Federico Pellegrini concert

"21 March 2022, death of my father, Vincenzo Pellegrini, born in Trentino, Emilia Romagna, Italia (1936-2022)

As if to mourn or something, I don't give it much thought. I spend all my evenings playing the songs he used to whistle all day, old Italian songs. I deciphered the chords, dissected the lyrics, learnt the whole thing by heart, accumulated the songs day after day, adding more personal ones that he didn't whistle, but I did. Every evening, when I pick up my guitar, I don't even need to check the lyrics or chords, I have them, in my own way, I play them, in any order, as they come to me, I finish one, a new one comes to mind, I play it, and the hour flies.

One evening, a few months ago, a friend asked me to do a little recital for a few people. At first I'm not sure, wondering if it's too personal, too intimate. At the same time, most of them are standards, standards from another time for many, but universal if told, explained and translated. So I say yes. I realise that it does me good. I do it again, in a club, then for a garden party. And off I went. Like a therapy, I close my eyes and sing, and it feels good, I'm finally in my own garden, almost for the first time, like a culmination, as if I'd sung all my life to get to this point.

In the light of these three very different experiences, I decided on a starting set-up that would evolve, like the whole thing. For the time being, my HF headset is back in service, and the same goes for the guitar, which I'm making wireless. And now I'm ready to play anywhere, as long as the HF receiver finds me, sitting here, standing there. I move the stage as I go, people turn around, or not, some wonder where it's coming from, others know. I try to feel at home everywhere, to rediscover the atmosphere I have at home, for myself and for the stars, detached. I don't think about anything any more, I just unwind.