Description
Ah, so you are the arlia. I recognised it when it arrived and took the song transformed into a lament.
The slow swaying of the snake in your eyes; now they rest on the ground, now they chase the sky.
So you are the arlìa. I support you. Your arms stretch out, cutting through the air, leaving the bed where you still lie, years waiting for the spell to leave you.
I cannot hear. I listen to you, yet I cannot hear. Only a hissing sound from your lips, the whistle of the snake. Because snakes whistle, but I cannot whistle.
I have never been able to. I cannot call you back.
From where will I draw you, arlìa? Will I go and seek the south-west wind, or the north wind to carry away your poisonous breath? I do not know, I still do not know that the wind skimming the ground warms your skin and spreads your moans dispersed in the heat. I will cover you with a cloth to bind your trembling.
And finally, you sleep. An hour, two, or I don’t know why, but I can’t sleep. Increasingly lucid, I look among your paintings, the candles, the clothes hanging out to dry. I cut out paths. I will take you into the woods, perhaps, among the leaves, you will find the canvas that captivates you. But you don’t want to come. And you rock back and forth, shaking your head. I will rock you, then, so that you sleep or return with my rings of sound.
And finally, singing, you wake up. You don’t want to come with me to bathe in the river, but at least you drink.
One of the ancient women sang, and here I have come without any escort, I have come alone with my song.
(Dina Staro, Monghidoro, January 1984)
Golden Chains and Silver Knives is a cruel tale with harsh features.
We use stories, experiences and sounds as scalpels of the soul and rings of strength, silver knives to cut the fatal winds of the ridges and gold chains to bind the precarious wanderers and dancers.
The people of the Apennines do not “name” pain and love, they act on them and pass on their effects in sound, song, dance and celebration. These are forces of death and life that flow, binding experiences and cutting limits. Thus, having discarded adaptability and rejected innocence, we expose strident contradictions of sounds and movements, the same ones that we, as musicians, grace and govern differently in celebration.
Because this journey is dedicated to ourselves, to the dark side of celebration, to those who have accompanied our lives. A thousand dedications from our memory, each song a breath of other lives.
Dina and Ricardo, 28 May 2024
This post is also available in: Italian
