Poetry's strength is unexpected.
It always surprises us, probably because there is lesser and lesser of it around us. It overcomes geographic distance, generational features and language differences.
It drags us to a sublime level, since it moves into a space without reference points and crosses the boundaries of what we can see, hear think and imagine. But how it comes that we speak of poetry for a musical artifact?
Because Sabir Mateen and Silvia Bolognesi, in "Holidays in Siena", are poets, first of all. Far from a worn out romantic concept (inspiration, destiny...) they create sounds, mix, contrasts, silence spots, that show not only contemporary anxiety but also the joy of playing together.
And it is not so easy.
In a duo you can't lower your guard, you can't let a phrase slip out of you hand, as well as an idea, a doubt, a spur that comes from the other. You must take all this in, digest it, polish it and then you must either revitalize it or throw it away, should it bring in a dead end. You must be brave and bold, nimble and patient in a duo...maybe even ironic. Jazz is the mean, the password to access, the common idea. Jazz is the knowledge the musicians have deep inside, ready to use. Never a ritual or a locked place, a sparkling creative path instead. In an ideal continuity, always energized and boosted, it creates the bases for a very intense performance, during which Silvia Bolognesi replies to loads of shining things said by Sabir Mateen by fixing some rhythmic cornerstones, to end up getting excited in building a terrific labyrinth of sounds played with clear class. It does not make much sense, therefore, to mention Coltrane's universal dreams or Rollins' adventurous joy, Mingus' furious pleasure of playing or Holland's sound urge. Not only Mateen and Bolognesi have all this and much more, but they are also driven elsewhere, far away, by their poetic license that set them free.
So far away that somebody will not like "Holidays in Siena". Perhaps the same person in which no consequences are left by Fontana's scratches, by Rothko colors, by Joyce words or by Cage's silences. Because poetry, music, art are for everyone, but not everyone knows it.
Recorded at the Teatro dei Varii (Colle Val D'Elsa - Si)
On Dec 2010
Rudi Records 2011