 - Calling Voices -
 03/2009 How often do we manage to listen to the cries for help that surround us? How often do we believe that our own cry for help has actually reached someone who is capable of listening? How often not? You get the feeling that we're living in a world of people incapable of hearing the voice of someone who, possibly right beside us, is crying out his needs. If it is tragic to see the needs of a single person go unheard, how terrible is it to realize that the voice of entire nations is unable to reach us? Sitting in our armchairs we watch the images of a silent film flow by. It is enough for us to look away, even for a moment, and those images, those events, will never have existed. ::: : ::: Quante volte riusciamo ad ascoltare le invocazioni di aiuto che ci circondano? Quante volte pensiamo che la nostra, di invocazione, abbia veramente raggiunto qualcuno capace di ascoltarla? Quante volte no? Si ha la sensazione di vivere in un mondo di persone incapaci di sentire la voce di chi, magari vicinissimo, urla il proprio bisogno. Se vedere inascoltate le esigenze di singole persone è un dramma, quanto terribile è accorgersi che la voce di interi popoli non riesce a raggiungerci? Seduti in poltrona guardiamo scorrere immagini di un film muto. Ci basta distrarre lo sguardo, anche per poco, quelle immagini, quegli eventi, per noi, non saranno mai esistiti. _-°O°-_ This musical piece is an internet collaboration where the music of Renato Ventura meets the vocal lines composed and interpreted by Roberto Grilli. The original music used in 'Calling Voices' was composed by Renato Ventura in 2006, but it wasn't published before. The voice of Roberto Grilli called back this music at a new life. - Joy -
 03/2008 This piece it's inspired by West African music. An attempt to leave the taste of a live performance in the air. Joy try to be a simple and enthralling music for to dance in an imaginary African night.
- Nomads -
 12/2007
Travellers are an indigenous minority who, historical sources confirm,
have been part of Irish society for centuries. Travellers long shared
history, cultural values, language (known as Gammon, Shelta, or Cant),
customs and traditions make them a self-defined group, and one which is
recognisable and distinct. Their culture and way of life, of which
nomadism is an important factor, distinguishes them from the sedentary
(settled) population. Their contribution to music and story-telling has
been of great importance to these traditions. Travellers were the link
between isolated communities in a rural society. They carried the
music, stories and news from village to village. They also kept these
traditions alive during the oppression of the British, who tried to
destroy Irish Culture.
While it is clear that Traveller have long suffered from discrimination and prejudice in Irish society, up until recently very little was known about these experiences, and Travellers are often invisible to policy and decision makers. However these gaps have begun to be closed in recent years but though legislation has been enacted to address discrimination against the Travellers, discrimination is still an issue. The Traveller community in Ireland experiences social exclusion and discrimination at all levels of society. Travellers live with the daily reality of being refused access to a range of services including shops, pubs, hairdressers and laundrettes. Systematic efforts were made to assimilate Travellers into the dominant population on the assumption that it was the best interests of everyone. In a public attitudes survey published by the governments 'Know Racism' campaign in February 2004 72% of respondents agreed that the settled community do not want members of the Traveller community living amongst them, while 48% disagreed that Traveller make a positive contribution to Irish society. Since 1999 Irish Travellers have been recognised in English law as an ethnic group and protected under the Race Relations Act. - ¡Sì, se puede! -  09/2006 April 1993 saw the death of Cesar Chavez, the union leader committed to the fight for the rights of immigrant workers from Central and South America in the United States. One of his better known and more significant mottos was, ¡Sì, se puede!, a maxim used to counter the obstacles scattered along the road to reform and justice; obstacles often justified by blind impossibility or by the fear of touching something held untouchable, possibly even by those struggling for their own rights. On 1st May 2006, A Day Without Immigrants, hundreds of thousands of ghost workers flooded into the city squares to protest against the exacerbation of the law regarding clandestine immigration (HR4337) decided by the Bush administration. One of the slogans that was used most in the protest marches in the numerous cities where these rallies were held, was in fact, ¡Sì, se puede! This music is offered as a pacifist Deguello, a gathering, the soundtrack of a march towards progress and justice: a token gesture to remember, to participate, and to stand by these people. ::: : ::: Aprile 1993, muore Cesar Chavez, leader sindacalista impegnato per i diritti dei lavoratori immigrati dal centro e sud america negli Stati Uniti. Uno dei suoi motti maggiormente conosciuti e significativi è stato ¡Sì, se puede!, una frase usata in opposizione a quegli ostacoli disseminati sul cammino delle riforme e della giustizia e giustificati da ottuse impossibilità o dai timori di toccare qualcosa ritenuta intoccabile fino a quel momento, magari proprio da chi stava lottando per i propri diritti. 1 Maggio 2006, A Day Without Immigrants, centinaia di migliaia di lavoratori fantasma scendono in piazza per protestare contro l'inasprimento delle leggi sull'immigrazione clandestina (HR4337) decise dall'amministrazione Bush. Uno degli slogan più usati nei cortei delle tante città dove si sono svolte queste manifestazioni è stato appunto ¡Sì, se puede!. Questa musica vuole essere un Deguello pacifista, una chiamata a raccolta, la colonna sonora di una marcia verso il progresso e la giustizia. Un piccolo modo per ricordare, partecipare, sentirsi vicino a queste persone. - Mother's Tears -  12/2005 Famine, war, words that mean pain, sorrow, suffering for many people. But the greatest suffering, the greatest sorrow is the sorrow of a mother who sees her son undergo the effect of these terrible words. This music is for those mothers.  - Tuareg Riders - 03/2005 It's an internet coproduction with the great talented artist Ed Drury from Portland (USA). He did the percussions programming and plays the didjeridoo, I added the synths. It's a mix of sound's and flavours, East, Middle-east, the ancient sound of the didj and the western electronic sounds. You can find the Ed Drury site at http://www.eddrury.com. - Aurora - 03/2005 An electronic new age flavour piece with a jazzy mute trumpet played by the wonderful musician Dennis Wieand from Bethlehem (PA, USA). Internet collaboration. - One Song - 01/2005 Two artists. Two minds. One Song. Metricks & Renato Ventura. We did different parts in this piece but in, my opinion, the music flowing as a unique composition, so the name One Song Metricks, great artist from Lisboa.  - Gente (People)- 2002 A song about immigration Lyrics: (English version) Tell me old man where the people are going Who have lost what they had and have nothing at all. Tell me my brother, tell me what you have seen, Where are the people with no place of their own. (Ritornello) People who flee with the fear in their eyes Of he who has seen human cruelty's size. A lost river running through dusty roads, The inferno behind, ahead the unknown. Families, broken, desperate, dispersed, Search for each other, call out in the dark. Darkness that shrouds, that fills and despoils, That the sun cannot pierce and will never dispel. People who arrive on unmarked roads, On ships that never left and may never arrive. They come from lands abused by the West, That offer nothing to who stays behind. A voyage of hope, of fear and nostalgia To reach a place where nobody wants them. Like moths they are drawn to the heart of the fire, The throwaway culture of the Western world. (Ritornello) People destroyed in the great game of life, Who had all their cards but no chips to bet with. The rules of the game were concealed from their eyes, The cards were all phoney, but not their adversaries. Their houses transformed and turned into stations, Their hallways, the streets of the city outside. Spectres, phantoms, invisible but present, They scare our society out of its wits. People who wander, people who move, Who frequently find what they don't really want. People constricted to mere survival, Does anyone know whose conscience they lie on. People betrayed, people abandoned, The unjust decisions are not of their making. People who knock on the door of the West, that doesn't reply and couldn't care less. (Ritornello) ___________________________________ ___________________________________ (Italian lyrics) Raccontami vecchio dove va la gente che ha perso tutto e che non ha più niente. Dimmi fratello, dimmi ciò che hai visto, dov'è la gente che non ha più un posto. [Rit.] Gente che fugge con negli occhi la paura di chi ha visto la misura dell'umana crudeltà. Un fiume smarrito per strade polverose, indietro c'è l'inferno avanti non si sa. Famiglie spezzate, disperse, disperate si cercano, si chiamano nell'oscurità. Oscurità che avvolge riempie e ti sconvolge che il sole non trafigge e non disperderà. Gente che arriva per strade non tracciate su navi mai partite a volte mai arrivate. Arrivano da terre sfruttate da Occidente, non offrono più niente a chi è rimasto là. Un viaggio di speranza, paura e nostalgia per giungere là dove nessuno li vorrà. Son come le falene attratte dentro il fuoco cultura usa e getta della nostra civiltà. [Rit.] Gente sconfitta nel gioco della vita, le carte le hanno avute le fiches invece no. Qualcuno gli ha nascosto le regole del gioco, le carte eran fasulle ma gli avversari no. Le case trasformate diventano stazioni, i corridoi le strade delle loro città. Spettri, fantasmi, ci sono e non li vedi, ispirano terrore a questa società. Gente che vaga, gente che si muove, che trova spesso quello che non vuole. Gente costretta alla sopravvivenza, chissà chi è che li ha sulla coscienza. Gente tradita, gente abbandonata, non è la loro la scelta sbagliata. Gente che bussa alle porte d'occidente, che non risponde, non gliene importa niente. [Rit.] (©Renato Ventura) - War - 2001 Instrumental, inspired by the 2001 Afghan war - Cenere (Ash)- 1996 A cry for a new dark age. Lyrics: (English version) Ashes, ashes, ashes we cover our heads with ashes. Ashes, ashes, ashes we blind our eyes with ashes. Ashes, ashes, ashes we dig the earth for ashes. Ashes, ashes, ashes we fill our mouths with ashes. Ashes that fly from the courtyards and houses in town, Ashes from chimneys dressed in a time-blackened gown; Insidious ashes that cover the truth up with lies, Ashes that stifle the shouts of the liberty cries. Ashes, ashes, ashes we cover our heads with ashes. Ashes, ashes, ashes we blind our eyes with ashes. Ashes, ashes, ashes we dig the earth for ashes. Ashes, ashes, ashes we fill our mouths with ashes. Ashes that come from destruction as cities explode, Ashes that come from atrocities just down the road; Cancerous ashes we pass on to those who have not, Ashes that make this reality all we have got. ___________________________________ ___________________________________ (Italian lyrics) Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Copriamoci il capo di cenere. Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Abbiamo negl'occhi la cenere. Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Prendiamo da terra la cenere. Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Riempiamoci la bocca di cenere. Cenere che esce dai cortili e dalle case di città. Cenere che esce dalle ciminiere sporche di un'età. Cenere che copre con un velo di menzogne la realtà. Cenere che soffoca ogni grido di chi chiede libertà. Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Copriamoci il capo di cenere. Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Abbiamo negli occhi la cenere. Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Prendiamo da terra la cenere. Cenere,Cenere,Cenere. Riempiamoci la bocca di cenere. Cenere che nasce dagli scoppi che distruggono città. Cenere che nasce dalle atrocità commesse un po' più in là. Cenere che inquina che poi andiamo a regalare a Chi non ha. Cenere che copre ed uniforma ogni altra realtà. (©Renato Ventura)  All the contents, the images and the lyrics of this page are © Renato Ventura - All rightss reserved
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