With the column Sunday listening we want to transform listening into something shared: not only a column to read, but a living space where the public can suggest, remember, tell.
This is why we invite you to propose the song you would like to find in one of the next Sundays.
There's no such boundaries.
Classical music, opera, jazz, rock, pop, songwriter, soundtracks, contemporary music, popular traditions: If a music has something to tell, it deserves to be heard.
How to participate
Write in the comments:
• title of the track • author or interpreter • and, if you want, a phrase to tell us why that music
Alternatively, you can send your proposal directly to the editorial staff The Apeiron Armonies, writing to the email address indicated on the Contacts page.
The proposals received will progressively enter into the next steps of Sunday listening, following the order in which we will be sent, so that this column can become, Sunday after Sunday, also the reflection of your listening, your memories and your musical passions.
Each track will be accompanied by a Marialuisa Veneziano listening guide: history, musical details to recognize, interpretative keys and a video to listen while you continue reading.
A rough and moving evening, in which the music of Morandi, Bach, Guilmant and Liszt became a gesture of beauty, solidarity and community.
Falconara Marittima (An), 9 June 2026
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You should ask yourself sometimes what you really want a crowd when filling a church to listen to an organ.
Certainly not the noise, of which the world is already prodigal dispenser; not light leisure, which is born and dies with the same hurry; not the vanity of being there, because there are places in which also vanity, if it enters, is forced to lower the voice. On the evening of June 6, in the Church of Sant’Antonio da Padova of Falconara Marittima (An), a very numerous community — a full church, indeed filled, as rarely happens for an organ concert — seemed to look for something more ancient and more necessary: a reason to listen together.
And that reason came with the first sound.
It wasn't a simple start. It was as if the air, until that moment immovable, suddenly found a soul. The organ took voice and the church, which was already full of people, seemed to fill itself only then. Because there are tools that accompany thought, and others who call it to judgment. The organ belongs to the latter. He does not ask for distraction, does not give superficiality: he takes the silence of men and measures it.
At the instrument, Marialuisa Veneziano, organist, pianist and musicologist, interpreter of rare intensity, able to combine a powerful technique with an even more difficult quality to find: the inner necessity of sound. He did not play to adorn the evening, nor to please the audience, nor to exhibit that mastery which also appeared evident from the early jokes. It sounded like those who know that every note, if not born from a truth, remains only a note; and that music, when it is not called to say something of man, becomes a useless luxury.
The concert was promoted to Caritas, with the support of President Ondina Valeria Ghergut and the Franciscan friars community of the parish. And it is not a detail to put at the bottom, among the obligatory thanks. It is, on the contrary, the moral key to the evening. Because beauty, when she meets charity, stops being isolated contemplation and becomes work. And the Franciscan friars, with that laborious simplicity that often makes more than many proclamations, have opened the doors not only of a sacred building, but of a possibility: to show that a community can still gather around what it elevates.
To present the concert was Eleonora Tarsetti, and those who had careful eyes would immediately understand that his was not an ornamental presence. There are people who announce them only; others, instead, generate them before they even begin. Eleonora belongs to this second species, more rare and more precious. His voice, measured and participated, brought with him the silent story of a strong, operous friendship, not exhibited. A friendship that believed, organized, supported, prepared the way. Next to her, Marina Mancini has contributed with kindness and grace to lead the public through the evening, as those who accompany without ever oversight, offering to the words the discreet measure of the welcome. This also gave the concert a special tone: not the cold one of the official occasions, but the rarest one of the evenings treated with a light hand, in which every intervention prepares listening and invites the public to enter, step by step, in the deeper meaning of the event.
Between Eleonora Tarsetti and Marialuisa Veneziano we felt that connection that does not need many statements, because it speaks through gestures. And in times when talent is not always kept — sometimes it is looked suspiciously, as if the light of others was a decrease in its own — It is good to see a friendship that does the opposite act: it does not turn out, does not hold, does not measure; it opens. Eleonora Tarsetti opened a door. And from that door that night, the music passed.
The program was not a sequence of songs, but a moral itinerary.
With Giovanni Morandi and his Offer, the organ showed its Italian face, clear, cantabile, almost smiling in its composure. There was on that page a simple, not poor grace; a luminosity capable of combining the sacred measure with a more human, almost theatrical breath. Marialuisa Veneziano made it with finesse, without limestone, without weighting, letting the sound walk in the church as a morning light. It was the right beginning: not the inruption of the sublime, but its announcement.
Then Bach came. And when Bach really enters a church, he never enters as a guest. Get on the ground.
The Touch and escape in minor king (BWV 565), so famous to be often consumed by habit, that evening he found his original severity. It was not the "famous" page that the public recognizes with satisfaction; it was a call. The Toccata has torn the space with a force that seemed musical and moral together. The Escape, then, recomposed that shock in order, voice after voice, as if chaos was called to give reason for itself.
Here the Venetian Master showed an extraordinary mastery. The organ technique, in its complexity of hands, feet, registers, sound balance and control of acoustics, was safe, clear, dominated. But the real merit was another: that technique did not ask to be admired. Served. He claimed. He was carrying. It was like a column hidden inside a building: who looks admiring the time, but the time would not hold without that column. Thus it was the virtuosity of Venice: not vanity, but architecture.
In Bach, his interpretation took the breath of the necessary things. Every voice of escape seemed to advance with its own dignity, and all together they built that miracle that only Bach does so naturally: transforming thought into emotion without betraying either one or another. The church listened real. And there are immobilities worth more than many applauses.
With Alexandre Guilmant and the Symphonie n°1 in D minor by organ, the speech became wider. The organ has assumed symphonic dimension, almost orchestral. Not only liturgical instrument, but sound world: imaginary brass, invisible arches, luminous masses, deep shadows. French writing demanded greatness, but greatness is a dangerous matter: in less experienced hands it becomes weight, rhetoric, noise. Venetian, however, has been able to breathe. The sound widened without overturning; it climbed without crushing; it filled without confusing.
It was, that, one of the moments in which the nature of the interpreter was better understood: a musician capable of power, but not in love with power; able to make the space tremble, but without losing the modesty of detail. And the smell, in art, is not weakness. It is the custody of greatness.
Finally Franz Liszt.
Here the evening entered a harsher, more burning, almost prophetic region. The Präludium und Fugue über It is not only a tribute to the genius of Eisenach: it is a struggle with the name, with the memory, with the inheritance, with that absolute that Liszt pursued throughout his life, now with the impetus of the virtuoso, now with the restlessness of the penitent. On this page the music is not limited to proceeding: search, question, rush, go back. Marialuisa Veneziano has entered there without satisfaction. He did not make Liszt an exercise of skill, although the difficulty was evident and very high. He made a play of it. Every passage seemed to bring with it a question: what remains of man when he entrusts his name to music? What remains of pain when it is transformed into form? What remains of fatigue when it becomes beauty?
In Liszt, the artist appeared in his fullness. Not only the performer from the safe technique; not only the scholar who knows the internal structure of the songs; but the interpreter who risks something of himself. There are correct executions, there are brilliant executions, and then there are executions that seem to have gone through a life before arriving to the public. The Venetian one belonged to this last category. He didn't just produce sound: he delivered it.
And the audience, in a church now almost a single being listening, received.
It could be said that applause was warm, and that would be true. One could say that participation was great, and it would still be true. But there are smaller truths, and for this reason more revealing. One of these happened when, in the still vibrant silence after music, a very young voice shouted:
"Brava prof!"
You cannot invent a better phrase. No critic, no presenter, no release could have said more with so little.
"Brava prof!": two words only, but inside there was the whole evening seen from the eyes of a young man. There was the affectionate amazement of those who recognize, in their teacher, not only the daily figure of the school, but the artist capable of shaking a church. There was the tenderness of a generation that, when it is not educated only to noise, still knows how great it is. There was evidence that music, when it is true, does not remain closed in titles and skills: it also comes there where technical language does not serve, because it speaks the heart.
That cry didn't break the silence. He did.
He entered the solemnity of the evening a simple, clear, irresistible note of life. And perhaps it was at that moment that the concert showed its deepest meaning: not to separate the top from the daily, but to unite them. Bach and school. Liszt and affection. Caritas and virtuosity. The Franciscan friars and the crowd. The friendship of Eleonora and the voice of a boy. Everything, for a moment, together.
This is the power of music when he meets a community: he reassembles what life often divides.
The evening of 6 June had, in fact, a beauty not only artistic, but civil. Caritas, President Ondina Valeria Ghergut, Franciscan friars and those who made the event possible remembered that solidarity is not only an answer to the emergency, but an education of the gaze. Help also means creating places where man can feel part of something again. A church full for an organ concert is not only a success of public: it is a sign. And the signs, when they are honest, are worth more than the statements.
In this sign, Eleonora Tarsetti had the discreet and decisive role of those who know how to recognize before others. But to say only this would be little. There are people who do not come to life to occupy space, but to return it; not to ask for light, but to allow others not to be afraid of it. Eleonora, in this evening, was exactly this: a presence able to believe without intruding, to support without holding, to prepare the way without pretending to be the way.
Not all friendships are generative. Some consulate, others accompany; the highest, however, make things happen. They are those friendships that see when the world distracts, that guard when others disperse, that do not return before the greatness of the other because they do not live it as a threat, but as a gift. At a time when too many energies are consumed to resize, contain, extinguish what exceeds the common measure, a friendship that promotes beauty becomes almost a countercurrent act.
Eleonora did this: she believed in a light and prepared her space. He realized that a concert could become something more than a musical evening; he could become a meeting, charity, memory, recognition. He brought his care within the organization of the event, but above all he brought that rare form of trust that does not need clamor to be decisive. Because sometimes the greatest things do not arise from those who raise their voices, but from those who know how to say, with firmness mild: "this beauty must happen".
So the concert became more than a concert. He became a small parable about recognition.
And in the middle of this parable remains the figure of Marialuisa Veneziano. An artist who does not ask for indulgence, because he possesses the tools of rigour; but who does not take refuge even in rigour, because he knows that art without soul is only well dressed discipline. Its execution has combined precision and fire, control and abandonment, thought and vibration. He made the organ not a monument, but a living creature.
There was, in his way of playing, something we could call responsibility for beauty. Every song seemed brought to the public not as personal possession, but as a gift. Morandi with his grace; Bach with his ordained abyss; Guilmant with its solemn breadth; Liszt with his spiritual fever. Each page became a stage, and each stage allowed not only the composer, but also the interpreter: his culture, his strength, his history, his ability to transform fatigue into form.
When the last vibration dissolved, the church did not immediately return to normal. No place returns identical after being crossed by a necessary music. The walls seemed to hold something again; the faces of the public brought that particular light that appears when you received more than you expected.
Then what happens in true evenings cannot be commanded or predicted: the public stands.
The applause, already long and grateful, has become a full, warm, almost liberating standing ovation. Not only the tribute to a successful execution; was the recognition of something that had touched deeper. The viewers did not applaud only the technique, although extraordinary, nor only the strength of the songs: applauded the experience lived, the emotion received, the feeling of being carried by hand into a higher place.
And precisely in the final greetings, when an artist could easily take refuge in the pride of success, Marialuisa Veneziano chose instead the most difficult and brightest way: that of humility.
He thanked the public with simple words, but capable of moving. "The artist without the public is nothing, because music does not live in the solitary gesture of those who perform it, but in the encounter with those who welcome it. Music needs humanity, people willing to listen, to get excited, to recognize each other through sound."
It was a moment of rare truth.
After Bach, Guilmant and Liszt, after the power of the organ and the intensity of the evening, those words brought everything back to its purest root: the music does not belong to the artist as a possession, but passes through the artist as a gift. And a gift exists only when someone receives it.
The standing ovation, then, is no longer just an applause standing, but an answer. The audience returned to the artist what he had received; and the artist, with humility, handed back to the public the very meaning of music. In that dialogue without score, made of hands, shiny eyes and gratitude, perhaps the deepest meaning of the evening has been fulfilled.
And perhaps this is the right word: gratitude.
Recognize towards Caritas and friars, for making the church an open house. Recognize towards Eleonora Tarsetti, for believing and building. Recognize towards Marina Mancini, for having guided the public with grace and kindness through the passages of the evening. Recognize towards the public, for having filled not only a space, but a silence. Recognize to that young man who, with his "Brava prof!", delivered his most innocent and true phrase to the evening. Finally, she recognizes Marialuisa Veneziano, for having remembered that music, when born from study, pain, faith and dedication, can still perform the most difficult miracle: to make men feel less alone.
We do not know if everyone, coming out of the church, has been able to accurately say what they had heard. Perhaps some will have appointed Bach, others Liszt, others the power of the organ, others still the full church or the emotion of that young cry. But it is not always necessary to give a name to the things that change. Sometimes you just take them away.
On June 6, in Falconara, many entered the church for a concert.
They came out with a memory.
And memory, when it is made of beauty, friendship and charity, resembles a form of grace.
SABATO 6 JUNE 2026 TO THE CHURCH OF SANT’ANTONIO FROM THE MARITTIMA FALCONARA PADOVA, A SERATA IN CHOSE THE GREAT ORGANISTICAL REPERTORIO INCONTRAL SOLIDARITY, THE FRANCE SPIRITUALITY and the SILENTIAL FORZA SILENZIOSA OF AMICIZIA.
The concert poster Saturday 6 June 2026
By Claudia Valenti
Falconara Marittima, 3 June 2026
The organ is not an instrument that simply sounds. It is a tool that you cross. He needs hands, of course, of feet, of study, of control, of a very strict technique; but above all he needs a vision. Because the organ, more than any other instrument, gives nothing to the surface: it amplifies what the interpreter is. If there is empty inside, it returns empty. If there is thought, it returns architecture. If there is soul inside, then the sound becomes destiny of the air.
On June 6th, at the Church of Sant’Antonio da Padova in Falconara Marittima, the public will be able to listen to the Maestro Marialuisa Veneziano, organist, pianist, musicologist, cultural journalist and music diffuser, in a concert born from the encounter between art, spirituality and solidarity.
Marialuisa Veneziano is a rare artist: graduated in Piano at the Conservatory "Santa Cecilia" in Rome, built over time a path in which interpretation, research, writing and dissemination are never separate compartments, but parts of a same vocation. He played in contexts of particular prestige, even on occasions linked to the spiritual and institutional life of the Church, including moments connected to the pontificates of Benedict XVI and Pope Francis. The concert career has accompanied an intense musicological, journalistic and educational activity, until the foundation and direction of the cultural title "Le Apeiron", a place of reflection on music, art and thought. But what strikes, meeting it, is not only the resume. It is the not common understanding of humility and artistic greatness. Venetian speaks of music with almost religious respect, but without rigidity; with deep culture, but without satisfaction. He is an artist who knows the hard discipline of study and together with the human fragility that every true interpretation brings with it. Its organistic technique, solid, refined, able to govern with gloss keyboards, pedals, logs, sound planes and acoustic complexity of the instrument, is never performed as fine virtuosity to itself: it becomes a means to dig, to say, to illuminate. The concert on June 6 will also be a community gesture. Behind the evening is the work of those who believed in the value of an event capable of combining beauty and concrete participation: Caritas, pr
On the eve of the concert, we met Marialuisa Veneziano for a real, intense conversation, sometimes surprising, in which the musical program becomes an opportunity to talk about art, friendship, faith, resistance and personal destiny.
Teacher, the concert on June 6 was born in a community: Caritas, President Ondina Valeria Ghergut, the Franciscan friars of the Parish. What's the value for you?
It has a huge value, because a concert so it never comes from one person. Of course, then on the instrument I am, with my responsibility, my study, my way of breathing inside the music. But first there is a network of people that makes the meeting possible. Caritas, Ondina president and the Franciscan friars community have done something deeply beautiful: they believed that a musical evening could become a gift for the falconian community. They made available not only a space, but a trust, a care, a rare availability. And when a religious and solidarity community opens its doors to music, it is not simply hosting an event: it is saying that man also needs beauty to remain human. I feel very grateful. The Franciscan friars carry with them an idea of simplicity and essentiality that moves me. St. Francis spoke to creation, poverty, light and the last. And at the bottom of the music, when it is true, does something like this: it does not impose, does not scream, but reaches. It comes where words often fail to arrive.
Often behind a concert there is not only the work of the artist, but also a silent plot of trust, meetings and friendships that make the event possible. How important is it for you to know that someone recognizes the value of an artistic project and chooses to promote it?
It matters a lot, because a concert never arises only when the artist sits on the instrument. It was born much earlier: from trust, from intuition, from someone who looks beyond the surface and understands that an artistic project can become an opportunity for beauty, meeting and good. In this path, Eleonora Tarsetti had a fundamental role, a person deeply linked to the parish reality and the falconarean community, who believed in the strength of this musical proposal. It was she who realized that an organ concert could not only be an eventcultural, but a moment of recollection, sharing, opening to the city. He recognized a possibility and chose to take care of it, with discretion, care and determination.Here, for me this word is decisive: recognize. We often live in environments where talent is not accompanied, but supervised; where competence is not valued, but resized; where light bears are sometimes invited, with a lot of education and little size, to lower the flame not to disturb the surrounding darkness. There are working realities that should nourish people and instead consume them; places where we talk a lot about collaboration, but we practice too often the subtle art of shutting down. For this, when you meet someone who does the opposite gesture — that does not turn out, does not diminish, does not fear, does not hold — you feel almost physically the difference. Eleonora did this: he saw, believed, opened a road. He did not ask the music to regret to remain in a mediocre measure; he wanted, on the contrary, that it could reach the community in its fullness. There are people who come to life not making noise, but moving something. They do not enter with great proclaims, they do not promise seas and mountains: they simply see. And when a person really sees you, especially when you struggle to recognize yourself entirely, he does a huge gesture. Because being seen does not mean being praised: it means being understood in one's own truth. In an artistic path you study so much, you work so much, you fall, you get up. You also learn to resist those environments where quality is accepted as a threat instead of as a wealth; to those contexts where who knows how to do is often looked with suspicion, as if preparationHe doesn't ask you to continually prove who you are. She recognizes you. And that recognition becomes a home. Eleonora, in this concert, was also this: not only a friend, not only an organizational presence, but a person capable of transforming trust into action. He believed in me, he proposed to me, worked for the idea to take shape and arrive at Caritas, the Franciscan friars community, parish, people. He did all this with a care that does not belong to simple efficiency, but to something more rare: love for what is built. For me this is a very high form of friendship: do not hold the other in the shadows, but accompany it towards the light. Don’t just say "I’m close to you," but make sure that what the other brings inside can meet the world. True friendship does not level, does not envy, does not fear the greatness of others. True friendship can say: "Go, this must live." That's why this concert also bears its invisible name. Not as an official signature, perhaps, but as a deep presence. Because there are events that are realized thanks to programs, permissions, spaces; and then there are events that are realized because someone, first of all, has been able to say: "it is worth it". I'm grateful for opening a door. And certain doors, when they are opened by a true friend and a person who loves their community, do not only lead to a concert: they lead to a greater form of shared destiny. In the end, perhaps, the most beautiful sense of this evening is also here: show that where any
The organ is an imposing, almost superhuman instrument. What is your personal relationship with this tool?
It is a relationship of love and fear. Fear in the noblest sense: respect, threshold, dizziness.The organ is not a tool you can possess. You can study it for years, you can know the technique, you can govern hands and feet, you can work on phrasing, recording, form; but in the end each organ remains a new encounter. Each instrument has a character, a voice, a resistance, a secret. And every church still transforms it. With the piano the sound is born under the fingers. On the other hand, the sound is also born elsewhere: in the air, in the reeds, in the space, in the distance between you and what comes back. You press a button and the sound answers you from another point, as if it comes from a larger area than you. For this reason the organ continually educates me to humility. Remember that it's not enoughGood. You have to listen. You have to wait. You have to understand when to drive and when to let yourself be guided.
Marialuisa Veneziano at the organ
The public often imagines the organ as a severe, liturgical, distant instrument. Is the evening program gonna try to break this idea?
Yes, very much. The organ is certainly linked to the liturgy, spirituality, the great sacred tradition. But reducing it to this would be like looking at the sea and saying that it is just water. The organ can be monumental, but also intimate. It can have the power of an entire orchestra and, a moment later, the delicacy of a solo voice. It can evoke prayer, but also dance; it can be theatre, meditation, fire, shadow, joy. The program is thought like a journey between these possibilities. I don't want the audience to witness a sequence of songs like a showcase. I would like you to enter a story: every music page will be a room, a landscape, a different question.
Is there an existential question that music asks her every time she sits in the instrument?
Yes. "What are you really looking for? "I think every artist, sooner or later, has to answer this question. It is not enough to look for applause, it is not enough to seek perfection, it is not enough to seek recognition. They're human things, of course, but they can't be the center. When I sit at the organ, especially in a sacred place, I feel that the question is more radical. Looking for beauty? Am I looking for truth? Am I looking for consolation? Am I trying to turn something into a sound that can also speak to others?Music puts you in front of yourself. You can't lie too long. Sooner or later the sound reveals everything: your strength, your fear, your discipline, your wounds, your faith in life. Maybe that's why I keep looking for her. Because music doesn't allow me to become superficial.
She possesses an organ technique of great solidity, but in her interpretations it seems that the technique never wants to show itself. What is the relationship with virtuosity?
The technique is indispensable. Without technique there is no freedom, there is only intention. And the intention alone is not enough. The organ requires huge control: hands, feet, logs, instrument response times, acoustics, voice balance. It is a wonderful and complex machine. We must have clarity, coordination, mental resistance, precision. But the technique, if it remains end to itself, becomes gymnastics. I think the highest virtuosity is what disappears within the meaning. The audience may not think: "how difficult is what you're doing." You must feel that difficulty has become an expression. The technique is like grammar of a language: necessary, but no one moves for grammar alone. It moves when that grammar becomes poetry.
In your path you also knew obstacles, resistances, attempts to resize. Was music also a form of defense?
More like a form of truth. The defense sometimes stiffens; the truth instead stands. Every person who does something seriously encounters, sooner or later, those who try to diminish, to soil, to remove light. It's part of life, though it shouldn't. But the important thing is not to become like what hurts us. I think serious work has a louder voice than noise. Those who try to break someone often forget something simple: if a person has deep roots, notJust shake a little wind to drop it. And if art is authentic, sooner or later it finds the way to speak. I prefer to respond with the studio, with music, with quality. It is a form of elegance, but also of survival. The organ, in this, is a great teacher: it does not discuss with noise. It's high.
She is also musicologist, cultural journalist and divulner. How much does it matter to tell the music, as well as to play it?
It matters a lot. Music needs to be heard, but also accompanied. Not because the audience is not able to understand, but because every listening can become deeper if someone opens a door. Divulge does not mean simplifying until trivializing. It means making complexity accessible without betraying it. I always thought culture shouldn't be on a pedestal. He has to go down among people, not to lower himself, but to raise everyone's gaze. Music is a form of thought. It teaches us time, wait, relationship between the parties, silence. In a society that consumes everything quickly, educating to listen is almost a revolutionary act. And maybe even therapeutic.
Having played in important places and occasions, also linked to solemn moments of the Church, what changes when playing in a local community?
It doesn't change responsibility. In fact, sometimes it increases. Playing in prestigious contexts is certainly exciting. These are experiences that mark, which remind you of the greatness of a tradition, the symbolic weight of certain places, the history that passes through music. But a local community has something equally valuable: proximity. Falconara won't play for an abstract audience. I'll be honored for people who live that territory, that parish, that community. People who will perhaps enter with the labors of the day, with their stories, their worries, their hopes. And music will have to talk to them, not to an ideal idea of audience. This is beautiful for me. Because the great music does not belong only to the great stages. It belongs to every place where someone is willing to listen to it.
What would happen in the audience during the concert?
I'd like a little inner shift to happen. Not necessarily something clamorous. Sometimes the most true transformations are silent. I wish someone, listening, would find a forgotten thought. Let someone else feel a form of peace. That someone else would go out and say, "I didn't think the organ could talk to me like this." Authentic music does not invade. Work inside. Deposit. Continue after the last note. And perhaps the most beautiful concert is not what ends with an applause, but what continues in the memory of who was there.
If you were to define the concert on June 6 with an image, what would you choose?
An open door. A door opened by Caritas, President Ondina, Franciscan friars, Eleonora, the community. A door through which music can enter and exit, because beauty should not be held. It must be shared. And then an inner door. Because the organ, when it resounds in a church, seems to open something above us, but also within us. It reminds us that we are not only meant to run, defend, produce, endure. We are also made to listen, to move, to recognize us in something bigger.
The concert on June 6 is therefore announced as much more than a musical appointment. It will be an evening in which the falconareus community will be able to meet a thick artist, capable of combining culture, technique and human intensity; but also a woman who, behind the solidity of the path and the strength of interpretation, preserves an increasingly rare quality: the humility of those who know that music never belongs entirely to those who perform it.
In M° Marialuisa Veneziano live the rigor of the performer, the depth of the scholar and the passion of the disseminator. But, above all, there emerges an obstinate fidelity to beauty. A faithfulness that does not ignore the difficulties, crosses them. He doesn't deny pain, he transforms it. It does not respond to noise with other noise, but with a higher note. And maybe this is the strongest message of the evening: music, when born from a true need, is never decoration. It is a form of spiritual resistance. It is the way a community gathers, a friendship becomes gesture, a cause finds voice, and an artist delivers not only his talent to the public, but the clearest part of his history. On June 6, in the Church of St. Anthony of Padua, the organ will not only be heard. He'll be inhabited. And, at least for one evening, his breath will become the breath of all.
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