umberto di grazia “dimensione sogno” compact disc-recordable

• verso la sorgente (3:11)
  
• dimensione (2:12)
  
• tempo (1:25)
  
• ipnos (2:52)
  
• l’ignoto (1:52)
  
• lo spazio (1:51)
  
• irreale (2:02)
  
• viaggio nel tempo (1:50)
  
  
• verso la sorgente (solo) (3:12)
  
• dimensione (solo) (2:09)
  
• tempo (solo) (1:38)
  
• ipnos (solo) (2:49)
  
• l’ignoto (solo) (1:53)
  
• lo spazio (solo) (1:48)
  
• irreale (solo) (2:02)
  
• viaggio nel tempo (solo) (1:46)

creel pone press release...

this creel pone edition includes: 1 x crystal-clear re-sealable polypropylene cd sleeve with a green / gold foil stamp affixed to the exterior 1 x double-sided professionally printed full-color semi-gloss photo-stock booklet 1 x six-color inkjet-printed compact disc-recordable in a high-density round-bottom anti-static cd sleeve from the xith ch. of the book: « dlmenslone sogno » the study of music has always fascinated me. when i was sixteen, i managed to buy myself a guitar and some « easy » instructions for playing it. the « method » consisted of a booklet illustrating the chords of the guitar on which enormous fingers slid up and down. but i dind'nt learn a thing from that system; so i threw the guitar into the depths of a trunk. however, in my dream, here i am an acclaimed musician. seated at a piano, i am staring at a score lying open on the music stand. there is complete silence in that splendid music hall, thronged with people. i stare at the music stand: how can will i understand any of this musical piece and how can i perform it on the piano if i don't know how to play? there is an expectant silence around me. i can see myself now. i have ont a smooth black velvet suit with delicate and frilly white lace at the cuffs and neck; and dark shoes with silver buckles and tassels. now i am reflected in the shiney panel of the piano: i am an old man. i stretch my fingers on the keyboard... i am playing, it is music of a moving profound sweetness. that dream repeats itself and each time with greater wealth of detail on my surroundings and myself. i see the little alleys and houses of a small italian town and « i feel » as though i am living in the second half of the eighteenth century. i am aware of being a music teacher as well as a composer: in fact « i feel » as though i am being attended, now by pupils. and now by a devoted and admiring public. i am contented, serene; but i have a longing for france because « i feel » that there, i lived more intensely. the walls of my « studio » are covered with placques, diplomas, framed dedications; but i can't manage to decipher them. when i play, i feel a melancholic but sweet torment like the memory of a distant, lost happiness. this dream-like music resounds in my ears even when i am awake. unfortunately, i do not have the cultural means to transcribe it. i was talking about it with some friends, among whom antonia, mimma and giuliano could testify to this. they drew a stave for me and i arranged a few dots here and there. what came out of this was a sort of musical script without key or tempo that - when tried out on a guitar and a piano - seemed to have and idyllic character. i showed my « dots » to several people including qualified musicians. some speak of my music as a gregorian chant, others as a dirge to be played on a flute, others as songs for harpsichord... one person says it is a question of « transmitted » music and he is doing historical research into this. there have been those, who have asked « my » opinion of the music i have heard while dreaming. i have answered that i think that it is related to the most remote periods ... it is my view - that is to say - that it goes back to times when (especially in the indochina area) there came about the habit of communicating in a geometric-sonic way, thus giving life to what nowadays could be called a code of international, or even better, universal understanding. it consists, i believe, of a series of ideogrammes transcribed on a tablet and recording the sounds emitted by rudimental wind instruments: probably reed pipes. on the upper part of the tablet, incised beneath the ideographic representations of the signs of the zodiac, were indications of mountains and hills; on the central part, those of plains of a more or less undulating nature; and, near the bottom, those of valleys, ditches and ravines ... as well as lakes, rivers and seas ... when a meeting occurred betwen two individuals who had different means of verbal expression, it was possible that these individuals could communicate, for example, the place they were coming from and the direction in which they were heading; and that one could ask the other for information concerning the nature of the route to be covered... it is obvious to think that the sounds, with their different pitch, intensity and duration, with their different rhythm, could succeed in describing, for instance, the relative ruggedness of a mountain, the distance across a hill or a plain ... whether the sea was calm or rough ... « lento », « andante », « dolce », « agitato » ... a crescendo of sounds: their blending or their sudden interruption ... this dream-like music makes me long for lost paradises, ages of innocence and gaiety, clear and strong sentiments, simple and spontaneous affection. i have enjoyed this type of affections since i was sixteen. if i speak about them here, it is so that the reader who wants to take me as an object of his psychological-scientific probings, can know the genesis of my character, affective or rebellious, to puzzling conformism. i was eight years old. i lived in rome, in an old villa. that day, i was playing in the courtyard. i was climbing up a staircase and sliding down the bannister. i fell off and hurt myself rather badly. someone leaned out of a window on the ground floor, picked me up, and held me in their arms. he was a medical student from a pleasant, cordial, and open falily. he carried me into the house to take care of me. it was then that i saw her. a little girl, a delightful child in a long dressing-gown. that little girl - rosaria - seemed to me a magical apparition: a little figure from a fable. she was the youngest of eight brothers of which the medical student was the eldest ... from that day, i was more often in rosaria's house than in my own ... the girl and i became inseparable ... when i was sixteen i kissed my friend for the first time. i felt that i loved her and i started to dream about a joyous future ... but rosaria vanished from my horizon. she confided in someone who scolded her severely and made her believe that she had sinned in an unpardonable way. it was a thunderbolt for me ... i remained as if burned by it ... something dried up forever in my soul. i began to perceive an adversion for society and for its moralisms the fruit of malice when not of spiteful wicked envy. traslation by author - umberto di grazia umberto di grazia, born on 1941 at viterbo, when he started to study these phenomenous of which he was touched. left a job as director of public relations in one of the most important firm in rome. he devoted himself to this branch of study and famous lectures as doctors, psycoanallsts, and archaeologists are interest on his research. umberto di grazia shoud like to involve a lot of people in his own interest in order to give anybody the opportunity to find a different dimension in the life. it means a more balaced and interesting dimension of life. he should like to help people to look for and to find a common possibility of research that could make much more rich each of us. in having an esact idea of his own internal and psycoloclal feelings. the television and the press are both interestd theirselves on umberto di grazia, giving him the opportunity for some interviews and meetings.