On March 24, 2020, I started what I immediately described as a “kind of madness”: it had been only two weeks since the lockdown began and I decided to launch into a new musical diary inspired by that unusual and frightening situation. The plan was to write, learn, record and publish a piece every three days: a sort of “instant composing” done on an out-of-tune piano, with makeshift means – a single microphone, by the way, poorly suited for the purpose, and an amateur video camera – and, to ensure maximum authenticity and immediacy, without manipulation on the audio recordings, regardless of the inevitable imperfections and “all the noises of real life” that could not be avoided. It was necessary to take a step back, both as a composer and as a pianist, because the time frame I had given myself did not allow for too much sophistication or virtuosity. I realized almost immediately that this, far from being a limitation, opened up a new scenario: that of offering music at service, conceived not so much in a traditional way but as an aural space for listeners to feel safe and connect with their own emotions and thoughts. It serves as a form of meditation and, in a way, as a cure.

It was a deep need that pushed me toward this second album of mine, very different from RINASCITA, but, at times, it was also an exhausting journey: both physically, because, in a different way than usual, I wrote everything by hand, spending long hours all askew, bent over the piano almost to the conclusion of the compositional arc when I succumbed to fatigue and slowed down a bit; and emotionally, because alongside the courage, strength and hope on which I was trying to focus, there was also, and perhaps above all, fear, boredom and frustration. In retrospect, I can say that it was my way of building a bridge with my inner self and at the same time to the outside world, which I perceived as an elsewhere that was never as far away as it was then.

After almost three years, the close connection the pieces had with the terrible events of that period has obviously loosened, but its underlying purpose remains. In today’s world, overwhelmed by social media notifications, headlines, political crises, a changing climate, and a constant sense of impending catastrophe, the temptation to escape from reality has never been stronger. SPRING WILL COME invites us not to do so, to stay awake and in relationship with others, and to practice attentive and patient listening, an essential tool for living a better and more fulfilling life.

Credits

Music composed and performed by Paolo Cognetti

Recorded and Mixed by Filippo Rossi and Lawrence Fancelli at Officina Sonora del Bigallo

Mastered by Niccolò Caldini

Digital distribution: Distrokid

Artwork: Dashti Design Studio

Poems: Maria Ester Mastrogiovanni (MEM)

A year after composing and recording my second solo piano album SPRING WILL COME, I felt the desire to offer a new perspective on the pieces, one that would recover the spontaneity and naturalness that had originally characterized them. So, I decided to spend a day with Francesco Ponticelli at the Cicaleto Recording Studio, a historic eighteenth-century home immersed in the peace and beauty of nature, just minutes from the center of the city of Arezzo, in the heart of Tuscany. Inspired by the place and its atmosphere, I recorded all the tracks in a row and without any editing, trying to capture the essence and emotion of a live performance. To further foster the sense of an immersive and engaging experience, I asked Arianna Fiandrini and Mauro Magrini of Visualcam Production to create a video of the entire experience.

Credits

Directed by Arianna Fiandrini

Gimbal: Mauro Magrini

Recorded, Mixed and Mastered at Cicaleto Recording Studio by Francesco Ponticelli