Ivan Graziani
Viaggi e intemperie

Time, sometimes, is strange. Change, very often, is strange. Change is a symptom of time. And it leaves you estranged.

Viaggi e intemperie is an album I listened to almost two years ago, during a hot summer in a far-flung village of Valdarno di sopra, between an ice cream and the exams that were approaching; I remember I liked it a lot but in the following months, I abandoned it a bit, perhaps to devote myself to other listens, perhaps for studying, perhaps without reason. Today, June 24th of the year 2022, I find myself pulling out this album from the hole, discovering something new: how much this Viaggi e intemperie has a much deeper meaning for me at this moment than it did two years ago. In two years, everything has changed. Two years ago, I was glued to a chair reading piles of books and notes. Today, I am preparing to head into the unknown, also known as Plovdiv, to attempt something new in another part of the world. And as soon as Firenze begins, I see myself in that city that raised me and made me who I am today and at the same time in that Plovdiv that will add further improvement to who I am.

The album's title perhaps is what struck me the most: Viaggi e intemperie, the possibility of reaching a destination and all the challenges in between. I've already had my share of storms, between the bureaucracy of the society that is sending me down there in total collapse with documents upon documents to sign, courses to follow, languages to study; but I believe it's worth it to undertake this journey, to see if it was worth enduring all that went against the current. Everything can end with tarallucci e vino, it's not unlikely, but there's always something behind every corner that observes, deduces, devises, and maybe acts: failure. And the album told me this too: you can end up really bad. You can be robbed by a beautiful girl on a train despite her intriguing beauty and mystery, you can lose your beloved because of an external and more powerful entity, and you can lose the possibility of an escape to a northern country. Everything is possible, even the worst. It doesn't even give you an optimistic perspective, for a simple reason: recovery isn't mandatory. You can allow yourself to dwell on what happened and obsess over that moment without ever getting over it, or you can forget it and, simply, move on with your life. It's a choice.

Maybe Ivan meant to say something different in this album, but the more I think about it, the more this implicit thing gives me comfort and security: failure exists and it's not worth thinking about, it's something that happens reactively or randomly and it's useless to dwell on how it could have been avoided because you can't any longer do it. If I were to fail this adventure over the next three months, I would still return with something new because, for better or for worse, I have changed.

Time is not strange. It's just that it constantly renews. Change always occurs with the passage of time. It leaves us estranged, but reflecting on it, it's the most banal and normal thing that can happen.

P.S.: 5 minutes ago they told me I will work in radio. Finally, de-reviewing at an international level ;)