“One of the main contemporary Italian musicians”, “a lyrical constructivist”, “a thoughtful musician”, “a free thinker like no other”; Cardini “is a synonymous for openness”, being “a musician, a composer, a pianist, a performer and a poet”: such are the press clippings about him. Unaware of this all, I got acquainted with the music by Giancarlo Cardini in 2016, when I was requested to premiere his Tre momenti di sessualità infantile. At first, I was amused by the title, at least unusual, if not provocative; then, I was immediately enthralled by an enchanted aural world, with its delicately iridescent colours. In this music, space opened up, time was dilated, and the resonances traced the path. I wanted more of this music, and I began inserting in my repertoire one piece after another, up to the realization of two recitals entirely focusing on his works, which I first performed in the season of the Salotto Musicale del Friuli-Venezia Giulia. Getting to know Cardini and working with him mirrors the relationship with his music: on the one hand, there is an uncommonly sharp thought (which is not fearsome of those stances which are uncomfortable but mindful), and a benevolent curiosity for life, together with the tendency to include rather than to exclude. On the other hand, there are many silent gestures, expressing an intensely poetic and contemplative sensitivity, which is frequently joyful. While I was imagining the details of the recording, I had the luck of coming across an 1890 Steinway B, masterfully restored, which had a generous voice, overflowing with harmonics: this was the ideal fellow for giving the right width of resonance to this music.
Agnese Toniutti
Giancarlo Cardini: Lento Trascolorare, Piano Music
