MR. G ALREADY KNEW EVERYTHING...
An excursus through Gaber's production, between his prophecies/distopias that later came true in sometimes shocking ways and the lateral visions of our lives, amidst daily habits and tics, miseries and aspirations, the political and the personal.
We pick it up from the beginning of the second part of his career, a time when he took his texts, his own and those of Sandro Luporini, on endless theatrical tours all over Italy, where the audience would intervene as was customary then, standing up and expressing their views, even in open opposition to the artist, who would respond and sometimes come out worse for wear, sometimes not. Now, it seems that one would prefer to simply like him on Feisbucc or become a hater, since it seems that no one expresses anything in public anymore, limiting themselves to hiding behind a nickname or a small finger.
I sometimes find myself wondering what he would think about this or that event; indeed, at times I would be curious to know, like this...
Giorgio Gaber - Al bar Casablanca (1992)
"At the Casablanca bar, with a Gauloise, the Nikon, glasses, and on a chair the red headlines of our newspapers, faded blue jeans, a beard stained with a bit of ice cream, we talk, we talk, about revolution, about the proletariat..."
An excursus through Gaber's production, between his prophecies/distopias that later came true in sometimes shocking ways and the lateral visions of our lives, amidst daily habits and tics, miseries and aspirations, the political and the personal.
We pick it up from the beginning of the second part of his career, a time when he took his texts, his own and those of Sandro Luporini, on endless theatrical tours all over Italy, where the audience would intervene as was customary then, standing up and expressing their views, even in open opposition to the artist, who would respond and sometimes come out worse for wear, sometimes not. Now, it seems that one would prefer to simply like him on Feisbucc or become a hater, since it seems that no one expresses anything in public anymore, limiting themselves to hiding behind a nickname or a small finger.
I sometimes find myself wondering what he would think about this or that event; indeed, at times I would be curious to know, like this...
Giorgio Gaber - Al bar Casablanca (1992)
"At the Casablanca bar, with a Gauloise, the Nikon, glasses, and on a chair the red headlines of our newspapers, faded blue jeans, a beard stained with a bit of ice cream, we talk, we talk, about revolution, about the proletariat..."
Dislocation
15 jan 21
DeRank ™: 17,65
Loading comments slowly
