This spring I had translated some passages from the book of Torpedine, RICOMINCIO DAI TRE, and, seeing your great interest, I immediately translated the chapter about the night in which Ignazio did not return to the hotel.
For fear of having some copyright problem, I wrote several messages on the Facebook page of Michele Torpedine, LA TORPEDINIERA, asking permission for publication. I have repeatedly asked for an answer but I have never had any, until September 7th.
I received this response from the Torpedine staff:
“Good morning, Daniela, the wait – as you might have guessed – derives from business reasons. However now we refer to Michele. Thank you. -Staff”
Since then I still waited in vain, and because in my last message I had reported that I would have posted anyway, I would say that, if there was a problem posting the story, they would have communicated it to me.
I leave the post as I had set it a few months ago.
We started to get to know the manager of IL VOLO a little better and we really liked what we read.
The book RICOMINCIO DAI TRE, we recall that it was written by Michele Torpedine and published by Pendragon and distributed by LaFeltrinelli.
The piece that I’m going to translate this time, speaks of the night in which Ignatius did not return to the hotel, the anxieties, the concerns of a manager, but also a great friend. Naturally I await your comments and impressions.
A leap forward. Some time after. At night. A drama in which waiting is the solution.
I am in a big city in the United States where my last new artistic creature – IL VOLO – is going to perform in one of the prestigious concerts of their first American tour. Just a few hours before we joked in a restaurant with the euphoria of the successes already collected, with that contagious good humor that the three boys of IL VOLO have never abandoned, in spite of a sense of responsibility necessary but almost excessive, considering that in their peers it is rare commodity.
But that very responsibility in which I trusted so much, that night has cheated me.
I should not have condescended on a tour of the city with friends known the day before.
To think that, in spite of my suspicious nature, they had seemed right to me.
Instead Ignazio has not returned to the hotel. His cell phone is off.
The night goes forward and no news. Nothing at all.
Piero and Gianluca, tired of the evening, left him a few hours ago alone with other friends around public places, a few drinks, some girls.
The three of IL VOLO are very young and in themselves, it could be normal.
In my case, of course, there was the managerial responsibility for the engagement with an audience of about 10,000 people.
But perhaps it was only a question of staying apprehensive for a while and at most making him a stern rebuke when he returned, as his father would have done.
But it is already three o’clock at night. The city is large and unknown.
Ignazio is seventeen years old. Everything makes us think of the worst.
Start the process of pragmatics with my staff: we look in the hospitals, let’s go to the police.
No news. good news, say the British, but I’m not calm, for nothing.
A part of my mind chases monsters, then makes them disappear, then again materializes them and chases them.
The other part, perhaps to keep steady, retraces the first encounter with Ignazio and his parents, his bold manner of facing the scene, from Gascon, without fear.
Yes, I think, now that I do not know where he is and I am responsible not only for his career, but also for his life: Ignazio is always sure of himself, he always knows how to face everything and everyone.
Different was the meeting with Piero, the oldest of the three, who remembers me a little when I started, when I wanted a career as a musician.
Finally, Gianluca, and the first impression with him, certainly wrong: that aspect of a fragile, emotional boy, contained instead a strong character and very clear and precise ideas.
Meanwhile, no news yet. Needless to worry in advance, but now anger came.
And what to do then? Warn parents or not? Make them worry, at a distance with nothing certain? It was not yet the case.
But the concert? Cancel it? What economic damage would I have gone to?
A part of my mind was milling this, asking and answering, building anguish and erasing it.
But the other part, no.
While the only solution was the wait, I thought that those three guys determined and prepared, they had saved me from depression and the desire to leave everything.
Three teenagers, yes, but already great, in all respects.
Already great since the first time I saw them.
So my mind returned to that new beginning while I waited for Ignazio. Which fortunately reappeared, after that interminable night.
And in the evening he sang as always, indeed, better than ever: wonderfully.
Piero, Ignazio and Gianluca embrace Michele Torpedine, his brother Nino and his sister Liliana.
Great Michele, we can imagine the worry that evening and the relief when Ignazio is back, dented, but safe and sound.
That evening at the concert Ignazio wanted to thank all the crew and especially his friends-brothers Piero and Gianluca, making them a surprise with a video during the concert.
For those who have not seen it, here it is, was made by people therefore not of excellent quality, people laugh thinking that Ignazio is joking, but we know well, now, what had happened. Very sweet.
Credit to all owners of video and photos.