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Piping
hot sounds
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We
go to Molise for an unusual music festival and discover
not everyone wants to pipe in the new and that real
men know their reeds
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The
road to Scapoli is long and winding. It follows
the Trigno river through the Molise region, passing Isernia and Venafro before you arrive at destination. At every twist and turn of the road we
come across someone playing music: zampognas (the traditional reed pipes), barrel organs, tambourines and ciaramellas
(double-reed oboe). Inside the old shops locally
made pipes hang on the wall beside their manufacturers'
brochures, souvenirs and old well-played instruments.
The streets are a-buzz with musicians, would-be
musicians, and the plain curious all anxious to
try out one of the famed pipes. We watch them as
they lift the pipes to their lips, their faces turning
purple in the effort. Music not yet in the making.
You've guessed, we're at the 2001 edition of the
Zampogna Festival. In the evening musicians from all over Europe regale
the audience with their piping abilities: zampognas,
Surdulinas, Bagpipes, Uilleann pipes, Pivas, Baghèts and Gaitas, they're all here.
Loyalties at the bar are not divided between left
and right-wing political factions, nor rival football
teams but rather advocates of traditional reed pipes
as opposed to the new generation of hi-tech plastic
pipes. Real reeds versus the GM variety.
Castelnuovo al Volturno, just three kms down
the road, is said to be the innovators' den whereas
stalwarts of the traditional pipes Have their headquarters
in Scapoli itself. The competition between the two
camps is electric throughout the festival.
When night falls we head for the food stalls
selling local specialities. And with a bottle of
red wine costing LIT 3,000, home-made bread
1,000, spicy sausages 3,000 and sheep's
cheese 3,000 we've certainly made the right
decision.
After dinner I drop in on Enzo Miniscalco,
one of the pipe makers who isn't afraid of using
modern materials along with the more traditional.
Then it's off to the hear I Musetta from
Piacenza playing at the evening concert. I go backstage
after the concert to congratulate them. And over
a bottle they tell a little about themselves. "You
know — says Bani the piper - Attilio and
myself (on accordion), we've never really practised
together. We used to play sessions together in the
pub until the early hours of the morning. There's
not much need to practise after that."
We round off the evening listening to Paddy Keenan
on the Uilleann pipes. The Irishman, who started playing the pipes when he was just six, has
seven generations of pipers in his family and is
one of the greatest contemporary pipers around.
The next day we wake up in pipers' heaven. All the
pipers of the area and nearby Campania and Basilicata
have gathered to play. We ask two local pipers if
we can join, and off we go with out barrel organs
marching through the streets of Scapoli. Onlookers
lap and children squeal in glee. Pino Salamone
from Terranova del Pollino, the renowned piper and pipe maker, joins
in. There's no time to exchange pleasantries, there's
tunes to be played and music to be made.
In the evening another great concert awaits us.
Riccardo Tesi directs a 12-piece band made
up of all possible instruments and colours. New
melodies mix with old favourites and stirring orchestra
pieces follow haunting solos. At the end everyone
is on their feet to applaud the world premier of
these wonderful musicians.
As daylight approaches the party draws to a close.
Some struggle towards their beds, others set off
on their journey home while a few play the last
few notes with the dawn chorus. We make our way
back to our tents sure in the knowledge that we'll
here again next year for the last weekend of July.
Who knows, you may come too . . .
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| by
FABIO
BONVICINI |
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August
2001
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