A Closer Listen

After enchanting us with solo piano works for many years, Fabrizio Paterlini has expanded his ensemble.  While some chapters of his Secret Book have been written for the ivories alone, others include roles for string quartet, synthesizer and programmed drums.  This is not an unexpected development; many of today’s most popular pianists have done the same in recent years and have found themselves breaking into new markets, most especially cinema.  And while we hesitate to call this music cinematic, it does open with “Movie Theme”, a clear reference to the silver screen.  The first hints of a larger sound appear on “Narrow Is the Way”, and while the classic appeal of traditional instruments is somewhat muted by the percussion, at the same time one begrudgingly admits that wider audiences may give it a spin because of the drums.

It’s hard for a composer to know where to draw the line between acoustic purity and crossover appeal.  Paterlini splits the difference, including tracks such as “While everything burns” to remind us of his primary talent.  When one hears these pieces back-to-back, one experiences a wider range of dynamic contrast than one is used to hearing on the artist’s records, but relaxes knowing that the synthesized tones on other tracks are still considered adornment rather than their compositional core.  The most effective blend is on “Space Walk”, where the synth is but a series of beeps, eventually disappearing to highlight the artist at the piano, like an astronaut on a solo walk.  The least effective: “shARP”, which begins with synth and handclaps, and later adds synthesized voice.  It’s harder to write piano music than patterns, so when patterns dominate, one can miss the complexity, even when it’s there.

The deep azure blue of the cover implies confidence, the opposite of the “blues.”  Over the course of the album, Paterlini displays his confidence by switching among tonal styles.  There’s something for everyone here.  For us, the go-to tracks are the dramatic “Before the storm” and the gorgeous “Leave”; we’re still reminiscing.  As we listen, we’re simultaneously happy and sad: sad to lose another artist to the mainstream, and happy at his likely success.  The theme has played out over the course of music history between artists and fans; we want to keep them for ourselves, but we also want our friends to like them.  Then when our friends’ friends begin to like them, and so on, we often feel like we’ve lost something.  But it’s just as easy to feel pride in “knowing someone when”, which is the case here; we suspect this secret book won’t remain a secret for long.  See you at the movies!  (Richard Allen)

 

SentireAscoltare

C’è un una dimensione “romantica” tutta italiana, in questo disco di Fabrizio Paterlini. La si coglie, oltre che nella musica, anche nei titoli dei brani (My Piano, The Clouds, Empty Room, Conversation With Myself, If Melancholy Were Music, Wind Song) ma soprattutto nel modo in cui l’album è nato. Otto tracce conseguenza diretta di un’iniziativa dello stesso Paterlini, che nel 2012 chiede ad alcuni amici di spedirgli qualcosa che simbolizzi il concetto di “malinconia”. Gli arrivano immagini, frasi, pensieri, a cui lui pensa bene di ispirarsi per comporre The Art Of Piano.

Le differenze rispetto al passato sono minimali e risiedono tutte nel fatto che questa volta il musicista si affida esclusivamente al pianoforte, senza appoggiarsi agli archi che avevano caratterizzato il precedente Now. Poco male, perché le melodie strumentali che il mantovano riesce a cavar fuori rimangono qualcosa di così personale e al tempo stesso immediato, da non avere bisogno di molto altro. Le potremmo definire chill-out o ambient, ma così facendo ci parrebbe quasi di far torto a una musica che invece respira a pieni polmoni la lezione di Chopin, Erik Satie, Yann Tiersen ma anche di un Ludovico Einaudi, pur restando, nel suo minimalismo, qualcosa di davvero peculiare.

Nel peggiore dei casi, dischi come questo stanno in una forbice tra il supponente, l’intellettuale gratuito e la copia carbone di altri dischi, proprio perché veicolano la personalità del titolare del progetto senza troppi filtri (e non è sempre un bene) o abbracciano un mercato di massa fin troppo accondiscendente: nel caso di Paterlini – autore ben accolto più all’estero, che in patria, viste le uscite discografiche in Giappone, le citazioni su alcuni magazine specializzati americani e inglesi e le date live in Oriente e in Russia – la sensazione è di trovarsi di fronte a un compositore sensibile, acuto e capace, astratto da una contemporaneità fugace ma ben calato in una musica che ha già i crismi del “classico”.

RockShock

Negli ultimi anni, la musica neo-classica e in particolar modo le composizioni per pianoforte solo, sono tornate alla ribalta con risultati più o meno apprezzabili. A questo genere appartiene anche Fabrizio Paterlini, musicista e compositore mantovano con all’attivo cinque album che hanno avuto un buon riscontro soprattutto a livello internazionale. Il suo ultimo lavoro, The Art of the Piano, è un ritorno al primo amore dopo un periodo di contaminazione e sperimentazione e all’essenzialità del pianoforte come unico mezzo di comunicazione.

Parzialmente disponibile in download gratuito, The Art of the Piano esce, almeno in Italia, come autoproduzione in formato vinile e precede un tour che vedrà l’artista impegnato, tra gli altri paesi, in Giappone. Si tratta di otto tracce molto intime e personali (e ciò risulta chiaro sin dai titoli scelti), in cui il pianoforte torna a essere il protagonista assoluto, appena scalfito in superficie dai pochissimi elementi che vanno a intersecarsi con le sue melodie, cariche di emotività, riflessive e malinconiche, ma mai angosciose o grevi. I pezzi, caratterizzati molto spesso da un andamento circolare, trasmettono turbamenti ed eccitazioni in una cavalcata verso un climax che poi imbocca una fase discendente per ricongiungersi infine al mood iniziale.

Per il musicista lombardo il piano è qualcosa di familiare, in grado di creare atmosfere dilatate e di sottolineare un’eleganza compositiva che eleva il trasporto emotivo. If melancholy were music (dal titolo di uno dei passaggi più riusciti di questa recente produzione) avrebbe il suono e la struttura dei brani di Fabrizio Paterlini

Onda Rock

Il giungere di una mail con press release e link di download di un disco attribuito a un potenziale nuovo nome del piano solo italiano tende in tempi recenti a incutere un certo timore. Nel nostro paese, ormai si sa, più ancora che nei grandi bacini musicali le cose seguono spesso un modello evolutivo tipico: qualcuno – una volta i talent scout e le radio, oggi gli spot pubblicitari e la televisione in generale – pesca quasi dal nulla un brano a caso di un artista a caso, con esso bombarda le orecchie di un pubblico il più possibile borderline per poi lanciare la patata bollente a major e addetti ai lavori vari che in men che non si dica ne fanno un fenomeno mediatico.

C'è chi da questa dinamica è riuscito a ricostruire daccapo una carriera in precedenza vissuta sperimentando all'oscuro dei più (Roberto Cacciapaglia), chi la svolta l'ha vissuta in maniera meno epocale potendo vantare già una certa notorietà (Ludovico Einaudi) e chi ancora attraverso di essa si è costruito un personaggio di pura recita nonostante un valore artistico radente lo zero.
Fatto sta che nel giro di due anni la generazione dei pianisti ha vissuto una proliferazione che nemmeno ai tempi della new age: basti pensare che chi scrive è riuscito a trovare nel giro di due anni ben due potenziali rampanti – Francesco Trento e Bruno Bavota, quest'ultimo appena tornato con uno splendido e inatteso cambio di rotta stilistico.

Fabrizio Paterlini in realtà è tutto fuorché un esordiente: al sesto album fedelmente autoprodotto, regala una chicca che a dire il vero forse nessuno si aspettava. Cita Max Richter come suo modello primo, ma la sua musica risente almeno in parte della tradizione italiana, più semplice, spontanea e popolare: e proprio in una terra di mezzo fra quest'ultima e l'accademismo del filone modern classical recentemente divenuto tendenza vanno a collocarsi gli otto limpidissimi ritratti a pastello che compongono il disco. Il tema portante dell'intera raccolta esplora con impagabile originalità il rapporto emozionale tra malinconia e serenità, rivelando alcune fra le ambientazioni più profonde e penetranti mai partorite a riguardo.

Le luci fioche della partenza di “Somehow Familiar” disegnano soffi vitali su un paesaggio livido e dimesso, non dissimile da quello su cui “Broken” ricama con delicatezza ed eleganza un lamento soffocato. Una malinconia mai melensa avvolge il candore fioco di “Midsummer Tiny Song”, dove l'autunno si fa largo nonostante il titolo ingannevole, e trova il suo compimento massimo nelle fluenti cascate di lacrime di “If Melancholy Were Music”, rifugiandosi poi nella dimensione intimista della commossa “My Piano, The Clouds”. Proprio fra le nuvole grigie, il dialogo interiore di “Conversation With Myself” suggerisce un primo, ipotetico varco, che si fa più nitido e cosciente fra le mura di “Empty Room” per poi essere aperto dal soffio liberatorio di “Wind Song”.

Il tasso di sorpresa è notevole, l'impressione di aver ignorato per anni un potenziale egregio rappresentante del piano solo a livello internazionale, prima ancora che italiano, altrettanto. Non ci sono rivoluzioni o spunti che siano in grado di rinnovare un genere in cui anche distinguersi per capacità evocativa è diventato ormai sempre più difficile, ma una manciata di perle composte da due elementi indispensabili come cuore e passione. Che costituiscono sempre più merce assai rara e da tenersi stretta.

Music Won't Save You

Se la malinconia fosse musica: questa la traccia concettuale che ha ispirato Fabrizio Paterlini per gli otto brani compresi in “The Art Of The Piano”. Non si tratta del nuovo album del pianista e compositore mantovano, bensì di una raccolta-omaggio al suo strumento d’elezione, nata per caso dall’immaginifica suggestione iniziale in un periodo nel quale Paterlini stava lavorando al suo ultimo disco “Now” (2013), nel quale l’ingresso dell’elettronica e di un quartetto d’archi aveva rifinito – ma niente affatto emarginato – la fragile intensità del suo pianoforte.

Dall’idea di base Paterlini aveva tratto spunto per rendere disponibili in download gratuito, nel corso di alcuni mesi, le tracce oggi raccolte in “The Art Of The Piano”, con la sola aggiunta dell’inedita “Wind Song”. Le otto composizioni offrono concise declinazioni della malinconia, incarnata da armonie minimali, la cui essenzialità risuona come in un’atmosfere ovattata, che ne amplifica il contenuto espressivo. In generale placide e riflessive le brevi pièce disegnano con tocco lieve scenari di soffusa introspezione, attraverso note distintamente stillate piuttosto che sovrapposte.

È, anzi, la sola “If Melancholy Were Music” a presentare un andamento lievemente più vivace e articolato, come a suggellare la profonda vitalità dei moti dell’animo sottesi alle affascinanti sublimazioni della malinconia attraverso le note del pianoforte.

A Closer Listen

A quarter of a million fans can’t be wrong.

Two years ago, Fabrizio Paterlini asked his friends to describe their impressions of the word melancholy.  Their responses inspired him to write the track, “If music were melancholy”.  But it didn’t end there.  In his free time, he wrote piano miniatures and posted them on his Soundcloud page.  After 250,000 hits, he knew he was onto something.  Now these tiny tracks are collected in the form of an album (on white vinyl!).  A follow-up to the wintry Now (which was selected as one of our Best Winter Albums of 2013), The Art of the Piano encapsulates a sense of forlorn nature, stillness in the midst of white, peace in the middle of a swirling world.  It’s a perfect panacea to wintry woes.

Even before playing these tracks, one intuits the theme.  With titles such as “Empty room”, “Conversation with myself” and “Broken”, the album seems to address seasonal affective disorder with an empathetic ear.  Yet while The Art of the Piano may be melancholic, it’s not sad.  A certain dignity can be found in these grooves, the dignity of discovering beauty when color has faded all around.  It’s a sweet irony that the vinyl is white, while the cover includes brighter hues, like a cardinal seen in snow.  The set also includes one summer track (“Midsummer tiny song”), and concludes with the relatively upbeat “Wind Song”, the last piece to be recorded.  In this piece, Paterlini seems to be saying, hold on, the brighter days are coming.  The song ends in mid-thought, challenging listeners to respond by returning to melancholy, or venturing forth in hope.

One advantage of this album is that it allows us to hear the artist unadorned.  As much as we love additional orchestration, the solo piano provides nowhere to hide, and the performance seems more intimate as a result.  There is, as the title implies, an art to the piano ~ it’s not enough to play the right notes in the right sequence.  Paterlini is a tender performer, comfortable with silences, capable of turning a tender phrase with the high keys while sublimating the low.  This artist’s love for the instrument, combined with the fact that these pieces were initially meant as gifts, makes the listening experience feel personal, rather than commercial.  The white vinyl is the added touch that bridges the gap between performer and listener.  

Headphone Commute

Hey Fabrizio, how are you doing? Anything fun going on in your town this weekend?
I am doing fine! I just had a relaxing weekend with my family. There was a nice festival in Mantua, a sort of “New – Age” themed stuff with yoga, music and a lot of people with good food and wine. They never miss in the place I live!

What is your particular music background? Did you study classical composition?
I don’t remember a single day in my life without music, played, listened or even imagined. I started learning piano when I was 6, then at 8 I began studying classical music. After that, I went to the Academy here in Mantua, completing five years out of 10. Then I made some friends and we put a band together: we wanted to be famous and we played some kind of hard/prog/rock inspired by ’70s classics (Genesis, Pink Floyd, Emerson, Lake and Palmer). From there on, I played all kind of music. Strangely enough, I also was the lead singer in a Pantera’s tribute band! It was only at the age of 34 that I came back to my first love: the piano.

I’ve definitely noticed the progression in your sound throughout the years. How do you think you have evolved as an artist?
I think that progression in sound goes together with evolution in life. See, every artist is (or should be…!) so worried about not being repetitive in composing – the point is that living life and making experiences always gives you back something: the difficult part is being in the flow and let this precious feedback get out from your fingers. So the key is trying to live in the present, being centered and bring this balance while composing, at least, this is my way.

How did you meet the artist London-DC? Tell us about your collaboration on “Now”.
Using electronics in my music is something that I’ve started thinking since I wrote “Still Travelling”, the delayed piano piece included in my Fragments Found album. That is why my “Week #1” in Autumn Stories opens with a light electronic background. It was a sort of continuity between the last song of Fragments Found and the first of the new album. Last Summer, while surfing SoundCloud, I found some extremely delicate and light electronic music. I checked the artist better and I discovered Davide’s sounds. There was something extremely familiar to my ears in the way he was approaching music, so I contacted him and we started collaborating on few tracks. Only after 3 or 4 songs, I asked him if he wanted to be part of my new album.

I’d love to play your pieces myself. What are your thoughts on releasing sheet music to accompany your albums?
I always release sheet music together with my albums and I do that because beside being a composer I am also a musician and when I find something I’d love to play I always check for music scores! Publishing sheet music gives to way of distributing music a totally different perspective: it gives people the possibility to play the music I wrote by putting inside their soul. One of the best thing is when people upload their performance on YouTube using my music scores: I love listening to what my music becomes when played by others’ hands.

I’m watching your YouTube live session from Digitube Studio for the fifth time, as I’m writing these questions. Talk about that particular experience.
It was weird! Playing alone in a studio and knowing at the same time that a lot of people were listening, it was really exciting! There’s an increasing number of people that ask me when I will be performing at their places: as you know, I still have some difficulties in booking shows on my own, so I decided to make a streaming concert to give them, somehow, the feeling of how it will be, when I will be playing live for them.

What kind of piano do you have at home? Is there a difference in instruments on which you compose vs. make the final recording?
Yes, there’s a huge difference! I grew up playing and studying on a Schulze Pollman upright piano and at home I use a Kawai MP8ii, a digital piano with wooden keys and real mallets. I haven’t enough room to place a real piano, yet. Final recordings of my records has different pianos, it depends. I’ve played a Kawai KG3, a Yamaha C3 and a Steinway D Model.

What is a process of your composition? Does it start with melodies in your mind, or sketches on the piano?
It rarely starts with melodies in my mind. It mostly starts with attitude: there are some moments I feel like composing is the only way I can put some pressure out of my body. So, there is a time in which I feel I need to sit down in front of my piano and start playing. In those sessions, ProTools is always ready to record what I played, since almost all my compositions are pure improvisations. Then, it also happens that I write some sketches and refine them later on, but usually I adopt a more instinctive way of composing.

Here’s a really bizarre question / statement. In the last few years I noticed that I play ‘better’ when I’m just a little bit drunk. Is there something about giving up control that allows the fluidity of music to travel through my fingertips? What are your thoughts about that and how do you manage your own nervousness before a live performance?
For me it works at the opposite: I usually try to be in full control when I play live. Before a performance, I usually visualize the sequences I’ll be playing and while playing the concert I try to be as much as possible focused on what I am doing and what will become next. I want to make sure I consciously do my best to control every single part of the piano I am playing. So, the best way to win over my own nervousness is trying to be a part of the piece I am playing.

If you could write music for a film, what would be its story and would you be the main character in it?
Ah, this is a difficult question! I suppose it would be something extremely melancholic, but not sad. Melancholy is all but a sad feeling. I would like the story to bring audience the message that if you really want something, it’s likely you’re going to achieve it, sooner or later (while talking about this, images of the movie Billy Elliot came into my mind, for example).

Who are your favorite contemporary and classical composers?
Beside listening to artists like Ludovico Einaudi, Max Richter and Olafur Arnalds (I love every one of them, each one for his particular way of composing music), I am recently into Greg Haines’ music, or Sylvain Chauveau and Brambles. As you can imagine, since Spotify has been made available in Italy, this list is far to be still!

What are you working on right now and what is on your horizon next?
Right now I am trying to bring my music live, as much as possible. After being in Belgium a couple of months ago, I am still looking for European festivals here around and, in the meantime, I’ve booked a couple of shows in Italy. But bringing my music live is definitely where I am focusing my efforts right now. And, yes, I am already thinking to my new release.

Headphone Commute

Sometimes inspiration comes in waves. Sometimes it doesn’t come at all. More than often, it is something that is wished for, but can never be forced. In fact, there is an equal force pushing back at your entire being if you try to squeeze a little of it out. And although there is no sure cure for a dry well of ideas, motivation or a simple writer’s block, at least there is quick bump that may get you going. This catalyst for inspiration comes in a form of music. At least for me it does. And this particular album, appropriately titled, Now, by Fabrizio Paterlini is what usually compels me get up and out of my chair, walk over to my piano, and begin to play…

The thirteen short sketches on the album are all carefully curated with just a sprinkle of electronics and post-processing effects, while Paterlini’s gorgeous piano playing is in the foreground of each piece. Adding strings as an accompaniment gives the music that regal feeling to which the melancholy tightly clings. The particular close placement of the microphones to the instrument captures the intimate environment and brings the music near, revealing multiple intricate details of the performance, from the moving wooden hammers of the piano to the fingertips on its ivory keys. But at the center of each composition is a majestic melody that resonates long after the music fades away…

“It is fitting that composer and pianist Fabrizio Paterlini was born and lives in the ancient northern Italian city of Mantua. A romantic and historically significant centre of musical and artistic excellence, the city’s elegance and cultural depth permeate Paterlini’s exquisite original solo piano compositions.”

I’ve been following Paterlini’s music and watching him slowly evolve over a course of three years now, previously singing praise to his self-released Fragments Found (2010) and Autumn Stories (2012). In fact, I loved his last album so much that I invited him to contribute a piece to my benefit compilation, …and darkness came, which even appears on Now as a bonus track. For this album, Paterlini once again goes the self-publishing route (I suspect that he will soon be snatched up by one of the bigger labels), and takes on a grander pursuit in attention to detail and sonic quality of each piece.

The additional effect processing has been contributed courtesy of an artist only known as London-DC, whom Paterlini met via Soundcloud and invited to color the piano and the strings. This particular atmospheric treatment is especially haunting on track like “Harmattan”, where it approaches almost cinematic quality, which really reminds me of the music by Ólafur Arnalds, Max Richter, and Jóhann Jóhannsson. And I don’t drop those names here lightly. If you love the above artists, plus the piano by Dustin O’Halloran, Nils Frahm, and Ludovico Einaudi, you will love the new album by Fabrizio Paterlini. And let the inspiration flow…

A Closer Listen

2012′s Autumn Stories made our Top Ten Modern Composition list, and since then, pianist Fabrizio Paterlini has gotten better.  That album possessed a sparse beauty; this one bursts with an array of colors. Paterlini has taken some chances on Now, adding more strings and percussion and even some electronics.  This is a bold move, but it’s the right time to do it.  The field has developed a large gap since artists such as Peter Broderick and ‘Olafur Arnalds have chosen to nudge toward vocal arrangements; there’s nothing wrong with this choice, but we prefer the instrumental.  As long as new artists pick up the banner, we’ll be able to relax.

While Paterlini’s performance remains gentle, his newest album seems to be graced with a greater confidence.  We can still hear the pull-back of the muted hammers, an intimacy that draws attention to the humanity behind the release.  Ironically, the keys have undergone a process of “effecting and editing”, although the seams are undetectable.  The ivories seem to be struck less hesitantly, perhaps the result of an increased confidence.  Paterlini has described this as his “snow” album, a possible hint that spring and summer albums will follow.  The interior art portrays a winter scene, but the presence of a swimming pool and a swing indicate that the melt is near.  After all, “now” is part of “snow”.

Now contains many moments of pure piano, and even when Paterlini is accompanied by friends, he’s still the firm anchor.  The tenderest pieces, “Silent Eyes” in particular, act as nocturnes.  On this track and “Iceland”, the strings serve primarily as an enhancement, content to remain in a supportive role.  Perhaps they are so patient because the artist has been so generous with the spotlight.  On “After the rain there will always be the sun”, he plays a simple melody that yields to an upfront cello motif.  A great humility is present as the piano is not the loudest instrument in the house, nor in this piece the main character.  The surprising “Not from the past, nor for the future” takes it one step further.  The string line tackles a “Lacrimosa”-like melody, while the drums erupt in only the second minute.  A sudden sense of immediacy envelopes the recording, honoring the title.  On “My Perfect Time” and “Harmattan”, the string quartet is particularly effective, although the best is saved for the emotional finale, titled – ahem – “Finale”.  Strangely yet pleasantly, those who purchase the hard copy will find that the finale is not the finale, but is followed by two bonus tracks, a present to old school listeners.

“I really hope you will enjoy the direction I took with this release”, writes Paterlini on his Bandcamp page.  We do.  We like the fuller sound, and we appreciate the choice to stay instrumental in a world that needs more quality music in this vein.

Mainly Piano

Autumn Stories is the fourth full-length album from Italian pianist/composer Fabrizio Paterlini. Last year, Paterlini composed, recorded, and released for free on the internet one new song each week, starting on September 21 and ending on December 21, 2011. Autumn Stories is a compilation of those fourteen tracks (the physical CD contains three bonus tracks, which I have not heard). In the first three months, the project received more than 18,000 plays and 4,000 downloads - very impressive! The remixed and remastered release includes some electronic textures as well as a string quartet along with Paterlini’s grand piano (most of the pieces are solo piano). Sometimes describing his music as “red wine on a summer evening,” its melancholy moods communicate deeply, soothing the soul and sparking the imagination. Often compared to Ludovico Einaudi, Paterlini’s music isn’t overly showy or complicated, but the emotions conveyed go straight to the soul. It is interesting to note that all of the pieces are titled with the week in which they were created (“Week 1-14”), leaving it up to the listener to interpret what each piece is about. Several of the pieces would be perfect in the soundtrack for a moody or deeply-affecting film. I fully expect that Autumn Stories will be one of my favorite albums for 2012. It is truly awesome how deeply affecting this music is.

“Week 1” begins with some atmospheric sounds before beginning the dreamy and nostalgic piano melody. “Week 2” is one of those wonderful pieces that would be simple enough for a child to play, but there is no way a child would have the experience to convey the gentle tenderness and emotional depth that the piece expresses. “Week 3,” a piano and cello duet, is mournfully sad, almost tragic. It begins with the spare and heart-stirring main theme, changes to a more dramatic middle theme, and then returns to the first theme, trailing off at the end. Amazing! “Week 5,” which also contains strings, is as soft as a whisper, telling a haunting story of hurt or loss. “Week 8” is an elegant and evocative piano solo - soft spoken and intimate. “Week 9” is another favorite - simple and understated with a very big emotional impact, kind of like a Chopin prelude. “Week 10” is sparkling and magical. “Week 11” is dark, mysterious, and intensely beautiful. “Week 12” is another favorite. A very simple but heartfelt melody is backed with slowly-flowing broken chords that create a feeling of movement. “Week 14” brings this incredible album to close with a piece that resembles a hymn. A continuous low cello note in the background adds atmosphere as the piano bids a warm and gentle farewell. Wow!

Autumn Stories is truly a work of art, and I give it my highest recommendation. It is available from www.fabriziopaterlini.com, Amazon, iTunes, and CD Baby. Bravo!

Headphone Commute

Sometimes the simplest melodies awaken the most evocative of emotions… Listening to neo-classical piano compositions by Fabrizio Paterlini is like being cradled in the depths of nostalgia, holding back the eyes from tearing. It all depends on the current state of mind. And if you are already vulnerable, Paterlini will take you just a bit further. His ten piano pieces, originally recorded and left undisturbed for years, tell a story with a soundtrack to your life. Born in Manuta, Italy, Fabrizio has been playing piano since the age of 6. “When I sit in front of my piano and start playing, melodies come to find me and I immediately record them…” And it feels like some of these pieces are fragments of familiar melodies, heard in movies of your childhood, or perhaps in lullabies of your past. It is not until the second or third rotation of this album, that you realize that the beauty within, is not to be without. Pick up this disk directly from Paterlini or download a digital edition. While you’re there, don’t forget to grab his 2009 Viandanze, available as a download along with sheet music [something I've been begging other musicians to do!]. Fans of Library Tapes, Max Richter, Hauschka, Peter Broderick and Nils Frahm will absolutely enjoy! Really enjoyed this, and I'm sure you will too!