Sometimes the shortest distance between two people is a song. When languages, cultures, beliefs, and geography keep us separated from each other, music washes in, bypassing barriers, allowing us to find connections that surprise us and make our lives richer.
Blogger and accomplished amateur pianist Dakota Gale has contributed a guest post to No Dead Guys in the past, and when he told me about meeting up with pianist (and one of my featured interviews) Emanuele Arciuli while traveling through Italy, I marveled again at the power music has to bring people together. And then I asked Dakota if he might like to share his story of meeting Emanuele on No Dead Guys. I’m grateful that he said yes. His story is a reminder that connections exist, beauty transcends culture, and in the language of music we find community.
When in Bari: a guest post by Dakota Gale
Sitting in a stylish living room surrounded by colorful Native American art, books, two grand pianos, and piles of sheet music, I marveled at how cool (and random!) life can be sometimes.
My host, Emanuele, served up tea and cookies as we chatted amiably like it was any old Sunday afternoon.
Hardly. I was in Italy overlooking a hopping beach scene on the Adriatic Sea and our conversation was in Italian.
How did I end up in a room like this? Why, by learning piano and a foreign language, of course!
It's a wayward tale of a connection across the globe, with an introduction by No Dead Guys.
A few years ago, I read a great No Dead Guys post by Rhonda and emailed her to express my admiration for the project. We wound up chatting about piano, her as a professional and me as an amateur enthusiast. I even wrote about the experience: How Ludovico Sparked My Love for the Piano.
We've stayed in touch since then, catching up on a phone call here or there. I often discover new composers via her posts, including recent favorites Kym Alexandra Dillon from Australia and Garreth Brooke from Germany.
Another of those is Connor Chee, a Navajo pianist who has arranged his people's traditional songs for piano. Perhaps due to growing up around my dad's love of Native American history, the music resonated strongly for me. I went so far as to buy Chee's sheet music and learn some pieces.
At some point, I read a No Dead Guys interview featuring an Italian pianist, Emanuele Arciuli. I'm an Italian-American dual citizen via my great-grandfather, so I was intrigued.
Fascinating... Emanuele is Italian, but interested in Native American art and music? He plays Connor Chee's music?! Who is this guy?
I dug into Emanuele's discography, read his bio, and learned more. Dozens of trips to the U.S., collaborations with many contemporary composers, while also teaching at a conservatory. Esteemed music critic and historian Joseph Horowitz wrote, “Though not an American, Emanuele Arciuli commands the biggest, most varied American repertoire of any pianist I know, probably of any pianist ever known.”
I saw that he lives in Bari, the capital of Puglia, which I happened to be visiting as part of a trip to Italy with my mom to visit the old hill towns of our ancestors.
On a whim, I emailed Emanuele about a meetup. He sent a friendly response, but in no way did I actually expect to meet him. Life's vagaries, ya know?
Except now, two months later, I found myself sitting in his living room drinking tea and munching on cookies while stretching my brain in Italian, a language I'd enjoyed studying the past five years.
Emanuele told me about visiting the U.S. over 60 times, performances and modern art, and how he especially loved Santa Fe. Now, the visas to go perform music had skyrocketed in cost to thousands of dollars. He wasn't sure when he'd be back next.
Walking into the piano room, he showed me his Kawai and Steinway grands, plus a modern piece he was working on for an upcoming orchestra engagement. Dozens of pages long, a jumble of notes and complicated rhythms, time signature changes scattered throughout. It would take me the rest of my life to play it very, very badly.
"Would you like to play?" Uhhhh... I'd been traveling for a month and now I just sit down and play cold in front of a professional pianist and conservatory instructor? Cue thumping heart rate.
What the hell, when in Rome Bari.
On the Kawai, I played the first section of Chopin's Op. 69 No. 1 waltz. Decent (for an amateur hack).
"Try the Steinway!"
I switched pianos and tooled around a bit, then launched into a modern piece...but he stopped me. "Is that from Amélie?" Why, yes...
"It's my wife's favorite piece, but I've never learned it. She just lost her mother and I'd love to send her a recording."
My hands instantly started to sweat. He started recording; I bumbled the second line on the Steinway's heavy keys. sigh
Ancora una volta! My second go was far better and he sent the video off to his wife, who expressed gracious enthusiasm at this random American's performance.
A fitting coda to my time with Emanuele. This simple, perfect travel moment spanning oceans and borders, all sparked by the language of music.
When he isn't studying piano or languages, Dakota enjoys writing about intentional living and reclaiming creativity as an adult in his newsletter, Traipsing About. He and his wife are currently traveling full-time around North America in an Airstream trailer.
Both photos courtesy of Dakota Gale