Remembering Ezio Bosso
💔 EZIO BOSSO 💔
🎼🎶🎵🎶🎶🎵🎶
Late one night not so long ago, while I was sitting outside the hotel where I was staying in my favorite Italian village, a car pulled up from out of the dark night and a group of gregarious people spilled out. From their boisterous conversation I could tell right away that they were Romans, artists, characters of culture and intellect (and of probably more than a few wild stories). But there was one person in that group who caught my eye, a beautiful man in black clothes and a black knit cap pulled over his head leaving one glossy tendril of dark hair to frame his face. Compared to his lively companions, he was quiet and still; he exuded a powerful energy that I have encountered only a few times in my life. Immediately, I understood that this man-- whoever he was, this stylish and astoundingly beautiful man in a wheelchair-- was at the core of the group, and likely he was a big deal. We all shared some typical Italian convivial greetings, and the group eventually wandered inside. I was left to wonder who that man was-- a vintage punk rock star? A famous artist? Fashion designer? A member of the Roman literati?
The next morning at breakfast, as I was slowly blinking awake to my cappuccino, I felt a little jolt of excitement when I saw that same guy approaching the table next to me. He definitely looked just as cool in the light of day, dressed in skillfully layered bits of black and possessing an unusually beautiful face. He sat at the table next to me and we shared some morning pleasantries, nothing much; to my regret, just a few short minutes he looked at the clock and said he had somewhere he needed to be, and he said goodbye. As soon as he swooshed out of the room, my friend who was working there approached me in excitement and said "Do you know who that IS??? He's presenting in an hour so get yourself dressed immediately and go see him. You must go, Lisa! Hurry!"
His name, it turns out, was Ezio Bosso and he was one of the most famous men in Italy, a legendary pianist, composer, and conductor. From the age of 16, he performed and conducted orchestras around the world; until a few months before I met him, he was the director of the Verdi Opera Theater in Trieste, Italy. He was incredibly gifted and he spent his life as a devotee of music.
In 2011, he began to suffer from a severe neurological disorder that robbed him of his physical functionality: walking, standing, speaking, using his hands. As of last September, it had progressed to the point where he ceased to be able to play the piano.
That day, I did go to see him speak. (Thanks, Alessandra!) I witnessed this man, who struggled with the ability to string sounds and words together, deliver a talk to a group of 100 people who were absolutely rapt with attention, hanging on to his every word. As we sat in that garden on that beautiful September afternoon (a place called L'orto dei Frutti Dimenticati, one of my favorite places in the world), I realized that this man was a genius, and that we were all incredibly lucky to be in his presence. Sitting under that tree in the garden that day, I was at one with the land, at one with the people around me, and at one with the life that had blessed us with such a gifted man and a beautiful soul.
I was back in Pennabilli the following year, last September, looking forward to seeing Ezio Bosso again, as he was coming back to speak at the "Festival of Forgotten Fruits" ( Gli Antichi Frutti d'Italia s'incontrano a Pennabilli, thanks to Andrea Guerra Composer). We’d all be back at the same hotel, he’d be speaking under that same tree. However, at the last minute, we learned that the Maestro was not well enough to make the journey. And just this morning, I learned that Ezio Bosso, musical genius and a spirit of incredible strength and wisdom, passed away on May 15, 2020 at the age of 48.
RIP, Maestro. I hope that you were right, that as you enter the 12th Room you are able to see again the 1st.
Ci rivedremo in un altro viaggio, ne sono sicura. ❤️
p.s. That day, after my friend convinced me to go and see Ezio Bosso speak, I rushed to my room to get ready to head out. I looked up his music on Spotify, so I could learn what he was all about. The music I found was beautiful, moody, moving, modern classical.
At one point, as Bosso’s music played, the bells from one of the towers in town (there are two, Penna and Billi) started to ring -- and amazingly, the bell tones were in the very same key as the music that was playing. Those bells finished their series (it would've been 10 or 11), and then the music I was playing had a change in key, probably just a step or a half-step modulation. And then the OTHER bell tower started to ring, in different tones than the first bells... and amazingly, the second set of bells were in the EXACT KEY that the song had just shifted to!! It was a musical miracle that I experienced that day, and a sign that I definitely had to go see what this guy had to say. Pure magic. (By the way, this is all part of the magic of Pennabilli, the place where a large part of my heart and spirit remain today.)
