This large work for clarinet, violin, 'cello and piano testifies to the fact that music's spirituality can offer a ray of hope even in the darkest moments in which an artist, a human being, may find him or herself. In fact, the conception of this work is strongly marked by the fact that Messiaen had experienced the reality of the concentration camp. It is extremely interesting to hear the performance of this work by young yet already important musicians who, fortunately, have never known such a devastating reality, yet have been capable of infusing this music with expressivity - an expressivity which makes every rhythmic pulsation, every harmonic potential, totally effective - and confirms that works such as this, having no borders nor restrictions, can enter into the most varied and distant existential dimensions.

Many important composers have expressed their enthusiastic appreciation of Roberto Fabbriciani - from Cage to Nono.

The recital which Fabbriciani gave in Sogna exploited a variety of performing spaces - indoors and outdoors - within the village and was, in certain aspects, absolutely unrepeatable. A recording can not fully reproduce this effect, but the concert remains vividly impressed in the memories of those who were present.

The lengthy recital program exhibits the flute in a wide variety of roles demonstrating its enormous potential and eliciting marvel for the wealth of the results obtained by this formidable performer during a "live" concert.

More than 50 years of musical culture have taken place in Florence since the end of World War 2. This should be systematically explored.

Besides the celebrations, it is time to acknowledge that, during the 1960’s, Florence produced a “Musica d’Arte” which could retrieve perception, memory, action and performance, through a dramatic meta-language exalting the potential of emotion and atmosphere through the confrontation triggered by individual experiences, opening the way to discoveries of new creative and poetical horizons. The confrontation and dialogue with several of the historical avant-garde’s most profound sources regarding synesthesia - from Kandinsky to futurism, from Scriabin to Schoenberg and the Bauhaus - was to bring the Florentine approach to maturity. In addition to audible forms for listening, the interaction between gesture, sound and vision became sign, making music utopia.

Teodoro Anzellotti was born at Candela in Puglia, but grew up near Baden-Baden and studied at the conservatories of Karlsruhe and Trossingen under Jürgen Habermann and Hugo Noth. Teodoro Anzellotti is the winner of numerous international accordion competitions. He has performed as a soloist at important festivals (Amsterdam, Hamburg, Berlin, Brussels, Cologne, Donaueschingen, Florence, Milan, Los Angeles, London, Lucerne, New York, Paris, Prague, Rome, Salzburg, Seoul, Venice, Vienna, Tokyo, Toronto, Warsaw, Zurich) and has worked with numerous orchestras (Kölner-Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester, Konzerthausorchester Berlin, SWR Sinfonieorchester Freiburg, SWR Sinfonieorchester Stuttgart, NDR Orchester Hamburg, Dresdner Philharmonie, Deutsche Radiophilharmonie Saarbrücken, Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunk, ORF Orchester Wien, Radio-Symphonie-Orchester Ljublijana). Teodoro Anzellotti is one of the leading accordionists on the international scene. His name is closely linked with the revival of the accordion from the nineteen-eighties on.

Endangered Species is a space, a container which holds my sound archive in little vials of distilled essences. An archive of distillations culled from years of listening to everything from the mumbled sounds in dreams to threatening roars of nature gone mad, from the near absolute stillness of an Italian Ferragosto to the din accompanying a Balinese funeral, Cicadas having sex to mating Bisons, human howling wolfmen, broken fog-horns, Meuzzin calling from Mosques. Having collected these for over 40 years, they now reappear as elemental bits of digital samples – ordered and layered by the 10’s, 100’s and 1000’s as a giant world-instrument which – mapped to an ordinary 88 key Midi keyboard in numerous groups – enables me, like a living musical instrument, to spontaneously play the entire world from my fingertips, recreating and reconfiguring new worlds from moment to moment, day to day occasion to occasion at each act of performance, each Act of Providence, each act of plowing and turning the soil.

Pietro Grossi was trained as a violoncellist and composer. The present opportunity offers us the chance to listen to his early instrumental works and to consider the exemplary coherence which characterized his development throughout the following years. His interest was in the sound’s vibration in time, a horizontal idea of the use of sound which concentrates our attention at times on simple resonances, at times on sine waves, in the search for sound histograms which, most likely, came from his experience as a violoncellist. In fact, he had a constant tension towards perfect intonation – also in the use of microtones – and a full vibrato in the production of the sound. His rapport with the violoncello tended towards a new objectivity which makes one think of Alfredo Casella, certainly not of the long romantic season during which the instrument was compared to the vox umana.

His encounter with electronic music and, later, with the computer, stimulated an exponential growth of his potential while his confrontation with the evolving technological possibilities constantly enraptured him. This brought him, even, to conceive of a listening library electronically elaborating and archiving masterworks of the past, a music deposit for the successive generations.

“Wherever we are, what we hear is mostly noise. When we ignore it, it disturbs us. When we listen to it, we find it fascinating. The sound of a truck at 50 m.p.h. Static between the stations. Rain. We want to capture and control these sounds, to use them, not as sound effects, but as musical instruments. [... ] Whereas, in the past, the point of disagreement has been between dissonance and consonance, it will be, in the immediate future, between noise and socalled musical sounds.” On the double anniversary in 2012 of the centenary of the birth and the twentieth anniversary of the death of John Cage, the quote from Silence is a stimulus for the reinterpretation of some of his famous works, and the most suitable introduction for the journey to the centre of the harp’s sound, from the sweetest and most traditional to the most unusual, unbelievable and unpredictable.

In this journey, Sequenza II by Luciano Berio is a true milestone. It is part of a larger project by the composer (fourteen Sequenze), who wanted to explore and investigate “the measures beyond the measures” in each instrument, in an instrumental theater where one must “renounce the ambiguous category of ‘poetics’,” as well as the expectation of that “ language of other old emotions that time has linked to poetry.” Each Sequenza represents a sort of “witness” to historical virtuosity and at the same time a stimulus for progress towards a new form of virtuosity through extreme exploration and experimentation of the technical possibilities of the individual instruments. In Sequenza for harp, traditional sound idioms are juxtaposed with more exasperated sounds involving desecrating “gestures” that require “tearing “ at the strings, using the wooden parts and tail piece for percussion, the paroxysmal use of pedals and making noises by banging the metal strings.