Valentina Giovagnini
Creatura Nuda

That Valentina Giovagnini remains only a memory is a shame. No, this is not yet another necrophilic praise of a presumed masterpiece discovered, surprise surprise, after the sudden and unexpected death of an artist, but a consideration that arises from taking a quick glance at the current situation of Italian pop: amidst the invasion of talent shows, which churn out mass-produced items of questionable quality, and melodic singers who have only recently discovered the existence of electronic music, we miss albums like "Creatura Nuda".

Let’s be clear, it's not an indispensable masterpiece and Giovagnini was certainly not the first to look, artistically speaking, beyond national borders, but she was one of the few to have done so attentively: the strength of this debut is indeed the ability to skillfully blend her two sides, the more pop one (after all, the album was published following Valentina's participation in the Sanremo Festival) and the one that draws from Celtic folklore, without one overshadowing the other and without leading to forced or unnatural passages. Instruments like the bagpipe (in the Sanremo piece "Il Passo Silenzioso della Neve" and the splendid "Senza Origine") or the tin whistle integrate well with the carefully crafted electronic arrangements of the tracks, creating sophisticated and suspended atmospheres, unique (the "Bjork-like" "Metamorfosi" and the beautiful title track, but also the pop of "Libera" and "La Formula"), enough to forgive a couple of missteps ("Mi Fai Vivere" and "Dovevo Dire di No (Il Traffico dei Sensi)", a bit too pandering to the charts). The result is a record that may not be highly original, but in its own way unique and, especially when compared to what Italy has been proposing lately, still fresh thirteen years after its release.

A good breath of fresh air, then, further enhanced by an ethereal voice, but at the same time powerful and significant as few can boast, and, returning to the initial statement, it is truly a shame that from Giovagnini we have only this debut and the posthumous "L'Amore Non Ha Fine": if well advised, someone like her could have definitely made a difference here in Italy, but there it is, wallowing in self-pity doesn’t really serve much purpose and sooner or later, hopefully, someone will indeed pick up her legacy, giving a nice shake to the national-popular flatness… or not? In the meantime, getting lost among the bucolic landscapes of "Creatura Nuda" certainly won't be bad.