Italian (just like Italy itself) is an invention. Something entirely made up. By some guy who at some point in his life must have gone down some Rabbit hole, for he pictured the country upside down.

In his treaty on the Italian vulgar - which he wrote in Latin, or grammatica, for it was the only written code (gramma) that everybody understood - Dante describes Italy as divided in a right and left side by the Apennines - comparing the mountain chain to the edge of a rooftop splitting the linguistic waters into two flows.

Only, he lists Rome, Genua and the Tyrrhenian sea on the right side of such rooftop (!?!), together with what he calls Apulia

(which at his time was not my breathtakingly beautiful region, that of Bari, but nowadays' Calabria - and vice versa: the names of the tip and heel of the boot were way more recently swapped),

while placing Venice and the Adriatic sea and coast at his left. What?

Sì, and I cannot even begin, here, to speculate on the political, social, economic, emotional implications of such capsizal or, better, of the capsizal that was operated later, in the visual narration of the world rendered by the deliberate orientations of geographic maps.

Just so you know, Dante saw the North pole and heard the Saxon linguistic groups (those who, in his words, affirm by saying "iò") behind himself;

and stood facing the Sun of the South.

Four were to Dante the human linguistic kinds: those of the iò, those of the oïl, those of the oc, those of the sì.

And if the languages were named after their way to affirm, it must be because us humans are not defined by our name or past, but by what we choose - by what we say "YES" to.

During his long exile from Florence, Dante traveled across Italy incessantly and came in touch with the greatest deal of Italic people, counting fourteen different major matrixes of the Italian vulgar - the speech of the vulgus, of the common people -

and all fourteen he takes time, in such treaty, to mock, shamelessly and fastidiously, in its poorest aspect, in sound and in writing (and NOT in favour of his Tuscan mother language, as one may think) to the avail of making Poetry.

Then he also mentiones how he could clearly distinguish different speeches amongst the people from the very same and quite small city - like the bolognesi from via San Felice and those of Strada Maggiore.

In conclusion, he makes the safe assumption that, at this time, the actual Italian speeches were about A THOUSAND, possibly more.

AND NONE OF THEM THE MAN LIKED:

IS THERE A PROBLEM?

All of them smelled too local to him; he declares himself on the hunt of "a panther who leaves her scent everywhere, but is no where to be seen" (and that is still true nowadays, in the real, modern Italian acoustic life).

So he had to find one, make one - trobar, trobar, trobar - and did so by picking the best traits of those speeches he heard around himself.

Such pursued panther he calls "illustrious", for "if hit by the light, it shines".
On the smell and feral reverberation of Dante's shiny feline, source of the most high quality legato, western Music was conceived, born and fixed.

And, most importantly, easily noted.

No one ever owned the panther, no one ever will; but we can ALL, equally, Italians or not, learn how to hunt it, smell it, make it -

till we find ourselves living in the same acoustic country and finally get to understand each other beyond the meaning of words.
 

Parlare italiano is useless;

cantare italiano is indispensable.

And if you never really learn how to, you may never know what crucial point you've been missing your whole life.

Now, dear Popolo di Pechino,

are you ready for this panther smelling and hunting down this 2023 Rabbit Year hole?

And did you get to find the key to my riddle? Here it is again:

Mi s’apre una finestra,

Ne chiamano “Maestra!”

E non v’è giorno santo

Ch’ io non dedichi al Canto

Né è l' «E chiusa, O aperta»
A far di me l’esperta:

Quello che m’assicura

Sta in ogni partitura.

Seguite il mio consiglio:

Quest’anno del coniglio

Effonderà ogni bene,

Se lo passiamo *******.

The missing word, ******* (number of * is accurate) is not only the key to the final rhyme, but also, to me, a key to unlock this entire year's riddles.

It signifies the way I want to spend it, because it's either this way or what I do is nonsense.

If you think you have the key, click on the button below and use it as a discount coupon on whatever plan you'll find there and want to make for yourself.

The website is not the only way to go, just reply to this email if you need more information (I love when you do that, in general).

Al buio non si trova, ma per fortuna è una notte di luna, so

Happy New Lunar Year, everyone.

La Maestra

“extremely good at this” (Graham Vick)

"a fantastic coach, extremely helpful for young singers as well as experienced ones" (Barbara Hannigan)

“bringing the language, the music and the characters to life” (Paul Nilon)

“the foundation of a role” (Jennifer Rowley)

“magic conjunction of vocal technique, musical interpretation and building of the character: a radical rethink of the act of singing” (Anna Piroli)

“her incredible breadth of knowledge makes me feel entirely prepared” (Heather Lowe)

“magic effect on the voice and our art form” (Jessica Harper)

“opened up my voice, and a world” (Giulia Zaniboni)

“180° turn in my work with the singers” (Theophilos Lambrianidis)

"like four professionals in one" (Yiselle Blum)

“invaluable: she’ll make a role really succeed on stage” (Ariadne Greif)

“potentially life-changing” (Amy Payne)

“brings life to operatic drama” (Maria Sanner)

“enlightening, professionally and humanly” (Clara La Licata)

“thoroughly prepared and professional” (Marie Kuijken)

“truly unique method and insights” (Jasmine Law)

“a lingual and linguistic genius” (Peter Tantsits)

“entirely devoted to the art of Opera singing” (Ida Falk Winland)

“incredibly informed, consistent, knowledgeable” (Michael Corvino)

“carrying the torch of finest Italian Opera” (Nathaniel Kondrat)

“a crucial basis for all the singers” (David Cowan)

“a cure and a respect of the Music and the words’ musicality that can be learnt so deeply nowhere else in the world” (Matilde Bianchi)