Our colleague and friend Maurizio Principato has left us

For many listeners it was early morning or midnight on Tuesday. That is the openings of classical music on Sunday, or the broadcast in the middle of the night where you mixed your quality music, with tales of notes and emotions.

For the radio schedule, however, you were much more: the columns at Foreign and Cult, the impromptu performances wherever they were needed, leaving as a correspondent to the Medimex in Bari or being a correspondent from Tel Aviv for a musical review …

For the life of the radio you were something else: you could indifferently play bass with Abbo, the company resident band, or slice watermelons at mid-August parties, or look for a sponsor or an advertising contract for a broadcast. All commitments to fit with those you had off the radio. And here, too, as a variety, we were not kidding.

Present a volume of Graphic Novel or organize an event on Abba, tell the fascination that countries like Norway or other parts of the deep north inspired you. Or enchant the bystanders in one of those evenings where you told the life and music of artists you treated as if they were your schoolmates. For example, you were able to tell David Bowie as if you had known him personally …

Behind the radio microphones or those of one of your evenings you knew how to convey your passion for art and beauty. And you did it with a voice that is what all those who make radio would like to have. And your voice, together with your smiles and your discreet presence, will be an insurmountable lack. We like to think that maybe now you can get Frank Zappa, your teacher, to explain to you the secrets of his follies that you still weren’t able to decrypt.

You often said that “life is a journey”, but you could also not leave so early …


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