It all began during a casual evening at Bar dello Sport in Serramonacesca, with friends, locals, and the unmistakable red glow of Campari Soda bottles on the tables. The bar had that warm, informal energy that small Abruzzo villages can suddenly produce at night: half conversation, half improvisation, and always the feeling that something could be decided over the next round.

At some point, the idea came up for a Campari-sponsored jam session night. A poster was needed, preferably something more memorable than the usual bar flyer. I was there as a musician, but also as a graphic designer, and I offered to take care of the artwork. By the time I walked back home late that night, the idea had already started to mutate into something stranger and more personal.

This is a semi-serious rendition of the story behind the making of this project —
a replica of the Time Circuits from Back to the Future, turned into a talking alarm clock.

Aside from actual time travel (which may or may not be possible depending on your time zone, ISP, and your ability to construct a flux capacitor), it works beautifully as a nostalgic gadget, delivering iconic quotes from the film.

The theremin is an electronic musical instrument played without physical contact. The performer controls pitch and volume by moving their hands in the space around two antennas, turning gesture, distance, and capacitance into sound.

It is named after its inventor, Leon Theremin, who developed the instrument around 1920 and patented it in 1928. Originally known by names such as etherphone or thereminvox, the theremin became one of the earliest and most iconic electronic musical instruments: a fascinating hybrid of physics, performance, radio-frequency electronics, and musical expression.

This video is the official behind-the-scenes documentary filmed in Los Angeles during the recording sessions of A Vision, an original jazz album by Italian vocalist, lyricist, educator, and composer Lorena Fontana. The making-of was directed by Alessandra Arcieri, with my contribution focused on audio and video editing: assembling the material into a coherent short documentary and shaping the raw footage into a narrative that could preserve the intimate, concentrated, and collaborative atmosphere of the session.

Many years ago, a small constellation of artists, musicians, wanderers, friends, and temporary inhabitants gathered for a stone-carving metasymposium in the hills of Collecorvino, in the province of Pescara. The place was known among us as Crowin’ Hill: a rural house, half commune and half creative shelter, set in that inland Abruzzese landscape where olive trees, dusty roads, improvised tools, and unfinished conversations could all belong to the same afternoon.

In 2006, during a short gap between travels and projects — and shortly before I left for Australia for what would become several years abroad — I had the chance to collaborate as a guest keyboardist with Fire Makers, an independent heavy metal band from Italy.

The contact came through Massimo “Dingo” Candido, who involved me in the recording sessions for material connected to the band’s Metal Empire project. I recorded my keyboard parts at ACME Studios in Abruzzo, near the Sulmona / Raiano area: a compact but serious recording environment that, at the time, gave the session the right balance between underground metal energy and professional studio focus.