Da questa parte del mare

DaQuestaParteMare.200
After “Altre Latitudini” (2003), Gianmaria Testa has released his new album, “Da questa parte del mare”, a turning point in his artistic production, in October 2006.
It is a “concept album”, wholly focussed on a single topic. Thus, the album has been thought of as a novel and the songs are its chapters. All of them together tell a story.
The plot is that of modern migrations. It is a poetic meditation, a series of unbiased and non-demagogic reflections on recent years mass migrations. Gianmaria reflects on the reason(s) why so many people undergo the sufferings of leaving their own country, crossing deserts and seas looking for a better life. He explores the meanings of “land” and “country”, the feelings of uprooting and dismay linked to the idea of being forced to move away, irrespectively of the country we live in.

Gianmaria Testa


"Da questa parte del Mare"


November 14th 2006



Produzioni Fuorivia / RadioFandango / Harmonia Mundi


CD


#TitoloLength
1The corn sowers [play] [lyrics]

The corn sowers

[cincopa AYJAySrQHq_C]
at dawn they arrived
men and women at the tableland
with a measured, silent, slow tred
that of corn sowers
and they looked for something that was not there
at the dump and at the railway
and they looked for something that was not there
behind the police’s binocs
and they bowed their hands and eyes to the wind
before going away


to the road and with the night around
they came from the tableland
men and women with a thoughtful look
that of corn sowers
and they left there what was not there
behind the dump and the railway
and they left there what was not there
behind the policemen’s liquid eyes
and they spread out their hands against the wind
that blew them away
3:12
2Rrock [play] [lyrics]

Rrock

[cincopa AELABSL-IOB-]
It was not like that,
the way they described the sea
it was not like that
and then, at night,
what can you see
someone’s screaming
he says it’s late
and we have to go
someone’s screaming
and we have to go

my father is not here
he stayed alone, crunching the road
because, he says,
war will be there
wherever you go
I left him at our place’s door
while he was spitting
as if it were a greeting
I left him while he was spitting
as if it were a greeting

it was not like that
the way I thought I would’ve gone
no, it was like that
as thieves, at night,
in the hands of a sea thief
and my father at his place’s door
looking at the ground
as if he knew
and my father looking at the ground
as if he knew
5:17
3SOMEONE TOMORROW PERHAPS WILL NEGLECT [play] [lyrics]

SOMEONE TOMORROW PERHAPS WILL NEGLECT

[cincopa A8HANR7kIS0-]
someone tomorrow perhaps will neglect
a light at the front door
uncared
alight for the night
and alight for the coming day
alight for the night
and useless for the passing day
‘cause a light during the day is alight
only for those who can see

someone tomorrow perhaps will ignore
a voice at the front door
neglected
the voice speaks to the night
and it speaks to the coming day, too
and it speaks to the night
and’s muddled in the passing day
‘cause a voice during the day fades out
if nobody answers

someone tomorrow perhaps will forget
his name at the front door
forgotten
it was lost at night
and it is lost in the coming day, too
it was lost at night
and during the passing and consuming day
‘cause a name is lost forever
if nobody calls it
3:47
4A DARK BOAT [play] [lyrics]

A DARK BOAT

[cincopa A4LAhRr5Iul_]
at the bottom of the sea a siren sings
she sings all the night and
she sings quietly
if you want to listen to her
she is barely audible
at the bottom of the sea a siren sings

in the midst of the sea a dark boat sails
its sail has lost the wind, it has lost the wind
he who is waiting for her is still waiting
in the midst of the sea a dark boat sails

at the bottom of the sea
at the bottom of the deep sea
I leave my song unable to soothe
who has left and
has lost his way in the world
at the bottom of the sea
at the bottom of the deep sea
4:31
5Spider web [play] [lyrics]

Spider web

[cincopa AQCA2SbqJCJA]
I’m the hanging spider’s web
I’m the rotten, stagnant water
I’m the sore scab
An old wound
I’m a fly making the glass filthy
I’m embers burning a cushion
I’m an alarm clock ringing at the wrong time
Early in the morning
And I’m the barking dog at night
I’m paint staining your clothing
I’m a train arrived late,
when everything was over
And I’m trouble, worry, hindrance,
I’m a salt clot between teeth
I’m the forgotten key
and the shut office

I’m a wintry power black-out
I’m a wheel of your car in a ditch
I’m the one begging
At the red traffic-lights

I’m the storm destroying ripe corn
I’m the hiccup that doesn’t stop
I’m the precious ring
Lost in shallow waters
I’m the hammer on the finger and on the wall
I’m the letter that doesn’t arrive
I’m the useless thing disposed of
And now usable
I’m the queue in the wrong lane
The black cat crossing your path
The missed connection
That left from another track
I’m the wet shaking hand
I’m sugar instead of salt
I’m the secret lover
Who’s calling at Christmas

And I’m sand stinging the skin in the bed
A black-beetle climbing you up
I’m the one begging
At the red traffic-lights

I’m dust in the gear
I’m the other side without the medal
I’m the needle found with the foot
In a heap of straw
I’m the lost winning ticket
I’m the tap dripping the drop
I’m the spat spittle
offending your face
I’m the slumming door in your face
I’m the denial you didn’t expect
I’m private shame
Turned into public reproach
I’m the chance’s left hand
I’m the silence freezing a greeting
I’m a running rescue
5:19
6The step and the spell [play] [lyrics]

The step and the spell

[cincopa A8CA8RLbJerA]
in certain places I just look at the sea
a dim sea that cannot be fathomed
sea and land that, sooner or later, ‘ll seize us
and I leave the way to the others, I leave the gait
and to the others I leave a way of speaking
that isn’t like me

but I’ve already been here,
maybe under a spell
I’ve already been here
I recognise my gait

the step of who left not to come back
and stares at his feet and at the white road
road and feet because he is short of everything else
and at his back not even a greeting to forget
behind, only the sky, and that’s all

but I’ve already been here,
maybe under a spell
I’ve already been here
and I was measuring the step

it’s better not to make noise when you arrive
alien to the chance of another shore
foreigner to the enclosure of another border
from the sea that capsizes the boat
from the stern sea that cleans the wave

and here I came
retracing my steps
here I came
to find the spell again

the spell in those salty sandy black eyes
eyes that can’t be tear-wet
open eyes just for me
refuge from the cold madness of crossing
eyes that I still feel close to me

here we got lost
dispossessed of the spell
here they lost us
and I can’t find the steps

in certain places I just look at the sea
a dim sea that cannot be fathomed
sea and land that, sooner or later, ‘ll seize us
and I leave the way to the others, I leave the gait
and to the others I leave a way of speaking
that isn’t like me
this way of speaking that that isn’t like me
5:04
73/4 [play] [lyrics]

3/4

[cincopa AMAAKSrjJ6hB]
I wanted to treasure for you
the afternoon moon
I wanted to treasure it for you
because it is unique
as bravery is unique
I wanted to treasure for you
the dawn light
I also wanted for you
the waiting that turns into return
I wanted to treasure for you
the truest rose
I wanted to treasure it for you
as everything else

I wanted to treasure for you
just one of so many seasons
but I wanted to treasure it for you
only for you and all the others excluded
I wanted it was for you
the last held breath, too
I wanted to treasure for you
this burning fire

I wanted to treasure for you
the afternoon moon
I wanted to treasure it for you
because it is unique
as bravery is unique
I wanted to treasure for you
the truest rose
I wanted it were for you
as everything else
4:27
8AT PORTA PALAZZO MARKET [lyrics]

AT PORTA PALAZZO MARKET

[cincopa AULAnT7xJ2OC]
at Porta Palazzo market
they’re queuing, they’re queuing
girls looking at boys
are queuing, they’re flirtatious
and they let ‘em fancy
under their skirts, under their skirts
and they let ‘em fancy
under their skirts, black skirts

and at the dock, and at the dock
they’re queuing, they’re queuing
men that can be beaten
are queuing on the concrete
and they let themselves searched
under their coat, under their coat
and they let themselves searched
under their coat to be mended

but in a wintry moon morning
there was the snow, there was the snow
in the square all hell broke out
everyone asking how and where
from the dock’s queue
someone’s shouting, someone’s shouting
and at Porta Palazzo square
girls are breaking the queue

and there’s one lying on the ground
on the melting snow
and there’s one lying on the ground
and all the others are circling her
and at seven forty-five
he was born, he was there
at seven forty-five
they placed him on a flowers stall

your (papers) identity card, please
says the town policeman
just arrived from the dock
to see what’s going on
your (papers) identity card, please
and a customs declaration
this is a case of child delivery
on the city’s public ground

but papers are not available
and eye-witnesses cannot be found
just people pulling to one side
circling cloves and gardenias
papers are not available
and almost nothing to eye-witness
except the fact in a wintry moon day
all the square wanted its flower

at the dock they’re queuing again
they’re queuing, they’re flirtatious
girls looking at boys
men that can be beaten
and they let themselves searched
under their coat, under their coat
and they let ‘em fancy
under their skirts, black skirts
3:41
9Ritals [play] [lyrics]

Ritals

[cincopa AsOASSbwJOvC]
and yet we knew that, too
the smell of the ship hold
the bitterness of parting from
we knew that, too
and a language to forget
and another to learn quickly
before riding a bicycle
we knew that, too
and our breath misting shop windows
and lukewarm bread
and the shame of non-acceptance
we knew that, too
this dumb look

And we knew the endurance
of those who cannot stop
and the holy charity
of the holy giving away
we knew that, too
the colour of the insult
and a tiny and thin living
that doesn’t turn into home
and our breath misting shop windows
and lukewarm bread
and the shame of non-acceptance
we knew that, too
this dumb look
4:10
10THE MINE [play] [lyrics]

THE MINE

[cincopa AcGA1TLpJOXE]
When in every Mexican tavern
Everybody dances to the sound of the ukulele,
you can hear a distant, mournful song
it’s the dark skinned miner who migrated there
his song is the exile song.

Starry sky, sea-coloured sky
You are the very same sky of my hut
Bring me to my motherland during my dream
Bring her a longing, dying heart.

In the mine there are just gleams of flares,
kids, wives, sisters and mothers cry
but all of a sudden the dark skinned miner
says to the people who rushed there: if you are irresolute
I’ll go there all alone as I am lone.

And in the night a yell is comforting those who are in sorrow, mums they are safe and sound, the miners are back
Just one is missing, the dark skinned one,
but to save him nobody’s there.

Starry sky, sea-coloured sky
You are the very same sky of my hut
Bring me to my motherland during my dream
Bring her a longing, dying heart.
3:20
11HOMETOWN [play] [lyrics]

HOMETOWN

[cincopa AoMAeQbPJ-HF]
it is
a city to us
a little town
where trams don’t run
but
the river flows
and over the river, leaves
and over the leaves, the sun
in November in a flash
the shiny iron
of big cities
where trams goes by
1:44
[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_facebook type=”button_count”][/vc_column][/vc_row] Musicians :
Gianmaria Testa: voice, guitar
Enzo Pietropaoli: double bass
Gabriele Mirabassi: clarinet
Claudio Dadone: guitar
Philippe Garcia: drums, percussions
Paolo Fresu: trumpet
Luciano Biondini: accordion
Bill Frisell: electric guitar
Greg Cohen: double bass
Vittorio Piombo: cello
Piero Ponzo: saxophone
Piero Salvatori: cello
Sebastiano Severi: cello

Production : Paola Farinetti for Produzioni Fuorivia
Pre-production: Gianmaria Testa, Paola Farinetti, Claudio Dadone, Matteo Testa, Luigi Testa
Artistic production: Greg Cohen

Recorded at Fonoprint, Bologna (Italia) by Roberto Barillari – Adjoined sound engineer: Davide RovieriBill Frisell recorded at Track Shack, Seattle,Washington (USA) by Matt Brown for Emerson77 Productions

Mixed: Fonoprint, Bologna (Italia) by Roberto Barillari – Adjoined sound engineer: Diego Ferri except for Rrock and Tela di ragno mixed at Brooklyn Recording Studio, New York (USA) by Andy Taub

Mastering: Maurizio Biancani – Adjoined sound engineer: Fausto Demetrio – Fonoprint, Bologna (Italia)

Graphic Project: Danilo Manassero
Cover: graphic concept by Danilo Manassero from an Ivo Saglietti’s photo

Photos: Ivo Saglietti, Marco Caselli Nirmal. For Bill Frisll: Jimmy Katz, Luciano Viti

Translations: Michelangelo Conoscenti (English) – Danièle Valin (French) – Michael Blümke (German)

Editions : Produzioni Fuorivia/Radiofandango/Nunflower; except for Miniera – Bixio C.E.M.S.A.
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