What’s particularly interesting in Giovanni Di Domenico’s works at his name – this being the second after 2017’s Insalata Statica – is the choice to put his superb pianistic autodidacticism slightly aside to focus on the junction and superimposition of small tuneful cells under the umbrella of a quiet multi-instrumentalism (plus a few field recordings). Indeed guitars, bass, percussion and other types of keyboard are all handled by the Brussels resident, the raw material edited into a pair of extended suites.
The music’s spirit may easily appear as minimalist, yet its melodic inclination conveys scents of an adolescent summer rather than math-derived entrancement. A feeling of warmth, of comfortable reverberation, of bathing in frothing waters without any peril. Layers of variously toned arpeggios generate charming reverberations, occasionally supported by pliable chordal tissues; a vague harmonic framework is delineated, any intention to precisely contour what we’re hearing pushed away. A mild variation appears at the beginning of part two, a peculiar merry-go-round with female voices, xylophone and hand claps eliciting a Dario Argento-tinged, pre-murder atmosphere. It makes sense, in a weird fashion.
Di Domenico has lived through uncommon experiences as a child, and his artistic CV is equally multifaceted. This congenital variety shines across the album, which will probably cause a lot of listeners to quote names. I did it as well, some of the connections even surprising (OK, I’ll give you this: at one point, the apparition of a Roedelius/Pink Floyd/Biota hybrid affected this writer’s inexorably desensitized fantasy). Never mind: just lend your body and soul to Zuppa Di Pazienza with serenity, and be rewarded by nothing else than acoustic niceties.