1. Last whispering night here at San Stae. Yes, soughing and sloughing sobs and sighs .
2.These too short evenings or mornings at the Canale Grande lead to thinking thus :
3. Not ” COGITO ” but ” Cogitor ergo sum ” – nowadays it is perhaps equivalent to this : if I am not facebooked about, not mentioned, not e- written to, not performed, not photographed, I do not exist.
4. Take the case of my Venetian ( goldsmith ) friend, Piergiuliano REVEANE, – one of North Italy’s most distinguished artists since Donatello. One of the
great tactilic / visual / light touch who think, bend, form, compose gold , one of the great smiths of my generation with his three golds ( his reds, his pure and whites ) and all he learned from the old
Etruscan artists and from our Early Celts and all.
5. Thus, in this deeply rotten Venezia of the stilts and wooden poles , there is at least one artist who is pure gold.
6. Piergiuliano Reveane , his thinking eye and his seeing, microscopic fingers transmuted my Venice week into pure gold.
7. Now I finger that massive Bompiani ” I CELTI” catalogue of 1991 . Yes, here near my Gran Canale you do feel those early Celti and Cimbri. Great workers in gold.
8. So from where does my Second Symphony , those opening oblique choruses for awful trombones and doublebasses and percussion spring , eh ? My use of the glistening French horns ? Gold as glistening music ?