Scene number 1: The news
It's almost 4pm on Tuesday 31 December 2024. Preparations for the New Year's Eve party are underway when I hear the sound of a notification coming from my mobile phone. From the preview I notice that it is an email sent by a press office. I look at the preview: it doesn't seem to be a greeting message. It begins like this: “It is with great sorrow that family, friends and collaborators communicate the premature death of Paolo Benvegnù”. A shock. I remain immobilized for a few minutes, then the first reaction, instinctively, is to forward the news to friends who have shared something about Paolo with me over time: a concert, a chat about him, listening to one of his songs .
I'm met with dismay, disbelief, sadness, anger, the exact same feelings I'm experiencing too. I nervously search the web for confirmation of the news. I'm not clear, I hope it's a fake. Instead I find the launch of the news by some newspapers, the Corriere della Sera is among the first, a generalist newspaper, which headlines, more or less: “The singer-songwriter Paolo Benvegnù suddenly leaves us. He was 59 years old.”
Scene number 2: The memory
Half an hour passes, messages between friends, I could start looking for one of the many photos taken with him, I have several that have accumulated over time. We met maybe every four or five years, on the occasion of one of his shows. He spotted me, came towards me, greeted me by name, every time to my great surprise: why on earth – I asked myself – would he remember me, with all the people he meets every day? We hugged each other tightly for several seconds. For me every time it was like embracing that older brother I never had. I don't remember under what circumstances we met, almost certainly in the second half of the nineties, during the Schism. When a Lennon, a Lanegan, a Cornell dies, the pain is enormous, but when you lose such a great artist, who you knew personally, it is even more devastating. I think back to the times I saw him play live. In particular, three completely different ones come to mind. At the Circolo degli Artisti in Rome, September 2010, the tour that followed the publication of the live “Dissolution”, when he had just two albums and a few EPs under his belt as a soloist. A vibrant, very “rock” show, closed by a desecrating cover of “Alejandro”, Lady Gaga's hit, proposed to mock the plasticity of certain mainstream pop.
Another time I remember him performing acoustically in Latina, Sottoscala Nove, an intimate, outdoor show, it was summer, at the end he stopped to chat amiably with everyone, with his elegant and courteous ways. And I remember it just before the pandemic, 2018, in Cori, inside a not deconsecrated church, filling a sacred place with beauty. At the end of the set he came back to tell me about the difficulty of living from one's art, and the happiness of being able to live – despite all the difficulties – from one's art. He was a gentleman: he never reproached me for having recorded with my band at the time (thanks Marco for involving us) the slightly too disrespectful cover of an old Scisma piece for a tribute album. Or perhaps he had appreciated the courage and personality with which we were not ashamed to face the situation? Now I'll never be able to find out again. In the end, while I was thinking all this, I didn't look for the photo anymore. I opted for a very simple post on Facebook, with the words: “Hi Paolo, I loved you so much”. A post on social media in these cases is a necessary tribute if you deeply loved the character.
Scene number 3: Recognition
On the social network most used by my generation, within a few hours there was only Paolo, an all-encompassing presence, one that unfortunately he could never even dream of in life. Fans, many simple occasional listeners, but what strikes me are the touching and heartfelt interventions of many workers, confirming how much Benvegnù was appreciated in the music circuit, not only as a singer, musician and composer, but also as a person, for the indisputable character qualities. Try asking a Cristiano Godano, a Cesare Basile, an Umberto Palazzo, a Roberto Dell'Era, all more or less the same age, which colleagues they respect and appreciate the most. Rest assured that Paul would be quoted by everyone, often first. With Schism in the 1990s he gained a certain visibility, a group which however remained in the second line compared to the giants of the golden years of Italian alternative music. His solo career was characterized by one beautiful album after another and, although after “Piccoli fragilissimi film” his was indicated as one of the live shows not to be missed, the success, the real one, the one that goes beyond the niche, the one that goes beyond the mere subsistence regime, it never arrived. Despite the quality of his music, despite a sensitivity well above average, despite being a never banal person, a poet of our times. And kind, yes, kind: this is the adjective that I have most often read about him in recent times.
2024 was the year in which, finally, after having collected eight nominations, one of his albums, “E'aiuto parlar d'amore”, was awarded the Targa Tenco as “Best Album” of the year: it was about time . And he also won a precious second place in the “Best Song” category thanks to “L'oceano”, a duet with Dario Brunori. Paolo is thus recognized as a leading figure on the Italian songwriting scene. Also in 2024, to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of one of his most acclaimed albums, “Piccoli fragilissimi film”, a new version was published, called “Reloaded”, in which a long list of important colleagues collaborated to give life to a collective project, shared with the author, a tribute to an artist who has been a source of inspiration and guiding light for many of them for years, finally an absolute reference for Italian songwriting.
Scene number 4: Small, very fragile films
All eleven songs of “Piccoli fragilissimi film” have been entirely re-recorded, and in some cases rearranged. I wouldn't dare say that the new versions surpass the originals, to which we are all strongly attached, but some contributions are certainly worthy of note, even if it is difficult not to do an excellent job when the source material is of such quality. The opening entrusted to “The vertical sea”, one of the most beautiful songs ever composed by Paolo, is left speechless, ennobled by the presence of Paolo Fresu and Ermal Meta. The re-working work carried out on “Cerchi nell'acqua” is equally good, which becomes a duet with Tosca, as is the lashing guitar rock of Fast Animals And Slow Kids, perfectly at ease on “Suggestionabili”, and the presence of Motta in a version with psychedelic connotations of “Brucio”, extended by a further two minutes. The list of featuring also includes Malika Ayane, Giovanni Truppi, Piero Pelù, La Representative di Lista, Appino, Dente and Lamante.
In addition to the vinyl edition, a limited edition autographed celebratory boxset has also been designed for “Piccoli fragilissimi film – Reloaded”. The boxset contains a double LP, four 30×30 plates with unpublished photographs and poems, a cassette containing previously unpublished songs, two collectible pins. On Spotify, four bonus tracks have been added to the basic tracklist: the instrumental version of “Catherine”, plus three further tracks shared with Giulio Casale, Irene Grandi and Max Collini.
Scene number 5: Love each other now
I wasn't there at the Monk in Rome to see him play last November 23rd: there would soon be other opportunities – I thought – to greet the Maestro. We were also planning an interview for OndaRock, I knew how much he cared about it, given that the one in the archive now dates back to 2011. It will no longer be possible to carry it out, and it really hurts me. Can I give you some final advice? Go to see more concerts, and in the end – whenever you can – stop to greet the artists, try to spend time with them, with the people who make you feel good, exchange opinions, shake their hands, thank them, hug them, yes , hug them a lot.
Think about it for a moment: you ideally spend more time with some of your favorite musicians than many of your best friends. Artists don't know this, but you do. In their songs you often find advice, and they know how to express your emotions in a way, well, in a way that you would never be able to. It's a magic, a wonder, which unfortunately, sometimes, is interrupted. Even if the music of our favorite artists will remain, forever.
02/01/2025
Antonio Santini for SANREMO.FM
