Mercury Falling: 1996/97

Arena, the great return of quality rock with Sting and Van Morrison...

It's wonderful to see the Arena alive and young again after so many years, not embalmed, filled with ten thousand or more people eager to participate, to experience the emotions.

On stage, under the inappropriate label of "Verona Jazz," are two "legends" from two different rock eras: Van Morrison and Sting. With all due respect to the opera and symphonic season, rock is also culture, and it is the culture of our time. Hearing Sting conclude his concert late at night with a chorus of ten thousand voices softly intoning, over a delicate guitar arpeggio, "How Fragile You Are" has an almost symbolic meaning in a place that, at two thousand years old, can rightfully be considered "fragile," despite the thousands of tons of granite it is composed of. But once appropriate limits and criteria for use have been established, the Arena's use by young people gives the structure a value that goes far beyond the mere museum-like respect due to a vestige of the past. It makes it a living element, to be preserved and passed down as an integral part of social life and a place that generates emotion and enthusiasm.

And to still consider rock music the exclusive preserve of young people is a mistake. A musical world approaching half a century of existence has now broadened its audience to include multiple generations, as has happened with jazz and with "classical" music. Van Morrison, 52, who first gained recognition in the mid-1960s, is a musician for forty-year-olds, or for those who can grasp the nuances of soul, rhythm and blues, and swing in his music, which ranges from Ray Charles and the blues to his dark Irish ballads, built on variations between two basic chords. His voice, raspy and sharp, like the wind on the cliffs, cuts through the melancholy and slightly monotonous air that runs through the veins of his latest album, 'The Healing Game,' and hints of his immense previous output, the inevitable 'Moondance,' the harmonica that creates blues flavours.

Sting is much less distant from Morrison than it appears on the surface: their shared love of jazz, certain black music, Irish ballads, and a certain archaic mysticism, however, are oriented in Sting toward a more modern conception of music, a different use of wind instruments, and a more decidedly rock and new age edge, backed by Vinnie Colaiuta's rhythmic drive and Kenny Kirkland's expert blend of keyboard colours.

For Sting, who travelled to Modena yesterday to pay his respects to his friend Luciano Pavarotti, this is his last audience date of the millennium. The Newcastle-born singer, who learned several words of Italian in Tuscany, where he often resides, has announced his desire to stay and enjoy the joys of family life and catch his breath until the end of the century. Just a couple of years now.

Perhaps that's why he immediately indulges his fans, who struggle to keep from running to the edge of the stage or jumping to their feet, with the hottest songs from his and The Police's repertoire - 'If I Ever Lose My Faith,' 'If You Love Somebody,' 'Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic,' 'Seven Days,' 'Mad About You,' 'Fields of Gold,' a twisted 'Synchronicity,' 'Roxanne,' 'Demolition Man,' 'Englishman in New York' with a rap insert, 'Every Breath You Take,' and 'Lithium Sunset' before 'Fragile,' as well as a few excerpts from his latest album 'Mercury Falling' ('I Was Brought To My Senses,' 'Hung My Head') - in a dazed and amused atmosphere.

The double bill, three and a half hours of music, is a true seasonal highlight, even spared by the inclement weather that loomed throughout the day. The three-day jazz festival concluded yesterday at the Roman Theatre with the trio John Zorn, Bill Laswell, Mick Harris, and eighty-year-old pianist Hank Jones.

(c) Il Gazzetino by Gio Alajmo