Pippo Pollina
Dodici lettere d'amore

THE REVIEW

Pippo Pollina, whose name sounds more like a cartoon character than a singer-songwriter, is a glaring example of a brain drain.

Born and raised in Palermo, adopted by Switzerland, he decided in his early twenties to abandon his law studies and travel around much of Europe, earning a living as a street musician. He played on sidewalks, in subways, in venues, meeting and telling the stories of people and places; he was first noticed in Lucerne by Linard Bardill, a Swiss singer-songwriter who would become a great friend, and it was he who started his recording career, which would take root in Central Europe—Switzerland, Germany, Austria, then France—but never in his native Italy.

At least not until 1998, when finally one of his albums ("Il giorno del falco") was published in our country; from then on, he would gradually begin to earn the esteem of the people who gave him birth. Over his career, Pippo Pollina sings about characters from every land—rebels, anarchists, pacifists, artists like himself, from Victor Jara to Leo Ferrè, from Violeta Parra to Annemarie Schwarzenbach. He pays homage to countless poets and writers (among the many are Gabriel García Márquez, James Joyce, Jacques Brel, Cesare Pavese, Charles Baudelaire), and he surrounds himself with great musicians from the international scene (Charlie Mariano, Inti Illimani, Franco Battiato, Robbie McIntosh, and Saturnino, to name a few). He sings in Italian, German, French, writes not only songs but also books, soundtracks, and continues to roam the small stages.

"Dodici lettere d'amore" was released in 1995 for the Central European market and the tour that followed took him as far as Egypt. It encapsulates all of Pippo Pollina's music, his stories, his history, his culture, and his enormous soul. Love becomes the common thread in his tales dictated by the wandering spirit that will characterize him as long as he lives ("Questo vivere solitario", "Malatesta"), by portraits ("Passioni"), by others' stories ("L'uomo coi fiori in mano"), by characters he loves to sing about ("Leo"), by his newly born son ("Julian"), all the way to a great, poignant declaration of love for his birthplace ("Per amare Palermo"), a city mocked and mistreated, chosen somewhat as an image of entire Italy, which still does not recognize his emigrant song.

The musical style ranges from electric rock ("Seconda republica") to acoustic, from folk singing to slow melodies almost to piano bar tunes, with Pollina's rough voice becoming angry, in love, playful, drawing inspiration from various domestic models, perhaps with Ivano Fossati in the forefront but with Faber underneath.

An invitation, if ever needed, to reevaluate the treasures of our country.