project
Lisa Ferlazzo Natoli Gianluca Ruggieri
the director and narrator Lisa Ferlazzo Natoli
musical direction and percussion Gianluca Ruggeri
assistant director Alice Palazzi
care images Maddalena Parise
"It is only by the voices
understand such struggles, there, such as wounds ..."
Osip Maendel'stam
Blok heartbreak; Esenin suicide, hanging in the odor of murder, Mayakovsky, only a pistol. Pasternak a long long exile. How
Hawks in flight, we shot on the verse and biographies, to throw and then dive on what had attracted our attention: a cadence, a move his early life and the last part of their lives, and through poetry has preserved the integrity of a house, a radicatissimo deep sense of soul, of resistance and of their land.
In that passage from one era to another that it was the October Revolution, in the midst of a world of before and one after - there is a mutation that sheds new foundations on the ruins of Great Russia, a hint of the future, and already in a contradiction, a fault from which date back to ancient roots. These two Russias tried of an alliance and is on the threshold between these two times that have disintegrated, abandoned by their homeland in the Revolution turned into a Soviet as "any island of St. Helena," Yesenin writes: "It is difficult to fit into a living being" . Whether singing
Esenin colors and long stretches of the Russian steppes, or Mayakovsky to steal the city street lights and illuminated signs, is in their lines like a flavor that has the rhythm of many drums and the refrain of a ballad popular attraction for a remote past of the future presented in the mesh. It's called a nose for history, vision, brings the gift of a sharp intuition for subtle trends cataclysms a dance on the edge of the abyss voluntary.
We imagined a sort of quadrilateral: memory and a hairdryer, an imprint of the spirit and direction of lines and stormy life that has brought them to the end. The score will go towards an abandonment - Les Adieux, in fact - moving progression of abstraction on the matter and the earth, from familiar landscapes to unknown territories, returning only to leave as possible, that of a word that is home, even parent that of the end of nostalgia.
Bells, ding-dong-nio memories scattered to the wind, the roar of a thousand drums, patches of blades and foil, steel that is pressed into the throat, the breath of ancient songs, singing with that The wind whistles, jingle bells and rolling balls, soft echoing thunder. Storm that changed the world, and come back in future carcasses of cars and debris in remote sounds pompous.
Blok - "The Merry biting cold wind and play happy with the traveler, ripping cloaks sign holder above the people, all the constitutional powers"
Esenin - "I want to live, live, live / live to fear and pain (...) In a flame blue eyes brightened, the wind / To teach me love of heaven, / teach me and I'll do anything / anything to tinkle in the garden of men "
Mayakovsky -" You tear the soul and trample it to be bigger, and I will give bloody, like a flag "
Pasternak -" ... related to everything that exists, convincing and attending the daily life in the future, you can not avoid in the end an incredible simplicity, but we will not be saved if we can not keep it a secret, more than any thing is necessary to men, but they intend to make all this is that whole "
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