写真

Photographer's Note

Vorrei dedicare la mia centesima fotografia al mondo della musica. Ho sempre pensato ai musicisti con una sana invidia. Invidio il loro essere legati al proprio strumento, la loro capacit di parlare un linguaggio universale e, allo stesso tempo, vivere in una dimensione che appartiene solo alle 7 note e a loro stessi. Il contrabbassista al Caff Florian di piazza San Marco accompagnava con le sue note "Revirado", un brano di Astor Piazzolla. Aveva una espressione molto ispirata, e non si accorto di me mentre lo fotografavo. Sui piedi immobili, sembrava ballasse anche lui, la mente chiss dove :-)
Paolo Conte musicista, paroliere, chansonnier, immedesimandosi forse senza troppa fatica in un suonatore di Milonga, ha scritto questa
canzone


I would like to dedicate my 100th photography to the world of music. I have always envied the musicians. I envy their being legacies to own instrument, their ability to speak a universal language and, at the same time, to live in a dimension that only belongs to 7 notes and themselves. The contrabbassist to the Caff Florian on Piazza San Marco accompanied with its notes " Revirado" , a piece of Astor Piazzolla. He had a very inspired expression, and he hasn' t realize of me while I photographed him. On its immovable feet, he also seemed danced, its mind goodness knows where: -) Paolo Conte musician, lyricist, chansonnier, identifing himself with a Milonga's musician, perhaps without too much hard, has written this song


... Beeing involved with a green Milonga
the musician enjoys and goes exhuast
And you'll got me green Milonga
'cause you were written for me
For my sensibility, for my polished shoes
For my time, for my taste
For my whole tiredness, for my miserability
You'll got me green restless Milonga
you rip me a ceasefire smile at every single chord, while you drive my fingers mad
....
Here I am
I came to play
I came to love
And secretly to dance...
And let's suppose that Milonga was a song, well I...

...well I awakened her, and drove her to a slower rythm
Then the Milonga showed much more of her, much more than it could appear...
Her african's origin
Her zebra's elegance
Her being form the frontier, a green frontier...
A green frontier among playing and loving, a green spectacle on the run still to follow up...
to follow up always, to follow up again,
until the white lakes of silence...
Till Athaualpa, or some other Gods,
will tell you "move apart boy, that It's my job here.."

baddori, polpo56, jlbrthnn, Dashab, magalik, Mari63, paololg, Giorgio, Silvio1953, TopGeo has marked this note useful

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Additional Photos by Simonetta Gasparini (BluSimo) Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Note Writer [C: 576 W: 4 N: 1591] (9392)
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