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A continuous flow of energy led me to compose my first album Idyll Of a Frame. I put together stories and messages that maybe never as now, just being released, I wondered if they were part of me or something higher. I say this because the objective universe of art does not belong only to musicians, poets, and painters. The sincere approach to our fears, to what makes us feel blocked, is a great act of love, creativity, and inspiration. All of us can reach it. It’s true, doubt remains, emptiness and mystery remain. But isn’t that wonderful after all? That door that you can see from the album cover, leads to darkness or a light that can only be reached in the time that remains. Because, as a great maestro once said, "We are passing through." The means to honor the creative and positive flows that I have the opportunity to capture during the day is music. In the case of Idyll Of a Frame, I pay tribute to life through an "idyll of a frame" or more in detail through a moment of inner dialogue, a dream, a way of seeing one’s soul from a different perspective, as if we were looking it through a magnifying glass. Nice feeling, even if only for a second. Just like the photograph and the cover photo of Idyll Of a Frame is a photograph of my grandfather, made in exploration, who knows where in the world. There are also within the album, different shades of colors belonging to my roots. Naples is the city where I live, work and breathe every day. It is also the city where I grew up, where I fell and got up.
Some tracks, referring to the tracks "Monteoliveto," "Lyra" and "Polvere Di Napoli," come from a walk made by my recording studio, located in Monteoliveto 75, towards the city. On a journey without the time and a precise destination, I meet a Naples seen perhaps for the first time or never seen at all. A walk never happened or happened only in my blurred and clouded thoughts. Everything in between is part of new aspirations, books, friendships, and experimentation.
Finally, a special dedication is found in the song that closes the album, Kaito. My piano is a Japanese Tokai and I wanted to dedicate a track to it for all the time I spent with him learning,
more and more, about the language of music.