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| Michela Musolino |
By Giovanni di Napoli
Last Thursday (October 27, 2011), I made my way through the cold rain to see AcquAria at Casa Italiana Zerilli-Marimò (24 West 12th Street) in Manhattan. Unable to attend their previous performance in Queens a few days earlier and missing the Canzoniere Grecanico Salentino show at Casa Italiana on October 3rd, I certainly didn't want to miss another Southern Italian concert. There are precious few opportunities to see culturally significant shows like this and the cozy auditorium, with its fabulous acoustics was the perfect venue to enjoy such an event.
Fronting AcquAria are the sensational vocalists Michela Musolino and Vincenzo Castellana. Ms. Musolino (whom I've had the great pleasure of seeing in concert before) is blessed with a hauntingly beautiful voice, which at will can channel the volcanic power of Mount Etna and erupt into the most sublime rapture. She is also an accomplished percussionist in the rich Sicilian tradition. Mr. Castellana is an equally gifted and versatile artist who plays many instruments, including the friscalettu, marranzanu and brogna, or seashell horn à la Triton. Together, they composed an impressive repertoire of music in homage to the Mediterranean.
Accompanying the duo on stage were Arturo Martinez on the guitar, Vito Galante on the double bass and Thomas Chess on the flute and mandolin. The talented ensemble spirited us away on a magical journey to the coastal recesses of beautiful Sicily, which Ms. Musolino reverently referred to as "a diamond in the sea and a gift from God."
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| Vincenzo Castellana |
The show began with the legend of Colapisci, a wonderful song from Messina about a young Sicilian boy who loved to swim so much that he turned into a fish. Tradition has it that Sicily was in danger of sinking and the boy answered his King's call by swimming deep beneath the sea to find the cause. He discovered that three pillars supported the island and one was badly damaged. The little merman worked tirelessly to repair it, thus saving his beloved homeland. To this day, according to the legend, the selfless Colapisci diligently looks after the crumbling columns.
From heroic altruism AcquAria turned to ill-fated love. U Pisci Spada is a romantic song about two lovesick swordfish written by the great Apulian singer-songwriter Domenico Modugno (1928-1994). Caught by fishermen and unable to escape, the female swordfish implores her lover to flee and save himself. Unwilling to live without his mate, the male swordfish ignores her plea and leaps out of the water onto the boat to die alongside his love.
Of course, not all the songs were based on fables — many recalled the harsh realities of Sicilian history and the awesome power of Mother Nature. For instance, they did an amazing rendition of Gricalata, a modern day classic about a deadly tsunami written by Luciano Maio. The heartbreaking song brings to mind the deadly earthquake and tsunami that devastated Messina and Reggio Calabria in 1908. Based in Amsterdam, Mr. Maio's band Taberna Mylaensis (like AcquAria in the U.S.) still finds solace and inspiration from their beloved Sicily.
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| (L-R) Arturo Martinez, Vito Galante and Thomas Chess |
Needless to say, tragedy is the wellspring of many songs and Sicily has had her fair share of tragedies. Bonagia is a traditional lament about loved ones snatched away by Saracen pirates. Although set in a small fishing village in the Provincia di Trapani, the threat of slavery with little or no hope for redemption was a fact of life for many centuries across all of Southern Italy. "If Mother Mary doesn't save us," the dirge chillingly ends, "then we'll fall into the hands of these stinking dogs!"
When they weren't worrying about raiders kidnapping or murdering their men folk, wives were fearful about where their husbands were sleeping while away. Amuri, Amuri (My love, my love) is an emotionally charged chant about a jealous woman who curses her lover for having another woman make his bed. These chants were usually sung by women along the shores to help guide the fishermen back home. They also allowed women to speak their minds. The use of a large tamburo, with grains of rice in it to mimic the rhythmic sounds of the surf, was an outstanding effect that helped set the mood and transport us to the coast.
So precarious was life that a safe return with a bountiful catch was usually cause for celebration. Accordingly, the concert ended with a few uplifting and festive tarantellas celebrating life, love and, of course, the sea. Musolino and Castellana twirled in wild abandon beating their castanets and tambourines to the increasingly upbeat tempo. Stylistically different from the somber chants and lamentations, the tarantellas allowed the audience to experience the full spectrum of la musica popolare di Sicilia.
I cannot overstate the importance of these types of venues. They are rare opportunities for us to keep in touch with our historical folkways and should be supported at all cost. When incredible artists like AcquAria perform them, it makes the experience all the more joyous and memorable.
