Enrico Rava
Rava On The Road

Talking about Jazz is difficult for me, as much as I try, it's as if there's always something that escapes me. It slips through my fingers as I type on the keyboard, as if it doesn't want to be qualified, defined, as if my words lose grip on a pavement made slick by a fine drizzle of nuances, counterpoints, syncopations, and swings that say more than they seem to really express. Every drop of that rain helps to create an ocean whose depth seems to never end, and with every listen, something new, secret, and hidden is discovered. Jazz is culture, it's cursed literature, like one of those books that the more I read, the hungrier I am for their stories and characters, which I now feel close as if they were real, friends I don't want to leave, with whom I've shared moments so beautiful that their intangibility perhaps makes them even more magical. Is it for this reason that I can't talk about this music the way I'd like? Among those notes, I've lost myself in the same way I left a piece of my heart among the folds of Middle Earth, while another me is sitting in Arturo Bandini's room waiting for the train to Hogwarts with the idea of also making a trip to the Four Lands, praying to have a little time to visit Ben Holiday in Landover. Because books are this, worlds within other worlds, endless journeys that can only have a soundtrack that is more than just a simple compilation of songs. Jazz is history, it's narration, profound and fascinating. This is why when I first listened to "Rava On The Road," I said: this is musical literature! Here Enrico Rava blends past and present, and the ink of the notes mingles with that of the words, which go far beyond the classic beat of Kerouac to which the title alludes. There is the magnificence of the orchestra of the Teatro Regio of Turin, perfectly in sync with the modern musical conception of an artist who throughout his career has always been able to look ahead while always remaining himself. His trumpet is an indelible signature, a personal brand that unfolds over eleven tracks composing a long and splendid composition with a mood from another time. There is a craftsmanship that encapsulates a romanticism hard to find in a world that pretends to go so fast it appears practically immobile. "Rava On The Road" is journey and atmosphere, music that has the magic of literature and art, a refuge from chaos and noise. Every note is necessary for the composition, just as every letter is essential to understanding a story. The dynamism of jazz improvisation perfectly fits into the solid structure of classical musical conception, in a narration that recalls, with its powerful imagery, works like "Anatomy Of A Murder" by Duke Ellington, another genius who understood the intrinsic power of jazz narration. I'd like to say much more, but as usual, everything slips through my fingers like that drizzle I talked about at the beginning, so I find myself again swerving on that damp road that speaks of dreams and hopes, a place where people like me can let go without fear of falling, where even if you close your eyes, you know exactly where to go.

Enrico Rava: trumpet; Roberto Cecchetto: guitar; Giovanni Guidi: piano; Stefano Senni: double bass; Zeno De Rossi: drums.