Tag: Bari

Returning to Bari after a year of nomadism on the road 

After a spontaneous whirlwind of a year that saw me spending extended periods in Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia and traversing pretty much the entirety of India, I find myself back in Bari.  Specifically, the colourful quartiere of Madonnella, where I’ve called home for the past four years, after moving there as a sort-of life experiment from South London, towards the tail end of 2019.

Madonnella hugs Bari’s Lungomare (“seafront” – it’s the longest in Italy) and is a neighbourhood where you find an abundance of nonnas (both of the friendly and rather stern variety), clan foot soldiers, young working professionals and more recently, AirBnB guests all going about their lives simultaneously, yet also minding their own business.  

A snapshot of Bari life; late-summer 2023.

It’s also incredibly multicultural and on my tiny street – as well as a stray Englishman with distant Khasi (on his father’s side) and Mancunian roots (his mother’s side) – there are Chinese, Indians, Mauritians, as well as Italians.  One of my most memorable Madonnella experiences was one Sunday afternoon a few years ago, when the immigration police paid a visit to the street and decided to check that a few families’ paperwork was in order.  A number of the nonnas suddenly appeared on their balconies and leapt to their defence, shouting down to the police and telling them to leave them alone and move onto more important matters.  Over time, I’ve developed a real affection for daily life here and all of its idiosyncrasies. 

I was only meant to leave for one month.  I took off for Vietnam in mid-August last year, with the intention of returning in September but quickly became captivated by its culture, its food and the heady combination of hectic cities, tranquil rice paddy-dotted countryside and stunning bays and coastal vistas.  I fast-developed a taste for life on the road and the endless new experiences it offered, found that I was still able to do freelance work as an arts PR consultant remotely from the other side of the world, and one month turned into three, then six and eventually became an entire year.  

After Vietnam, I ventured into Cambodia, Thailand and Laos.  I still have a huge Khasi family on my grandmother’s side in Shillong in Meghalaya, North-East India (they are actually closer to parts of Myanmar, Thailand and Laos than some of ‘mainland’ India) and soon various cousins were suggesting that I tried to fit in a visit too. I arrived in late-October, was very generously offered the use of her vacant home by an Aunty who spends half of the year in the South of the country, and for the next three months set up in base in Shillong and went about my daily life there, almost as a quasi-local.  

1.) Sitting down for a bowl of local steamed clams, Huế, Vietnam. 2.) Mullick Ghat Flower Market, Kolkata. 3.) Paradise beaches and the best seafood curry, Mahabalipuram, Tamil Nadu. 4.) Exploring Bangkok’s canals. 5.) The Manila cityscape, the Philippines. 6.) Browsing for shadow puppets, Jalan Surabaya, Jakarta.

I was kindly looked after and made to feel welcome by my Indian family, became very well-acquainted with the Evening Club (an excellent live music venue run by Jeff Laloo, and in my opinion, one of the best grassroots platforms in all of India), started zipping around the lanes of Shillong and the surrounding areas, mainly using the Rapido scooter taxi service or the black-but-yellow-roofed Maruti 800 local cabs as my means of transport, attended two Khasi weddings and three funerals, and was able to do some digging into family history, in particular finding out that my grandmother’s father was in fact raised in India and not in Ireland, as we had been led to believe all of these years. 

The streets of Shillong, Meghalaya, including Police Bazar, its main shopping area. The Shillong side of the family (most people in this photo are descended from either my grandmother’s sisters or brothers).

I continued to use Shillong a base for the next few months as I explored as much of the rest of India as possible, from Puri to Amritsar, Rishikesh to Pondicherry, Jodphur to Mysore and Madurai to Delhi (and naturally, everywhere in-between).  I crammed in a lot during my time, had some of the most amazing experiences and delicious food and was even able to fit in a two-month sojourn to Thailand, the Philippines, Indonesia and Malaysia, whilst I waited for my Indian visa to renew.  

The trip wasn’t without its challenges though. A mysterious malaria-like illness gripped me late-last year, lingered for several months, caused me to lose my appetite and saw me lose two stone; I mislaid a debit card and had the other one cancelled by my bank’s fraud team; my first flight into Shillong from Hanoi was cancelled due to a cyclone; I suffered a sciatica flare-up in Kolkata and sustained permanent scars after coming off a scooter in Sidemen, Bali, there was an unsettling incident with a security guard in the Punjab, an argument with a rogue taxi driver in Varanasi that led to him dumping me and all of my luggage out of his car in the middle of the road, nearly causing me to miss my train and laughably, my suitcase was lost by the airline on the final homeward leg of my journey to Mangalore (luckily it was returned one day later).   

In the words of George Harrison though, all things must pass and whilst I sense that I will regularly have to resist the temptation to just pack up and run off back to Asia or head towards Latin America in the opposite direction, Bari is home.  As I reintegrate into the rhythm of daily Pugliese life, I’m not just returning; I’m rewriting. Fresh connections, new colleagues, potential bandmates, a reappreciation of the importance of community and various burgeoning creative projects signal a phase that’s brimming with potential.  A pipe dream that’s been in the ether for a while now, may also see Madonnella becoming a more permanent semi-base for years to come.  It’s all been an equal mix of the alluring and exhausting – in many respects…

However, September and October are always months of busyness, flux and change and things will settle down in November and December and then the next chapter become clearer.

Back in July 2011, I had one of my favourite trips-ever to Lisbon in Portugal with four of my oldest friends, Chris, Matty and Scott. We were young, naïve and probably rather irritating to share a room with but had a blast and attracted new friends like flies to honey. In our hostel dorm at Travellers House in the Baixa district, a young Canadian dude in his early-20s bunked in the same room as us for a couple of nights.  On the day he checked out to continue his journey, he shook our hands and urged us to “Enjoy your crazy life adventure guys”.  He must be in his 30s by now and probably has a very sensible career and a mortgage but that phrase has always stayed with me.  Here’s to be being grateful for the past but looking towards the future.  

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards” – 

Søren Kierkegaard

Read this (in many ways the prequel to this post): https://setyourownscene.com/?p=1895

Listen to this (‘Never Lose Your Sense of Wonder’, a little-known 2005 single by Yeti, a band fronted by John Hassall, bass player of The Libertines.  An excellent Byrds-esque jangle of a tune and a mantra to live your life by): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NAso8g5rKk

Spazio13; Bari’s urban laboratory

“I always think that each floor is like walking into a different world” is Aldo Campanelli’s introduction as he begins his tour of Spazio13, a 1,500-square-metre community hub for creative and social organisations, located in an abandoned middle school in the Libertà district of Bari.  He’s not wrong, as each level turns out to be an Aladdin’s Cave of workshops, studios and co-working spaces, filled with highly-skilled creative people from Puglia.

Aldo, is the Co-Founder of Tou.Play, an experiential play-focused cooperative who occupy a number of spaces in Spazio13.  He founded Tou.Play in 2017 as a “game practice community” for children, young people and adults who want to use play and gaming as a tool for learning, boosting their wellbeing and getting to know each other, in a fun and interactive way.  

It’s a pretty inspiring concept and Tou.Play has now grown into one of the most interesting young organisations in Bari.  On one hand, they host afterschool clubs and workshops for children from low-income families but on the other hand, they create bespoke games, treasure hunts and ‘quests’ for private birthday parties and even, corporate teambuilding days.  It’s a model that’s focused around fun, collaboration and learning through playing and exploration.  Tou.Play has also teamed up with Bari’s Museo Civico for a series of events and exhibitions such as Una Notte al Museo and A Brick For Nick

The ground floor of Spazio13 is partly occupied by Tou.Play and at the time of my visit early on a Thursday evening, it’s buzzing with kids of various ages playing games and making crafts as part of the regular afterschool club.  It’s loud but the students seem well-behaved and really engaged in what they’re doing.

Photos courtesy of Tou.Play.

Tou.Play has its ‘Game Room’ on the next floor, where I’m introduced to some other members of the team, including German artist Paul and dancer Franklin who are volunteering at Spazio13 as part of a scheme run by the European Solidarity Corps and European Youth / ErasmusPlus.  There’s also a playful and inquisitive two-month old Border Collie puppy who is in the process of being house-trained (she has a few ‘accidents’ whilst I’m there).  

The room is very much Tou.Play’s nerve centre with a large gaming table dominating the space and an array of different board games, puzzles, toys and role-playing costumes dotted around it.  Aldo shows me a board game that was recently created by the team and is keen to point out that it was purely made of wood.  Even the box was wooden, rather than plastic or more disposable cardboard and one would hope that its clear craftsmanship means that it will be treasured and looked after by those who play it.  Whilst there are a couple of video game consoles in the corner of the room, it’s refreshing that so many of the games are analogue and not screen-orientated. 

Tou.Play’s games room.

Elsewhere in Spazio13, there are a number of classrooms and performance rooms for both adult and under-18 classes, a co-working space and bar area for start-up businesses and it’s on the upper levels where things start to get really interesting.  There is an entire floor that’s occupied by artists, designers and printers, including the gifted silkscreen artist Cristina Todisco.  There’s a carpentry workshop, where the blueprints of Tou.Play’s recently-created wooden board game were turned into reality.  There’s also a decent-sized 3D printing laboratory FabLab, who has recently shipped its creations to as far away as Los Angeles, and finally on the top floor, there is a plush but compact recording studio and audio production facility that’s apparently favoured by Bari’s tight-knit hip-hop community. 

Everyone who Aldo introduces me to on every floor is warm, welcoming and happy to chat to me about their work.  Whilst each part of the building has its own specific area of expertise, everyone seems to know each other and share the common goal of nurturing and encouraging creativity in the name of social enterprise.  

Elsewhere in the Spazio13 building, including its courtyard which transforms into a lively outdoor events space during the warmer months.

It’s an encouraging trait that many of Bari’s burgeoning small businesses seem to have in common.  In fact, I first heard about Tou.Play through another social enterprise HaBari Hostel, a low-cost, ethical and responsible ostello also located nearby in the Libertà neighbourhood.  HaBari was launched by three friends who were all raised in Bari and believe strongly in “travel as an educational tool”.  As well as operating like a regular boutique hostel, HaBari has partnered with a number of likeminded organisations in the area, including non-profit sustainable tourism project In Itinere, legal graffiti collective ReTake BariETNIE a cultural programme that aims to integrate Italians with foreign people living in the country, and of course, Tou.Play itself. 

I had originally reached out to HaBari a few months back with the aim of doing some volunteering work there; I thought it might be a way of getting to know some of Bari’s aspiring entrepreneurs and change-makers, as well as improving my Italian.  One of its co-founders Silvia very kindly agreed to meet me, gave me some background on the hostel (it’s located in her grandfather’s old apartment and has given his former home a new lease of life) and talked to me about its ethos and the importance of collaboration with its partner organisations.  She explained that they wanted to offer travellers more than just the usual hostel experience and that these partners could provide them with volunteering opportunities, socially responsible excursions and the chance to discover more unusual parts of the city, if guests were keen to do so. 

The distinctive interior at HaBari Hostel. Photos courtesy of habarihostel.com

The so-called “brain-drain” remains to be a major problem for the Italian South with many educated young people leaving Southern areas like Puglia, Calabria and Campania for university and better job prospects in the more affluent North or overseas.  However, many of the students I have taught in their 20s or 30s speak affectionately about Puglia and explain how, one day they plan to return to the area to settle post-university or after making their money in Milan, Rome, Turin or Bologna.  In contrast to privileged middle class Britain where families tend to disperse and it’s considered a rite-of-passage to fend for yourself in a new city in your early 20s, here one gets the impression that they’d rather not leave their hometown and that it’s merely done out of necessity.  

However, there are more positive signs when it comes to opportunities for young people in Puglia.  The number of start-up businesses setting up home in Bari appears to be growing, particularly when it comes to socially-conscious organisations and cooperatives such as Tou.Play and HaBari.  Certainly, the incubator-type environment created by Spazio13 and co-working spaces like Impact Hub can help provide a ready-made network of creatives and like-minded professionals for aspiring entrepreneurs and digital freelancers alike.  Bari was also recently named one of the “most tech cities in Italy” in terms of companies recruiting there in the technology sector and the city has long been home to established firms such as Bosch and the Peroni Brewery (now owned by Asahi Breweries). 

Inside Impact Hub Bari, Fiera del Levante.

A multi-billion Euro project to build a new high-speed rail link between Napoli and Bari is currently underway too.  Its aim is to make the South more accessible to the rest of Italy and it will halve the travel time between the two cities, as well as reducing the journey from Bari to Milan to just six hours.  This increased accessibility will undoubtedly bring more opportunities to the area and with the increase in remote working caused by the pandemic and more flexible work schedules, perhaps will help to reduce the economic and cultural schism the North and the South of Italy currently experiences.  

Love and Death (in Southern Italy)

It was during the uncertain days of the first wave of the pandemic in 2020 that I began listening frequently to the song ‘Love and Death’ by the Ghanaian highlife musician and bandleader Ebo Taylor.  I first heard it on Mary Anne Hobbs’ BBC 6 Music show and she explained that Taylor had written it as a reaction to the breakdown of his first marriage.  In the lyrics to ‘Love and Death’, Taylor compares the kiss of his former wife during their wedding ceremony to the “kiss of death”.  

Ebo Taylor – ‘Love and Death’

Musically, it’s an upbeat, yet bittersweet afrobeat number, combining wistful major seventh and minor seventh chords and a barbed lyric that preaches wisdom when it comes to matters of the heart with a buoyant-sounding horn section.  Taylor originally recorded the song in 1980 for his album ‘Conflict’ (you can hear the original here) and then reworked it after collaborating with musicians from Berlin’s Afrobeat Academy in 2010 for an album of the same name, released on Strut Records.  As ‘Love and Death’ reaches its crescendo, Taylor begins to switch between singing in English and a native Ghanaian language.  

The story of ‘Love and Death’ (courtesy of Strut Records) 

It was around a similar period that I started taking notice of two particular (and related) traditions in Southern Italy when it came to recognising new life, as well as acknowledging the people who have recently departed from the world. 

Firstly, when a new baby is born, friends and family of the newly-born child’s parents will place a large bow or ribbon on the front door of their home; blue if it’s a boy and pink for a girl (centuries-old Italian traditions are yet to become gender-fluid).  Kids are widely-celebrated in Italy and unlike in Britain, it’s completely normal to still see young children out late at night and dining with their families in restaurants or bars.  Therefore, the birth of a baby is seen as a moment of great joy and one that that should be celebrated publicly and amongst friends and family, alike.  The tradition of placing the ribbon above the door is so that the rest of the community can join in with the well-wishing too. 

Photo courtesy of Rossi Writes.

Similarly, the Italians commemorate death in a very public way.  When someone is unfortunate enough to pass away; a large white billboard-style poster announcing this news, along with the details of the funeral, will be put up somewhere prominent in their local community and sometimes even on the wall of their home, or place of work.  Some of these posters feature an image of Jesus or the Madonna, or even the face of the deceased. 

An example of these posters in the town of Turi in Puglia and a blue bow pinned to a door celebrating the arrival of a baby boy.

Although these death posters seem a little strange or even morbid to us English, the purpose of them is to show respect to the memory of the person who has passed away and to inform people of when and where they can pay their final respects.  Sadly, during Spring 2020, new posters would pop up in my neighbourhood of Madonnella with an alarming regularity and locals would often pass by, pause for a moment and offer a solemn nod of acceptance, before then continuing with their day.  It’s easy to see how the news would soon spread around the local area.

It’s safe to say that family is very important in Italy and many different generations will often live together under the one roof.  In contrast to the UK and US where most teenagers can’t wait to fly the parental nest aged 18, It’s not unusual for young Italians to remain living in their familial home well into their late-20s or early-30s and I actually have heard of some Italians who stay at home or even move back home after having their children.  If mamma and nonna are still around then perhaps it makes sense to make use of their renowned hospitality and even more famous culinary skills.  In a country where families remain close, emotions tend to be worn on the sleeve and so much of everyday life plays out publicly or in the street, it’s not really surprising that birth and death are commemorated in such a typically extrovert way. 

A Word About Playlists

Ever since my elder sister made an eight-track mix tape for me aged 4 (the featured artists included Bon Jovi, Extreme and Inner Circle), I have collected records.  As a kid, I religiously accumulated every Now That’s What I Call Music! compilation on cassette (Now 30 – Now 44 was the particular period in question) and then at age 12 I graduated to proper albums and received The Miseducation of Lauryn HillThis Is My Truth Tell Me Yours by the Manic Street Preachers and um, Performance & Cocktails by Stereophonics (it was arguably the last decent album they made, in my defence) for my birthday.

As a teenager, I used the pocket money earned from my part-time job as an after-school cleaner (my school couldn’t find ready and willing adult cleaners so they employed us students instead) to bolster my collection of CDs (I had several hundred by the time I went off to university) and around 16, I began to take an interest in vinyl; initially collecting 7” singles and then graduating to full-length albums.  I also took an interest in my Dad’s collection and would pilfer the occasional Beatles or Beach Boys album, not to mention a great blues and soul compilation featuring the likes of John Lee Hooker.  

A snapshot of just some of my favourite albums throughout the years.

For years, I listened to music through an early 1990s hi-fi system that was very generously given to me by an uncle who worked for electronics company Phillips.  He had upgraded his home system and with my interest in music had let me have his previous set-up (which would have been top of the range when it was manufactured).  It was far too loud for my teenage bedroom and the volume annoyed my parents no end, but the fact it came with its own turntable, as well as graphic equaliser and CD and cassette decks was a major coup.  It moved with me to London and took pride of place in the living room of my tiny flat on Stockwell Road and provided the soundtrack to many a late-night gathering.

After 17 years of continuous heavy use, the system finally stopped working in 2018 after my move to Brixton Hill and I decided it was time to treat myself to a new system.  After nearly a year of reading audiophile magazines and gear reviews, I took the plunge early in 2019 and made a visit to Oranges & Lemons on Webbs Road in Clapham, South London, leaving with a Rega Elex-R amplifier and a Rega P3 turntable (Monitor 500 speakers, a Marantz CD deck and a vintage Nakamichi tape player were also added soon after, if you’re interested).  

The new set-up taking pride of place in the living – either side of the fireplace.

The new set-up was the single most expensive outright purchase I have ever made (surpassing even guitars) and a present to myself to celebrate the first year of being successfully self-employed.  However, it soon proved to be an excellent investment.  Not only are the Rega units built like tanks, but I began to listen to records in an entirely new way, hearing details and nuances in the recordings that wouldn’t have been picked up before.  On nights in, instead of turning the TV on after work, I would listen to albums instead. 

As well as being so far away from family and friends, leaving my record collection behind in boxes was perhaps the second hardest thing about moving to Bari.  I still buy the occasional vinyl in Italy and there are some excellent record shops in Bari, namely electronic specialist EXPNew Records for indie / new wave / alternative Italian, and the San Pasquale second-hand emporium Wanted Records. However, it’s frustrating not being able to listen to the new purchases (my current Bari set-up is a laptop or iPhone connected to a Bose Soundlink Bluetooth speaker – it’s not quite the same). 

Records upon records, and particular bounties from Soho’s Sounds of The Universe, Sister Ray and Brixton’s Supertone Records.

During the second wave of Italian Covid restrictions in late-2020 / early 2021, I did rediscover the joys of streaming though and began obsessively curating a series of Spotify playlists based on genre and overall vibe.  What started off as a way to pass the time during lockdown soon became a labour of love and many of these have been painstakingly created (in particular, ‘Non-obvious soul’ and Eyeliner and Spraypaint FM’); not just in terms of the chosen tracks but also the running order (don’t play these on shuffle mode).  

With a 2,000-km drive ahead of me later this week, some of these playlists will be on heavy rotation, along with a number of podcasts.  Here’s a summary of some of the most interesting compilations I’ve put together and what you can expect.  I hope you find something to your taste; sit back and give your ears a treat…

Non-obvious soul

I’ve been a great lover of soul music since I was a teenager and this playlist focuses on the less obvious cuts.  Sure, there are some famous names in there but the song choices are a little more under-the-radar.  Starting off with some instrumentals from Young-Holt Unlimited and the Menahan Street Band, this collection takes you on a journey through early Northern Soul footstompers, gospel, Motown, Stax, ‘60s girl groups, disco, slick 1980s pop and then the titans of ‘90s soul such as Jil Scott and Lauryn Hill.  It ends with some more contemporary artists such as Children of Zeus, Lost Horizons and Solange.

Listen to these‘Me and Mrs Jones’ – Billy Paul, ‘Center City’ – Fat Larry’s Band, ‘No Easy Way Down’ – Dusty Springfield.

Eyeliner and Spraypaint FM

Inspired by the Manic Street Preachers, Simon Price’s Stay Beautiful clubnight and a number of other provocative, sleazy, ‘eyeliner-friendly’ bands, this is the indie disco but with an edge.  The New York Dolls, T-Rex, The Stooges and of course, the Manics all make an appearance but there are also nods to some often-forgotten noughties groups such as King Adora, Kinesis, Miss Black America and My Vitriol.  Watch out for the disco and ‘80s pop interlude midway through. 

Listen to these‘Personality Crisis’ – New York Dolls, ‘Don’t Speak My Mind’ – Miss Black America, ‘Always On My Mind’ – Pet Shop Boys. 

Summer bliss

I started compiling this playlist during what seemed like the endless Italian summer of 2020 – and the brief easing of the Covid restrictions.  The soundtrack to many a summer’s evening, there’s a lot of disco, house and upbeat funk tracks, as well as some Italian oddities like ‘L’eroe di Plastica’ by Napolitano percussionist Tony Esposito.  Put this one on as the soundtrack to a summer evening’s barbeque. 

Listen to these: ‘Sempre’ – Marcos Valle, ‘Attack’ – Walter Ego, ‘Say Something’ – Emma Jean-Thackray.

Hip-hop; an education 

Hip-hop is not a genre I can claim to having an encyclopaedic knowledge of.  I appreciate its artistry and the impact it’s had on modern culture but it’s probably the genre I have the least records of in my collection.  However, reading XL Recordings founder Richard Russell’s book ‘Liberation Through Hearing’ and the BBC’s documentary series ‘Hip hop: The song’s that shook America’, opened a new world to me and I started to listen to a lot of hip hop from the 1980s and early ‘90s.  This playlist attempts to provide a chronological musical history of the genre over five hours, starting with The Fatback Band’s ‘King Tim III’ (mooted by many as the first-ever hip hop track) and finishing with a crop of current artists including Berwyn, Madlib and Slum Village.

Listen to these‘P.S.K’ – Schooly D, ‘Unity’ – Queen Latifah, ‘Brixton Baby’ – Ty featuring Mpho.

The Italian Songbook

This playlist was created, mainly with the goal of helping to improve my Italian.  It features a collection of classic Italian songs, alternative recommendations from Italian friends and some tracks I’ve found through my own research.  Italian music icons such as Lucio Battisti, Fabrizo De Andre and Domenico Modugno are included but also young upstarts such as Venerus and Takagi & Ketra.

Listen to these: ‘Il Mio Canto Libero’ – Lucio Battisti, ‘Senza Luce (A Whiter Shade of Pale)’ – Dik Dik, ‘Da Sola / In the Night’ – Takagi & Ketra.

Reggae, dub and rocksteady 

After nearly ten years of living in Brixton, it’s hard for reggae music not to rub off on you in some way.  I’ve always had soft spot for the genre but exploring the area’s specialist record shops became a favourite weekend activity of mine – in particular Supertone Records on Acre Lane and Lion Vibes in Brixton Village.  This playlist has developed and been added to over a couple of years and takes in classic reggae, earlier rocksteady, as well as some heavier dub moments.  There’s an ace Discogs article on Brixton’s Supertone Records here.

Listen to these: Born for a Purpose’ – Dr. Alimantado, ‘Gimme Gimme Your Love’ – Don Carlos, ‘Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner’ – Black Uhuru.

Off-kilter folk(isms)

A playlist of wistful alternative folk, alt-country, Americana and psychedelia.  Expect Crosby, Stills & Nash, Fairport Convention, Love, The Flying Burrito Brothers and some more tender moments from Shirley Collins and Jackie Leven.

Listen to these: ‘Whispering Pines’ – The Band, ‘Will To Love’ – Neil Young, ‘Hares On The Mountain’ – Shirley Collins & Davy Graham. 

Early rock & roll

Partly inspired by my trips to Tennessee over the past few years, this playlist showcases a selection of the earliest rock & roll from the late mid-1950s until the early-60s.  Bo Diddley, Billy Hawks, Carl Perkins, Gene Vincent and Link Wray all feature, as well as some of the more raucous blues tracks of the era.

Listen to these‘Fujiyama Mama’ – Wanda Jackson, ‘Have Love Will Travel’ – Richard Berry, ‘Get Down With It’ – Little Richard. 

Uplifting Melancholia

A collection of beautiful-sounding tracks that somehow make the listener feel happy and sad simultaneously.  I spent a lot of last year’s road trip to Sicily listening to this playlist.  Contains not one but two versions of ‘Strange Overtones’; David Byrne and Brian Eno’s original and an Americana-style cover by Chicago group Whitney.

Listen to these: ‘Love and Death’ – Ebo Taylor, ‘Do You Wanna Dance?’ – The Mamas and The Papas, Til I Die’ – The Beach Boys (alternate mix). 

Spiritual // gospel // joy 

Finally, this one is still a work-in-progress but focuses on music which is vaguely spiritual or uplifting; be it gospel or purely existential in its nature.  Features the 1971 gospel-disco epic ‘Like A Ship’ and the Beach Boys’ hymn ‘Our Prayer’

Listen to these: ‘Keep Your Faith To The Sky’ – Willie Scott & The Birmingham Spirituals, ‘Spiritual Eternal’ – Alice Coltrane, ‘Like A Ship’ – Pastor T.L. Barrett & The Youth for Christ Choir. 

Ricotta forte; the strongest cheese on earth?

One of the joys of living in Italy – even during the periods of lockdown – has been discovering local ingredients that are specific to particular regions.  Edible weeds such as cicoriacima di rapa and puntarelle in Puglia and the Salento; ‘ndujasoppressata and Tropea onions in Calabria and the crispy red peperoni cruschi of the Basilicata region, to name just a few.

A few weeks ago, I popped my head into my local casa vinicola, Vecchio Feudo on Corso Sidney Sonnino in Bari to pick up some essentials (well, olives, taralli and white wine), when a product I hadn’t seen before caught my eye as I was paying at the counter.  A small glass jar in the chiller filled with a white paste was labelled ‘Ricotta forte’ (‘strong ricotta’).  My interest was piqued and at €2.50 it was cheap enough to take a punt on. 

A typical jar of Pugliese ricotta forte and Vecchio Feudo on Corso Sidney Sonnino in Madonnella, Bari.

I took the jar back to my flat, unscrewed the lid and a smell unlike anything else I can remember immediately hit me.  It was pungent to say the least and made gorgonzola seem like Dairylea in comparison.  I tentatively scraped a tiny amount onto a cracker and the sheer strength and bitterness of this spreadable cheese took the roof off my mouth.  What on earth had I bought? 

After some research, I found out that ricotta forte is a Pugliese speciality which is also popular in the neighbouring region of Basilicata.  Its origins date back nearly one thousand years to when local shepherds would create their own unique version of the soft cheese ricotta (used in a variety of Italian sweet and savoury dishes) by placing it into wooden, glass or ceramic containers, adding salt and then storing in a dark, damp place to encourage the growth of mould.  Traditionally covered with fig leaves, the cheese would be opened and stirred every week but overall, the fermentation process would take around three months.  The fungus that grew gave the cheese its distinctive spicy flavour and one of the reasons the shepherds preferred this potent variety of ricotta was the fact it would keep for so long (it is said that ricotta forte never really ‘goes off’). 

Ricotta forte being produced in the traditional way and served on crostini with anchovies.

The cheese soon became a local speciality and Pugliese families would often make it at home, placing the jars under the kitchen sink or in cool cantine (cellars) to ferment.  It is often eaten served on crackers or crostini with anchovies or tomatoes or with sweeter ingredients such as grapes or drizzled honey.  Even though I’m a big fan of strong blue cheeses, spreading ricotta forte on crostini is not for the faint-hearted.  I actually found that stirring a teaspoon (yes, a teaspoon is all you need) into a pasta dish or a tomato sauce works better and adds a spiciness and piquant flavour.  I also used a little in a mousse and served this with roasted fennel – the recipe courtesy of A Taste For Travel can be found here.

A Taste for Travel’s recipe for Fennel au gratin with ricotta forte mousse.

Ricotta forte has been recognised by the Ministry of Agricultural, Food and Forestry Policies as a typical food of Puglia and Basilicata and has been awarded PAT (prodotto agroalimentare tradizionale) status.  Incredibly, the Campania region alone has 515 of these.  The Slow Food organisation has also sung the cheese’s praises and in particular its time-honoured production method and long shelf life.  In line with the current craze for fermented food such as kimchi and sauerkraut, ricotta forte is also said to have numerous health properties including aiding digestion, boosting gut bacteria and even killing off worms.  Good to know.

One jar of ricotta forte is likely to last you the best part of a year (you could even consider it an investment, of sorts) and it really does have a taste unlike any other cheese.  You could do worse than picking up a jar of the stuff when you next visit Italy or a well-stocked Italian deli in the UK. You never know, it migheven come in handy if you are planning on organising a stag do or a sports team initiation ritual in the near future too.

You can find a video showing the traditional production process of ricotta forte courtesy of Maria Rosa Pinto below:

There is also an English-speaking ricotta forte taste test here.

Just another day in Madonnella

My street in Madonnella, Bari.

In Bari, I live in the Madonnella district of the city.  It’s a fairly traditional part of town that hugs the Adriatic coast to the north-east and is a 10-minute walk from both Bari Vecchia (the medieval Old Town containing the Basilica di San Nicola, Piazza del Ferrarese and Piazza Mercantile) and Murat, the more modern city centre and main shopping area – where I work.  It also shares a border with the grittier Japigia neighbourhood to the south-east and San Pasquale to the south-west, over the railway line that intersects the city.  Indeed, the original site of the Peroni brewery on Via Giovanni Amendola is just a short walk away over the tracks.  Sadly, this was demolished in the last century and the factory relocated to the outskirts of the city.

Clockwise (from top left); 1.) The old Peroni brewery on Via Giovanni Amendola, San Pasquale. 2.) Various shots of Madonnella. 3.) Piazza Francesco Carabellese.

Madonnella gets its name from a statue of the Madonna that was placed in the area’s main square in the latter part of the 19th century.  The original statue is thought to have been destroyed after World War II but was replaced in stone in 1956 and still stands today in Piazza Francesco Carabellese, a stone’s throw from my flat.  As well as its numerous cafes, pasticcerie (cake shops), formaggerie (cheese shops), salumerie (salami shops) and pollerie (erm, poultry shops), Madonnella is dotted with various shrines and religious icons.  

The statue of the Madonna. Piazza Francesco Carabellese, Madonnella.

On my street itself, is a shrine to Saint Antonio of Padua; a Portuguese Catholic priest who devoted most of his life to caring for the poor and the sick before unfortunately succumbing to ergot-poisoning at the tender age of 35 in 1231 in – you’ve guessed it – Padua.  His shrine has its very own lace curtain, healthy-looking plants and flowers that are watered and well-tended to, lights that turn on in the evening and a small piece of red carpet on the pavement that I feel a little guilty walking over whenever I’m returning home with bags of shopping and aren’t able to step into the road.  Miniature Christmas trees and fairy lights even appeared on the shrine in December.  It is immaculate and reminds me of many of the Hindu shrines I saw during my time in India.

For two weeks at the beginning of June, Saint Antonio’s shrine became a hive of activity and excitement. The flowers were even more lovingly attended to than usual and a circle of plastic chairs were placed around the shrine, partially obstructing the road.  Then at 6pm each day, there were daily evening prayers, followed by the odd song.  A group of elder ladies would sit on the plastic chairs circling the shrine, whilst other people living on the street would also take part – leaning over from their balconies to join in and to recite prayers and then bellow out the songs.

Saint Antonio’s shrine in December.

Then on the 13th June – Saint Antonio’s ‘Feast Day’ – the street threw an all-day party to celebrate.  An early morning service was followed by a communal lunch with a long table placed in the middle of the road and the slightly shady “we only serve beer and Fanta” ‘bar’ opposite pumped out reggaeton bangers from 8am until dusk.  There was quite a sizeable pile of empty Peroni bottles left outside by the end of proceedings.

Every now and again a statue of a mysterious lady, shrouded in black, crying and holding a tissue and rosary beads appears next to Saint Antonio’s shrine.  Sometimes, there would be a small wicker basket next to her containing print-outs of prayers.  There’s no denying she’s a slightly ominous presence.  She appeared (perhaps on purpose) whilst my friends Mark and Stuart were visiting from London in September, much to their bemusement.  “Her eyes are following us”, noted one of them as we cautiously filed past her one evening on our way to the city centre.  This mysterious figure tends to appear for a week or so and then disappear again, as quickly as she emerged.

Some research has led me to believe that this mysterious occasional visitor to the shrine is ‘SS Sorrowful’ or ‘Our Lady of Sorrows’ – a Catholic representation of Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Her ‘sorrowful’ nature reflects the “seven sorrows in her life” and are sometimes depicted as “seven daggers plunged into her heart”.  Sounds uncomfortable.

It turns out this this representation of the Virgin Mary also has her own dedicated feast day on 15th September.  It transpired that the celebrations for poor old Saint Antonio back in June were nothing compared to this.  It would appear that SS Sorrowful is something of a night owl as the festivities didn’t really get going until the evening. However; soon it felt like most of the street was out in force.  After the religious ceremony which was conducted by a priest, there was music (the bar opposite again doing the honours), food and then a grand firework display with many of my neighbours setting off DIY pyrotechnics from the roofs of their homes.  Things eventually quietened down shortly after midnight.

The celebration of Our Lady of Sorrows’ Feast Day on 15th September.

Over the past year I have grown very fond of this little street in Madonnella that I am currently calling home.  My flat may be freezing and a little damp during the winter months due to a lack of central heating (from December until the end of February I spend a large amount of my time in hoodies, jogging bottoms and a combination of blankets), but there is never a dull day here – much in a way that is similar to Brixton, my home in London.  Organised religion aside and there is definitely a genuine sense of a co-existing community.  Whilst I am definitely in the minority being British; there is a real mix of nationalities.  As well as Italians, my neighbours included Chinese, Mauritians and Indian families.  Last year, the Carabinieri arrived one Sunday afternoon and appeared to be very publically checking some of my neighbours’ documents.  Whilst this was going on, several of my Italian neighbours came to their defence, angrily shouting at the police from their balconies.  The Carabinieri soon went on their way. 

I enjoyed a tempestuous relationship with one of my downstairs neighbours.  During the summer, the air conditioning unit on my balcony was unbeknownst to me, slowly dripping onto the pavement just outside his front door below.  He rushed upstairs one evening, lit cigarette in-mouth to shout at me and make me aware in a very animated fashion that there was an issue.  I apologised and placing a bucket on the balcony soon resolved the problem.  A few weeks later and after seeing one of my ‘nonna’ neighbours do it, I thought it would be ok to use some of the water that had collected in the bucket to rinse my balcony.  Big mistake.  Once again, I heard a flurry of footsteps coming up the hallway stairs outside my flat and I opened my door to find my neighbour outside shouting “basta!” repeatedly at me.  I soon found out that the word meant ‘enough!’.  

We patched things up though and were pleasant to each other over the next few months; he even helped me to test the intercom buzzer of my front door when it stopped working.  However, I recently noticed that he had moved out and that two middle-aged Indian ladies have moved in in his place.  A few nights ago and there was a big storm in Bari; with wind and rain lashing down on the streets.  I heard some banging coming from downstairs and looked out to see that the two ladies were trying to fasten their front door shut as the double doors kept flying open in the wind.  One of the elder Italian nonnas who lives opposite was also there with them – trying to fix the door shut despite the elements raging around them.  Eventually they succeeded, the banging stopped and the nonna returned home.

I don’t know the lady in question’s name yet but we are on friendly enough terms – usually a wave or a brief “ciao!”.  From what I gather she lives with her mother, sister and daughter in the same apartment and appears to be the street’s matriarch.  Last year I was spotted driving a car and she stopped and warned me to be careful of “gli animali” (“the animals”).  Who knew that inner city Bari is such a haven for wildlife? 

On a few occasions now, there’s been a knock or a ring with some urgency at the communal front door downstairs.  When I’ve gone to open it, she’s there, looking for “il gatto!” – a mischievous cat who has taken a liking to the balcony in our hallway, as well as the corrugated iron roof beyond it.  Several times I’ve let her in so she can stand on the balcony and gradually coax the said cat back down.  

In my basic Italian I asked her on the most recent instance; “è il tuo gatto?” (“is it your cat?”).

“No!”, she replied, laughing, as though I’d asked her a daft question.  “Un gatto di strada!”  

So, this kindly soul has taken it upon herself to look after and protect the local street cat.  Maybe she is an animal lover at heart or just a good person.  Or perhaps the cat keeps the rodent population down.

Either way, keep reading for more stories from Madonnella. 

Looking towards Piazza Francesco Carabellese from my flat in Madonnella.

All is quiet on the street during the daily riposo (1pm – 5pm)

Bari; the resting place of ‘Father Christmas’

Saint Nicholas or San Nicola reigns supreme in Bari.  He’s everywhere.  Countless buildings in the city are named in his honour (for example, the Stadio San Nicola, home of SSC Bari) and it’s not uncommon to see ornate pictures and murals of him adorning houses, bars, cafes and restaurants in the city.  This is all down to his relics essentially being stolen from a tomb in a church in the ancient Greek town of Myria by Italian sailors following the Battle of Manzikert in 1071.  The sailors brought the relics back to Bari and two years later, the Basilica di San Nicola was inaugurated by Pope Urban II to house Saint Nicholas’ remains.  It is said that the Pope personally placed the bones into the tomb underneath the church’s altar himself. 

The Procession of Saint Nicholas, Bari.

Also, known as Nicholas of Bari and Nicholas The Wonderworker, he lived during the age of the Roman Empire and was a Christian bishop of Greek descent who spent most of his life living in the ancient town of Myra on the Anatolia peninsula, now part of Turkey.   He gave all of the inheritance he received from his late parents to charity and was renowned for his spontaneous and secretive gift-giving and later became the inspiration for Santa Claus / Father Christmas.

Although many of the events in Saint Nicholas’ life are historically disputed, he seemed like a pretty sound bloke.  He brought three young children back to life after they were killed by a maniacal butcher, with the intention of turning them into ham.  He saved three poor sisters from a life of prostitution after dropping gold coins to them through the windows of their home.  He appeared as a visitation in front of an executioner, threw his sword to the ground and saved three innocent men from their deaths after they had been condemned by the governor Eustathius.  How a Greek-born philanthropist from 270 AD who spent much of his life living in Turkey morphed into an obese, white-haired, problem-drinking old man known as Santa Claus is unclear but it may have had something to do with the Dutch tradition of celebrating Sinterklaas.

It’s safe to say that Christmas in Bari, given its association with Saint Nicholas is usually a pretty big deal.  Some of my students and Italian friends have told me about big street parties that take place on the 24th and 25th December and it sounds that in pre-Covid times, Christmas week is one big celebration of feasts, dotted with various religious ceremonies.  It is said that Saint Nicholas’ relics continue to produce the miraculous liquid manna to this day.  On his saint’s feast day on 6th December, a flask is used to collect the liquid from his sarcophagus and some is even available to purchase in shops near to the basilica.

Clockwise from left; Christmas lights on Via Sparano, Bari. Bari Lungomare. Basilica di San Nicola on 6th December. Festive panettone.

Another Italian festive legend is that of Befana, a hideous, yet kindly witch who visits children on Epiphany Eve (5th January) and depending on their behaviour over the previous year, gifts them with either presents of candy or lumps of coal.  It is reported that Befana is also a fastidious housekeeper and that she will sweep the floor of the house upon leaving, brushing away the problems of the previous year.  Whilst Father Christmas’ existence is widely-debated, I have seen several possible contenders in Bari for Befana.

I was lucky enough to be able to make it back to the UK for Christmas this year, narrowly avoiding the flare-up resulting from the new super-contagious strain of Covid being identified in London and the South-East in mid-December.  I may have gone a little overboard in packing as much cured meat, cheese, spreads, pistachio nuts and panettone for family into my check-in luggage as possible.  My excuse is that I was following the bountiful example set by Saint Nicholas.  Detox and intermittent fasting begins in January.  

The Christmas bounty from Italy.

I have made an alternative Christmas Spotify playlist for the festive season featuring the likes of James Brown, Calexico and LCD Soundsystem.  Check it out here – enjoy!

Tarantella and Techno; a Year of Live Music in Lockdown Italy

In my last post, I talked about the crisis that many venues across the world are currently facing as a result of the ongoing Coronavirus pandemic.


Italy was the first European country to be stricken by the virus and a strictly-enforced lockdown was introduced on 9th March that lasted for over three months (a government form was required to leave home and even outdoor exercise was banned at one stage).  Either side of this and the current restrictions we find ourselves experiencing, I have been extremely lucky to still see my fair share of live music in Italia

Gigs have been a very different proposition since the pandemic but hats off to the many venues, promoters and artists who have been trying their best to creatively stage fresh and interesting shows, in far from ideal circumstances. 

Below is a rundown of some of the weird and wonderful gigs I’ve experienced over this past year, plus links to how you can find out more about the artists and venues in question. 

Edda – Officina Degli Esordi, Bari – 18th January

My first gig after moving to Bari. Formerly the frontman of Milan’s Ritmo Tribale, Edda is the reformed bad boy of Italian post-punk.  Having overcome a serious drug addiction, Edda now makes emotive electro-tinged power pop, typified by ‘E Se’ and ‘Signora’.  From what I could gather in-between songs, he likes to tell a good story too. 

Listen to: Edda – ‘E Se’

Dardust – TPO, Bologna – 22nd February

Let’s start with the positives.  TPO is a fantastic venue in the North West of Bologna – a converted industrial building that’s now a cracking multi-purpose arts space.  Props to the venue for having reusable beer cups too. Now imagine an Italian Calvin Harris with a pencil moustache and you’re halfway there with our friend Dardust.  An Italian producer from the Marche region, he’s clearly a talented chap and the crowd lapped up his live show.  However, at one stage he had a visual of marching demonic-looking bagpipers on the big screen behind him for an entire song.  Genuinely terrifying. 

Find out moreTPO (Teatro Polivalente Occupato), Bologna

Listen to: Dardust – ‘The Wolf’

Sunday night jazz jam – Binario69, Bologna – 23rd February 

Bologna was one of the favourite cities I visited in 2020.  I planned to stay for four days and ended up spending seven.  I loved its mixture of history, left-wing politics and vibrant student counterculture.  Binario69 is technically a members-only club for those in the know (I had to sign up and pay a small €10 joining fee – you receive a membership card in return).  Tucked away on a small street behind Bologna Centrale station, it’s a laid-back space where patrons sipped cocktails, played board games and listened to Sunday night afro-jazz performed by local musicians.  Prior to the Covid lockdown, Binario69 hosted live music most nights of the week and is now running a crowdfunding campaign in order to stay open.

Find out more: Binario69 crowdfunding campaign

Binario69, Bologna.

Francesco Manfredi Quintet – Palazzo Pesce, Mola di Bari –  20th June

The first gig post-lockdown #1 and held in the sumptuous former family home Palazzo Pesce in Mola di Bari.  After the stringent safety measures upon entry, the concert took place in the sunken garden outside the house with clarinettist Francesco Manfredi and his group paying homage to the songbook of New Orleans’ Sidney Bechet or to quote Manfredi; “the first clarinet player of hot jazz.”  The concert I attended was timed perfectly to coincide with the sunset that evening too.  Blissful.

Listen to: Francesco Manfredi and friends – ‘Si tu vois ma mère’

Elena Matteuci – Diocesan Auditorium Vallisa, Bari – 8th July 

Classical piano virtuoso Elena Matteuci and young violinist Sebastian Zegame paid homage to ‘La Tarantella’, an ancient form of Italian folk music that originated from the Taranto region of Puglia. The bite of the local Tarantula spider was said to make its victims hysterical – a condition known as Tarantism. It was thought that the victims’ only hope was to be revived through the power of music and dance – hence the creation of La Tarantella. There was also a fitting tribute to Ennio Morricone who passed away two days before the concert and an interpretation of ‘Cinema Paradiso’ as the encore. 

Listen to: Elena Matteuci – ‘Scherzo n.2 op. 14, Clara Wieck-Schumann’

Strebla – Extreme Music Academy, Bari – 18th July

Bari’s Extreme Music Academy didn’t have the easiest of starts to life as a new live music venue, opening its doors halfway through the relentlessly tough year which is 2020.  The venue is on the outskirts of the city on the edge of an industrial area by day and red light district by night.  Don’t let its location fool you though as this new venue is a gem – especially if you are partial to metal and punk.  It boasts a large 200-odd capacity live room with a decent soundsystem, an outside courtyard where people hang out between bands and a bar with cocktails named after various metal and rock icons.  “Uno Lemmy e uno Soulfly, per favore”.  I went to the opening night and Bari’s Strebla were the highlight – unusual post-punk / math-rock with staccato time signatures. 

Listen to: Strebla’s Instagram page

Find out more: Extreme Music Academy’s mission statement

Ellen Allien – Sound Department, Taranto – 8th August 

Taranto was another city that I unexpectedly took a liking to during the summer – two days soon became one week.  I was surprised to see that Berlin techno legend Ellen Allien was DJing at the Sound Department venue on the Saturday night of my stay.  Sound Department is located out of town near to the naval docks and is built predominantly from old shipping containers.  At 4am in the morning and without warning, the security staff suddenly winched the metal sides of the venue up towards the sky and then removed the roof to convert the club into an open-air arena as the sun came up.  A very cool concept.

Listen to: Ellen Allien – ‘True Romantics’

Ellen Allien, Sound Department, Taranto (camera phones were taped over by security but I snuck this one photo whilst I was waiting for my cab home).

Game of Sax – Parco Archeologico di Taranto – 10th August

La Notte di San Lorenzo is a night in August that’s famous in Italy supposedly as a chance to see shooting stars clearly in the night sky.  Taranto’s Parco Archeologico, a modest green space, famous for its ancient Greek remains hosted a midnight concert from local musicians Game of Sax to celebrate the occasion.  The locals loved their rendition of Domenico Modugno’s classic ‘Nel Biu Dipinto Di Blu’ and sang along to every word.  About as different to watching Ellen Allien two nights before as it gets. 

Find out more: Parco Archeologico Delle Mura Greche

The Comet Is Coming – Locus Festival, Locorotondo – 14th August 

Locus Festival is arguably Puglia’s most established major music festival.  Since its inception in 2005 it has welcomed a wealth of musical greats including the late Gil Scott-Heron, Lauryn Hill, David Byrne and Sly & Robbie. The 2020 event should have been headlined by Little Simz, Paul Weller and The Pixies but Covid unfortunately put paid to that.  However, a smaller, ‘limited edition’ version of the festival was still held in the grounds of Masseria Ferragnano, a fortified farmhouse on the edge of Locorotondo.  Social distancing, temperature checks and directional queueing systems were in operation in full force but it actually worked quite well and still felt like a ‘proper’ festival.  The only difference being that the audience had to remain seated on plastic chairs for the duration of the performance.

I’ve seen The Comet is Coming and the various other projects of their bandleader Shabaka Hutchings a number of times in the UK so had an idea of what to expect.  The boys even learned some rudimentary Italian for the occasion though!  

Listen to: The Comet Is Coming – ‘Summon The Fire’

Find out more: Locus Festival 2021 (excitingly, Devendra Banhart is the first name confirmed for 2021’s festival)

Domenico Tagliente – Chiesa di San Domenico, Mola di Bari – 20th August

One of the more unusual live performances I have experienced, Domenico Tagliente took over the huge organ at the Chiesa di San Domenico in Mola di Bari and re-interpreted Giorgio Moroder’s score of Fritz Lang’s ground-breaking 1927 silent film ‘Metropolis’ whilst the movie was projected onto a big screen inside the church.  Eerily atmospheric.

Find out more: Domenico Tagliente’s Instagram page

Fake Jam – SMIAF Extreme Sports Festival, San Marino – 4th September

I only stopped off in San Marino City for one night as I drove back to Bari from the UK (a stunningly beautiful place but if truth be told, a tourist haven) but I lucked out with the fact that Fake Jam were headlining the outdoor music stage of the SMIAF Extreme Sports Festival that very night.   Hailing from Bologna, they brought a lot of support with them and specialised in a brand of Parliament and Earth, Wind & Fire-inspired jazz funk.  Excellent and unexpected.

Listen to: Fake Jam’s YouTube channel

B. Fleischmann – Teatro Kismet, Bari – 17th October

B. Fleischmann is originally from Vienna but him and his band are now based in Berlin.  They make marvellously quirky, offbeat pop music with typically Berlin-esque techno inflections.  The show was part of the annual Time Zones Festival, a longstanding annual event in Bari and surrounding areas since 1986 that showcases alternative and non-commercial music – the festival’s motto is “on the paths of possible music”.  This was my first visit to the impressive and modern Teatro Kismet too but sadly the last show before the strict Covid measures were reintroduced in Puglia and all live music ordered to stop. 

Listen to: B. Fleischmann – ‘You’re The Spring’

Find out more: Time Zones Festival

As you can see it’s a somewhat eclectic bunch of highlights but I feel fortunate to have seen such a breadth of artists in what has been a very testing year for live music.  Another mention also goes to the two squat spaces Casa Occupata Via Garibaldi in Taranto and Ex Caserma Liberata in Bari; I went to a bizarre gig at the former where the performer was playing pots and pans with a drumstick, as well as a synth running through his laptop (it was actually pretty cool).  The latter is a cultural hub in Bari and seems to also be home of the city’s small but passionate dub and reggae scene.  I went to a dub party here in February and a lot of the faces there also came to the brilliantly-named Bari Hill Carnival soundsystem in September.  

It’s very interesting that so much of alternative culture in Southern Italy is associated with the squat scene (“una casa occupata”) – something that is a dying breed in London compared to its 1970s peak and famously its associations with the punk, new romantic and acid house movements.  What do Joe Strummer, Bob Geldof, Boy George, the Sex Pistols, Annie Lennox and Depeche Mode all have in common?  They all lived in squats early on in their careers. 

With promising news about the development of Coronavirus vaccines circulating, hopefully live music will be back in earnest in 2021. 

The Year of the Live Music Vacuum

For the past 20 years, live music has been a massive part of my life.  The date of my first-ever gig will be forever etched in my memory; 30th March 2001 and my favourite Welsh political provocateurs Manic Street Preachers at Brixton Academy, South London.  Many years later and I would be able to watch roadies loading bands’ equipment in and out of the very same venue from my flat’s kitchen window on the opposite side of Stockwell Road.  I have also now gone on to see the Manics some 22 times…  

Ever since that day in 2001, I’ve been hooked, whether it’s seeing an emerging artist play a dingy pub in Camden, a DJ at a warehouse party in Hackney Wick, an established band road-testing new material in a mid-sized 1930s art deco theatre or a huge act playing a headline festival or shiny arena show, with the lavish production to match.  Pre-Covid in London I would average a gig a week and tracking down the best places for music is often one of the first things I do when I arrive in a new city.

The Manics on another occasion, this time at Wembley Arena. May 2018.

From a personal perspective, I have played over 300 gigs as a musician, firstly as a member of The Immediate The Shake The Screenbeats and in more recent years as part of a low-key folk duo, inventively named Clive & Vicki.  Most of the venues we’ve played have been part of the well-trodden and affectionately-named ‘toilet circuit’; small capacity and mostly independently-owned venues that aren’t necessarily glamorous but are an essential part of the music ecosystem.  It’s become a clichéd saying but without these places there would be no future Glastonbury or Coachella headliners.  For a couple of years, I worked managing music partnerships for the Tennessee whiskey brand Jack Daniel’s and in particular running an initiative designed to champion these independent small venues.  To represent and deal with such treasured haunts as The Joiners in Southampton, The George Tavern in East London, The Zanzibar in Liverpool and Glasgow’s King Tut’s was a real honour.  It remains an unrealised ambition of mine, to one day open a small venue dedicated to emerging artists.

Clockwise (from top left); 1.) The Screenbeats, The Dublin Castle, Camden. August 2007. 2.) Supporting Milburn at The Charlotte, Leicester. July 2006. 3.) Clive & Vicki expanded to become ‘OCDC’ at the Heavenly Social, W1. March 2018. 4.) Clwb Ifor Bach, Cardiff. May 2007. 5.) The Colony Club, Newbury. December 2003.

2020 has clearly been devastating for the live music industry worldwide.  Not only have countless venues been forced to close their doors with their outgoings far outweighing their income but the impact of the pandemic has affected staff across the board from promoters and tour managers to security, lighting and sound technicians to bar staff and cloakroom attendants. In the UK, the team at the Music Venue Trust charity does a fantastic job of supporting these venues and you can find out what you can do to contribute during this difficult time at their Save Our Venues page.  There’s a great range of merch available to buy from venues across the country and the proceeds go directly to them. 

In Italy, like most of Europe, live shows were immediately halted in early March as the Coronavirus crisis started to quickly worsen.  However, unlike the UK, live music slowly started making a gradual reappearance in the early summer.  The first post-lockdown gig I went to was at the Palazzo Pesce in Mola di Bari in June.  Entry times for the audience were staggered, capacity reduced by half, temperature checks mandatory on the door and every audience member had to provide their contact details upon arrival.  It was definitely a strange experience but joyous to actually see musicians performing live again in person.  

I’ve been very lucky to still manage to see a reasonable number of gigs over the past year in Italy – both before and after the initial lockdown.  Aside from one or two better-known names, most of the acts have been either emerging or just pretty obscure. In my next post will be a rundown of my musical highlights, plus links to how you can find out more about the artists and venues in question if you haven’t heard of them before.  

Expect the eclectic.

In the meantime, you can support musicians and those working in the live music industry during the pandemic crisis by contributing or referring friends or colleagues to the organisations below.

Music Venue Trust

Save Our Venues

Help Musicians

The Musicians’ Union

Off-the-beaten track in Bari

It was the day of my 32nd birthday and a warm Saturday in June.  However, rather than celebrating with friends in a Brixton beer garden, I was in the press room at Wembley Stadium, North London.  I had spent the day in my then-role as PR Director, looking after music and entertainment journalists at a huge pop concert hosted by one of the UK’s biggest commercial radio station groups. We were now having to contend with members of a well-known MOR American pop-rock group throwing a tantrum because, a) they had decided they didn’t want to speak to the assembled throng of media who had been waiting patiently for them after all, and b) the elevator that had been called to take them back down to their dressing room on the ground floor wasn’t arriving “fast enough” for their liking.  I decided it was time for a change in scenery.

Behind-the-scenes at Wembley that day

In January, after living and working in London for 11 years, I moved to Bari and began a new life as an English Teacher at the second largest language school in Italy.   The school in question has 2,000 students and 50 teachers. To say it’s been a step out of my comfort zone would be an understatement but so far, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the experience and have found the work very rewarding.

Prior to applying for the role, my main previous knowledge of Bari was through the legendary 1990s Channel 4 show Gazzetta Football Italia. Also, the fact that the city’s football team was famous for being the first club that English midfielder David Platt signed for during his spell in Italy – indeed the £5.5 million fee S.S.C. Bari paid for him was a British transfer record at the time.  Platt would leave Bari one season later to join Juventus and later Sampdoria in Genoa.

Bari has lived up to its reputation as the “Paris of the Mediterranean” though and is a very liveable city and a great place to immerse yourself in Southern Italian culture.  Before the COVID-19 lockdown and in the brief return to normality during the summer, I have been able to do a fair amount of exploring.  Whilst Bari Vecchia (Bari’s old town) is very quaint and a great place to lose yourself, it is also somewhat now oriented at tourists with its many restaurants, bars and novelty shops.  Below are some of my favourite, more off-the-beaten track places in the city.  Let’s hope they are all able to resume normal service in the not-too-distant future.

Stadio San NicolaStrada Torrebella

Situated 5 km from the centre of Bari, Stadio San Nicola is the home of S.S.C. Bari.  Built for the 1990 FIFA World Cup and designed by the esteemed architect Renzo Piano, whose other creations include The Centre Pompidou in Paris and London’s The Shard, the stadium is a stunning feat of engineering.  Designed to resemble a flower, its 58,270 seats are arranged into 26 concrete ‘petals’ which gives the illusion that the stands are floating.  The changing rooms are under the pitch and accessed via a door hidden in the turf and the stadium is known locally as ‘The Spaceship’.  It’s quite the sight from the ring road around Bari – particularly in the ‘golden’ hour just before sunset. 

The ultras in Curva Nord during S.S.C. Bari vs F.C. Rieti. January 2020.

With S.S.C. Bari now playing in Serie C, the third tier of Italian football, Stadio San Nicola is sadly rarely full these days.  However, watching a game here is still an experience, particularly in the lively Curva Nord where the club’s passionate ‘ultras’ stand, thump drums and sing throughout the match.  Bari’s veteran star striker Mirco Antenucci also spent two years played for Leeds United in the UK, as well as for various Serie A teams.  Antonio Conte also cut his management teeth here in 2007-2009. Tickets cost as little as €10 and buses go direct from outside Bari Centrale station.

Ex Caserma LiberataVia Giulio Petroni, 8

Located in the former Rossani Barracks on Via Giulio Petroni, Ex Caserma Liberata is one of a kind.  Home since 2014 to a community of artists, environmentalists and free thinkers, this sprawling space has been lovingly decorated with some fantastic street art and boasts an urban garden, a music and theatre venue and even an indoor skateboard ramp.  Check the Facebook page for the latest live events that range from poetry readings, punk festivals and dub and reggae parties.

Officina degli Esordi, Via Francesco Crispi, 5

Part-arts centre, part-café, part-workshop, part-studio, Officina degli Esordi is situated between the Murat and Libertà neighbourhoods and is one of Bari’s creative hubs.  An impressive futuristic-looking space with lots of glass, steel and floor-to-ceiling windows, the venue hosts music, theatre, cinema and visual art events, as well as workshops during the day.  There’s also a sizeable, green roof terrace and bar.  I checked out the Italian musician Edda here in February – formerly the frontman of cult Milan group Ritmo Tribale.

Prinz ZaumVia Cardassi, 93

Prinz Zaum is one of my favourite finds in the Madonnella neighbourhood.  It is a café, bookstore and performance space – often hosting acoustic musical performance and book readings.  They also have a photo wall dedicated to David Bowie (it feels very familiar as Brixton, my home in London is famous for being his birthplace and has a large mural of him on the high street), board games and funnily enough, some English ales, such as the Wytchwood Brewery’s Hobgoblin on draught.  A great place to hang out with like-minded souls or to get your head down and do some work during the day.

Prinz Zaum; Madonnella’s bookstore / cafe / bar.
Prinz Zaum’s Bowie wall.

Kursaal Santa LuciaLargo Adua, 5

“Kursaal” is a word deriving from German meaning “a public building in which entertainment is provided”. Kursaal Santa Lucia was built in Bari in 1925 overlooking Largo Adua and the Adriatic Sea. It served for many decades as a much-loved theatre and cinema before becoming derelict. For a period in the last century, Bari was known as “the city with too many theatres” with Teatro Petruzzelli, Teatro Piccinni, Teatro Margherita and Kursaal Santa Lucia all competing for business.

A fine example of late-Liberty style architecture, the building is currently being faithfully restored with the help of Fondo Ambiente Italiano (FAI – the Italian equivalent of English Heritage) and both its main theatre and upstairs function room are set to reopen to the public in 2021. It’ll be exciting to see Bari re-gaining a 1,000-capacity arts venue in the new year!

Pizzeria Il DesiderioVia Dalmazia, 54

My go-to pizzeria in Bari, Il Desiderio is a traditional neighbourhood restaurant on Via Dalmazia in the heart of Madonnella.  The menu has over 50 different kinds of pizzas to choose from, all made with fresh ingredients.  Many of them will set you back just €4 or €5.  The owners are very friendly and bruschetta will often be served ‘on the house’ as a starter.  There’s a takeaway option too (doing a roaring trade during the current situation) and many customers choose to enjoy a €1 ice cold Peroni whilst they wait for their pizza to be cooked to order.

Let’s hope that Bari and its independent businesses are able to get back on their feet soon!