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Magnus Öström’s new album Searching for Jupiter, a beauty that lingers after Esbjörn Svensson Trio

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I have newly started to cooperate with a magnificent Italian jazz website, Jazzitalia.net, for which I wiil write mainly about my favorite music: Scandinavian jazz. One of the special things about them is that I will be able to public my pieces in both Italian and English. The first could be nothing but my review on what I consider to be one of the best jazz album of all times. So here you go, in English.

In a not so distant past there was the Esbjörn Svensson Trio (e.s.t.), a band that shot to the top and blurred the lines between jazz and rock/pop, charting a new path where the raucous and dirty elegance of the first blends seamlessly in the raw power and playfulness of the other two. A creative vision that has collected a heterogeneous sampling of fans, from purists bop lovers to post-rock followers.

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“Drops”, a poem

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One year back:
Listening to the sound of someone
Washing the dishes in Rome.
In New York

Bullet knowing its very way

But early May
Circus removers
Emptied my palms

Nothing compared
Salty shallow mud
After crystal champagne

Did you survive us?
Was righteous right?
Shouldn’t perfect slay it?

Promise-keeper Monica counts the casualties:
two

Where are you mom and dad
Sisterly brother
Secret sharer

Come claim me
I’m yours
Can be found

A poem, “Finis terrae”

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A short poem that my friend Angela Doherty revised for me (thank you Angela, you do walk your name!)

Finis Terrae – The end of the World

Jellyfish spat out by the masculine Tasman sea
curled bent
dead thus innocent
turquoise

Beach-fleas bite your harmless transparence
they shall also soil soon

At the end of the world
liquid kisses solid, slaps it
Everything happens far from here
the world rotates around itself
Born
dead
born

At the end of the world
decomposed turquoise jelly becomes water air soil
again
inoffensive ignorant
World is reborn
Earth begins, day starts:
incipit terra, incipit dies.

Translation of Monica Viola’s poem “Cold”

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This is my translation of a poem written by Monica Viola, that I like very much…

Cold
By Monica Viola

The cold the jump the embrace
the cold the jump the embrace and the fatigue
of leaving.
Naked because born;
born because
born.
Born I swim
new, every day,
because I must.
Empty I must leave.
Will you receive me in your embrace
when mine ends
melt in a splash without echo and
without love?
Your mercy: freezing me in that instant
where I remain hanging in my flight;
I reject my beauty
all that’s amiss
all that’s been taken
I reject being empty.
I am not content, so I
fly
away
naked
empty.

Midsommar

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Sono affezionatissima a questo racconto, di cui ho prima scritto una stesura in italiano e svedese, e poi una versione tutta in italiano. Lo spunto parte da una mia esperienza di quando abitavo a Stoccolma, nei primi anni novanta. Vorrei girarci un corto, ho milioni di idee e nessun soldo per realizzarle, al momento…
È un racconto fortunato ed è stato pubblicato molto in rete, ma la prima uscita è stata per INCIQUID. Per ragioni di impaginazione non posso postarlo, scaricatelo qui, grazie!

För de som talar både italienska och svenska, finns det en version på bägge språk här, men det också finns en "hel svensk" variant här (läs om det här), var så goda!