I just found out: Guido Zaccagnini has passed away, a historic voice of Radio 3.
He was a true communicator, capable of capturing attention and interest even from shamelessly ignorant people like me, presenting great Music and handling a rich and vibrant vocabulary with naturalness and meticulous care, sometimes infused with ironic and light tones, sometimes capable of striking and brilliant syntheses.
And then there was that natural cordiality, that tendency to downplay his own qualities (if he had to read some listener messages, he often chose those containing critiques, not always of a civil tone), that seemingly effortless ability to make different registers coexist, moving from cultured and refined quotes to simple and enlightening jokes or anecdotes.
In short, for someone like me, who has been engaged for decades in the fruitless effort to reduce even a little the vastness of their ignorance, figures like his are a blessing.

And the passing, at 70 years old, of Guido Zaccagnini struck me like that of an old friend you hadn’t seen in a long time but who held a place in that strange thing inside you that we will call the soul.

P.S. Among the many condolence messages from Rai3 listeners that I heard while coming back from work, I smiled at one that recalled a self-introduction phrase from some occasion:
"Good evening, I am Guido Zaccagnini, and I can't do anything about it."

Goodbye, Mr. Zaccagnini.