Lost in nature, far from the frantic cultural life of big cities, Civitella – dare one write it – appeared to me like a gift from (the) God(s); the escape of a date with calm and silence, only slightly ruffled by the beneficial laughs or friendly words of the other resident artists. Far from the world, this month of August offered me the time for isolated work on personal memory, on the sonorous scraps residual of my past as a musician in search of another music since my travels in Asia; work conceived as the search for a confrontation between the spirituality contained within the notes, within the prolongation of sound, and the understanding of musical techniques which sustain the structure of that expression of human thought. From the molecules of those shattered memories gradually emerged the work to which I decided to dedicate myself. Shifting work, waves emitted from the multiple births of the surrounding mountain. At the point where the anecdote melds into the imaginary. Nourishing myself on the deep hope that this kind of concert for violin and orchestra will sparkle not only with the vanishing perfumes of the Orient, but also with the colored and luminous splashes of deep Umbria.
That, could only be provided by Civitella.
Translated from the French by Lella Heins.