I came to this project in a completely unique way: on the contrary, as I always do, that is, starting from the bottom… actually from the shoes.

Following the industry news, I read that Politecnico Calzaturiero will make eighteenth-century style shoes for Casanova Pop Opera and I found it an initiative worthy of applause, considering the great opportunity given to the students.

We are in the District of the Riviera del Brenta: a highly specialized footweaar production area, made up of leading companies at the forefront of Made in Italy, also strong in a complete and integrated supply chain.

But let’s go back to Casanova, and this time maybe let’s start from the head: Red Canzian

The first guitarist, then actually bassist, that I have known, I think, as a child, joined Pooh to replace Riccardo Fogli.
1973: they record the album Parsifal and from then on it’s history.

Red has always maintained a strong bond with his places of origin, even if very often the final syllable of his surname is pronounced with a not typically Venetian accent … I know something about it …
Seriously, it is no coincidence that his words “Veneto is a state of mind that cannot be told” ring true and heartfelt.

Veneto therefore, and above all Venice, precisely on the occasion of its glorious 1600 years.

Veneto. Venice. The scenes are entrusted to Massimo Checchetto artistic director of the 2020 Carnival

Veneto again: Matteo Strukul.
Red speaks about his book

Have you ever read Giacomo Casanova, the sonata of broken hearts, or any of his other books?
Me unfortunately not, but I hope to remedy this shortcoming soon.

In the meantime, I would like to point out Sugarpulp: more than a blog, a real complete microcosm.

Lyrics by Miki Porru whose debut is linked to Red Canzian, and arrangements by Phil Mer who received his first drums from Red when he was 4 years old.

Directed by Emanuele Gamba, of whom I read about collaborations with Daniele Abbado so I would pass the word to Matavitatau in case he wants to give us his opinion.

The choreographies are entrusted to Roberto Carrozzino and Martina Nadalini who have already collaborated for Discoteque Machine after Martina’s great liberating gesture which remains the reason why she is mainly remembered and therefore I will not mention: her growth is visible not only as regards the known raven hairstyle.

They say they have already fallen in love for Casanova Pop Opera and are sure we will fall in love too.
I would say that the ingredients are there and the expectations too: in general I have a weakness for musical transpositions and this Casanova intrigued me, what do you think? Can we expect beauty?

Praise the beautiful for their intelligence and the intelligent for their beauty.
Giacomo Casanova



”Whatever ” you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Monica dedicated this sentence to me as one of her many encouragement.
Audacity and I are not even distant relatives and you will tell me “yet you had a lot of courage to participate.”

True! In fact, thank you very much Il Perdilibri for giving this opportunity and for accepting me.

I suggest you also read the stories of past editions which are really very interesting.

Regarding the 2021 edition, in addition to Il Perdilibri, I also thank the other participants who supported me, and even endured me, although they are much better: I had the opportunity to broaden the horizons of knowledge but also of reflection, to learn, and especially to read BEAUTIFUL things.

Then, if you like, there is also mySunset” 

One hundred and seventy-fourth day of captivity, I am writing only now, after my damned jailer has repeatedly prevented me.
Yet I had deluded myself into a loosening of retaliation after my last escape attempt, at the moment when I could taste the food today.
I hadn’t eaten like this since the early days, when the coward still allowed me to go out and walk.
At the first spoonful I felt the desire to bite: an unexpected desire to eat that I didn’t let go.
It was extremely satisfying after all this time to be able to decide to do something with a simple impulse.
When you lose your freedom, nothing is taken for granted. Not even the brief sleep I fell into after devouring everything I could.
But now I wonder what induced the coward to let me seize these moments and I fear he intends to strike me.
I am so tired of feeling like a prey, of feeling totally vulnerable, of annihilating my strength by dint of defending myself.
With my fingers I touch the scar, in the braille writing that I invented I decided to read the word alive, I have been doing it since the day I thanked for those points that put my life back together as well as my skin.
But now the challenge has shifted to the psychological level: my body is almost completely atrophied, but my mind is not.
He knows it well and has honed his perfidy.
Every time I tried to escape, he recaptured me and locked me up in a worse condition than the previous one. Exactly like a noose, but leaving me the breath to allow the suffering to manifest itself in all its devastating repertoire.
Today I was winning until he came back: I feel him so much that I can see the bright red of his fire like a November sunset that sets the sky on fire.
I understood: the time of the night has come.
The time has come when that cowardly carcinoma will swallow my light.



Americo wrote the story of his memories in the comments: so beautiful that it can’t just stay there with the risk that someone will lose him.

I report verbatim:

With pleasure I bring back my childhood memories.

In addition to my biological mother, I have had other mothers like Derna and her cousin who welcomed me in Ancona and raised me as their son, surrounded by all the attention.

In particular I want to remember Derna Scandali, the well-known trade unionist, who at era worked hard to organize the arrival and entrust it to the families of us little southerners in the smallest details.

She set in motion an exceptional organizational machine for the time that, despite the post-war poverty, solidarity with us was not lacking.

Derna and her cousin lived close by, she had an independent life and every day we found ourselves at the table all together, day and evening.

She also organized the colonies, she took us to the sea and we children had fun.

Thus the summer days passed.

But I also want to remember my mother.

I did everything to avoid staying in my country because I knew the poverty of the South well.

Seeing me sad and no longer eating for the regret of having left Ancona, she reluctantly let me go in order to know that I was happy and to have joy in my eyes, since she knew I was in good hands, even if she was pleased (rightly) to have me with her and to see me grow.

Today I feel guilty for this, just for not having given her the joy of seeing me grow up, at the same time, however, I think back to that child who in Ancona had everything, for me it was a world that I have always defined “with colors”.

I understood that only a mother’s great love for her child can make this happen.

I often wonder what I would have done in her place: probably the same, I would have let my son go too.

Unfortunately, these great women have all disappeared, but I cannot forget all the positive things they have done. Their memory is always alive in me.

And if today I am what I am, I owe it to them.

I would say that Americo’s words paint exactly the very essence of being a Mother.

Who knows how many times you too will have faced the consideration of how it is not so obvious that mother understood as the one who gives birth, coincides with mother understood as the one who has the ability to dispense love beyond herself.

There are too many stories of children abandoned or abused by their biological mothers. There are too many stories of children forced to grow up without receiving affection.

Americo, on the other hand, tells us about the demonstration of immense love from his true Mother, who accepted his “world of colors.”

And at the same time, simply showing himself for the person he is, testifies that those who welcomed him made it possible for him to continue growing in the best possible way.

The strong sense of family is therefore, if possible, even more enhanced for Americo, who is very fond of the memory of his parents.

For this, I can understand the bitterness in seeing one’s story told in some parts and then transposed into a completely different context, especially with very distant family references.

To recap: I became fond of the character described in the book by Viola Ardone thinking that it was fictional, only to discover instead that he really exists, that he really traveled on the train and which was truly welcomed and hosted by Derna.

And not only: thanks to Giovanni Rinaldi we got in touch and I had the opportunity to know the reality and to understand that one feels cheated knowing that starting from a basis of real facts, and in the absence of specifics or disclaimers, most people would think that everything else is true as well.

This is why I take the liberty of giving voice to the child Americo who has never cut off the tails of mice or picked up rags, and who as a child, as well as when he grows up, teaches us to want a colorful world made up of good people like them.



As a real mess I always do things backwards, of course, but this time it doesn’t matter!

Loredana Marconi studied the architecture of her work so that starting from the “sequel”, as I did, does not in any way affect the immersion of the story while reading.

Nuvole is in fact one of the evolutionary scenarios of the Il soffio collection.

I found the author’s idea of associating five different types of wind with as many options that represent life’s “routes”, but also moods, and attitudes to face the journey that destiny reserves.

Loredana’s inspiration, whom I thank very much for her availability, was born thanks to this tile depicting the wind rose, found on a Maghreb stall on the Anguillara lakefront.

Speaking of the lakefront, a huge thank you also for the photo with the cup of coffee!

For those who follow Loredana it is automatic to become interested to the shots that she publishes because they tell moments of serenity and beauty of our country.

The Clouds, on the other hand, led me to fantasize about a dream island while at the same time making me feel a little like home, thanks to the features of the characters that contain the familiar aspects of a small community, always maintaining the top important basis of friendship, the true one.

And you? Where would you like to go with the wind?

Pin It on Pinterest