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Rating: A few lines from "The Leopard", in the very last pages, are memorable because Don Fabrizio reflects on his life, wondering, of the seventy-plus years recorded in the civil registry, how many he has truly lived: just over three, he thought. But he specified that all the time spent observing the stars (he was passionate about astronomy) should not be counted: it was a taste, a foretaste of the eternal peace he would enjoy in the afterlife.
Well, the two hours of concert that Paolo Conte gifted to Naples on the fifth evening (very humid) were scraps of paradise (secularly understood), slices of eternity. Forgive me for not providing the exact setlist of the pieces performed, but I prefer to follow the order of memories, according to a growing degree of intensity. "Alle prese con una verde milonga", with a richer rhythmic section, captivated me more than the version on the CD ever did, aside from the lyrics, as incomprehensible as few others. "Come di", wonderfully rich in swing, an indirect homage to the audience in Naples ("..like an orchestra deluded in Naples.."), made the five thousand (?) people at the arena sway. "boogie" live was played exactly as it was on the CD, while Max was an endless Bolero whirl which then spilled into the unforgettable first notes of "diavolo rosso", the most applauded piece of the evening, also for the extraordinary sweat of guitarist Daniele Dall'Omo.
Genova per noi, for voice and piano only, was met with thunderous applause both before and after, but the peak was reached with "sotto le stelle del Jazz", listened to in religious silence by the audience, except for the inevitable hissing on the long "jazzz. . . " by Paolo Conte. Bartali elicited some mocking smiles ("and the French get angry, their nerves still rattle"), sparring partner fascinated, via con me carried the audience into a deep dream, a secret and entirely inner dance. Intermixed with the others lo zio, gioco d'azzardo, molto lontano and elegia. He concluded with la vecchia giacca nuova and then returned to the stage to perform via con me at double speed, engaging the audience with the refrain.
Greeted by endless applause, he returned after a few minutes to the stage acclaimed loudly, and here with an unmistakable gesture (kaputt) he made it clear he couldn’t continue due to the humid heat and understandable digital fatigue. For him, the certainty of not being scolded even in Minneapoli, for us, a delightful flavor of jazz on the palate...
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