Pablo, this is glorious. I can feel the la votata swirling in my bones just reading your description.
I had a flashback while reading this, not to a village festival in Southern Italy (though now firmly on my list), but to my dad and his djembe drum, with our deranged dog howling along in what can only be described as a kind of Scandinavian soul-exorcism. I swear they had their own votata going.
There’s something beautifully raw in what you’ve described, the way the rhythm becomes a possession, the dancers sync up like they’re being summoned by something older than language. The idea that you can’t plan a Tammurriata, only stumble into it, feels exactly right. Like a psychological breakthrough, you never know when it’s coming, but when it hits, you feel it.
Beautiful wording, thank you. I often lack words to convey ideas and you have them all. A thought, maybe next time I’ll just send you the raw videos and you help me write about them 🙃
Pablo, this is glorious. I can feel the la votata swirling in my bones just reading your description.
I had a flashback while reading this, not to a village festival in Southern Italy (though now firmly on my list), but to my dad and his djembe drum, with our deranged dog howling along in what can only be described as a kind of Scandinavian soul-exorcism. I swear they had their own votata going.
There’s something beautifully raw in what you’ve described, the way the rhythm becomes a possession, the dancers sync up like they’re being summoned by something older than language. The idea that you can’t plan a Tammurriata, only stumble into it, feels exactly right. Like a psychological breakthrough, you never know when it’s coming, but when it hits, you feel it.
Thank you for sharing this.
Siggy
Beautiful wording, thank you. I often lack words to convey ideas and you have them all. A thought, maybe next time I’ll just send you the raw videos and you help me write about them 🙃
Your words shine far and wide Pablo!
I appreciate the restack Steven!