On contemporary art

I recently listened to a piece by Fausto Romitelli called “Index of Metal,” and honestly, it was hard to connect with. It's one of those highly conceptual, contemporary works that feel more like an academic experiment than a piece of music meant to be enjoyed. The complexity and chaos seem to create this barrier between the art and the audience. I get the sense it's meant to challenge perceptions, but if no one can relate to it, what's the point?

That's where I start thinking about the music from the past—especially the classical orchestra and choral compositions from the 18th to 20th century. There was such attention to craft and structure—but also to emotion. You could feel the humanity in those pieces. The melody might be easy to follow, maybe even hum along with, but the underlying composition was incredibly sophisticated. Whether it was polyphonic or monophonic, the layering of voices and instruments carried so much depth.

Even pop music from the last century had that balance. The lyrics were meaningful, the melodies catchy yet layered with careful arrangement. It wasn't just about producing something quickly—it was about creating something that would last, something people would carry with them.

It feels like we've lost that today. Ever since the financial crisis in 2008, and even more after COVID-19, the world seems to have sped up uncontrollably. Everything's about instant gratification, driven by algorithms that push more and more consumption. We're buying things we don't need, chasing trends that vanish in seconds, and it's like we've forgotten how to slow down and appreciate what's in front of us.

It's not just about art—it's our whole way of life. We've become so shallow, so impatient, that we're missing the richness of what's around us. We're taking our environment for granted, not just in the literal sense, but culturally too.

And when I think about the art and music we once cherished, it just underscores that contrast. There was a time when people cared about telling a story through their craft, about reaching out and connecting with others in the community. Now, it feels like everything's about producing more, faster, without much thought to what it means in the long run.

I guess that's why I keep coming back to those older works—they remind me of a time when we weren't in such a hurry, when we took the time to create—and to really appreciate—something meaningful.