of this review was perhaps right at the beginning, even though it was clear that I didn’t want to generalize.

Pre-Beethovenian, I meant to say