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Ludovico Einaudi — Divenire
Album: Divenire
Avg rating:
7.9

Your rating:
Total ratings: 4133









Released: 2008
Length: 6:38
Plays (last 30 days): 3
(Instrumental)
Comments (392)add comment
Ah, naysayers. His music brings me so much joy!
 yofitofu wrote:

Let's bury the negative folks who hate this song. It's utterly sublime and beautiful and inspiring.



Your definition of sublime goes against the whole story of aesthetics.
Try-hard music for naive people.
 schwarze_kunst wrote:

Beautiful and boring. 



More boring than beautiful.
Pretty music. And I mean that pejoratively. 
 CarmenBE wrote:

I was slightly depressed, this song helped my decision making: after hearing it I want to kill myself.



Every time I listen to it, it just gets worse.
Beautiful and boring. 
 CarmenBE wrote:

I was slightly depressed, this song helped my decision making: after hearing it I want to kill myself.


Can I have your stereo?
I think WonderLizard's story has the most likes of any comment on RP.
It is just like this song, very touching. 
Won’t this elevator ever reach my floor??
 njtjt wrote:


 
very sorry for the loss of your friend. Been there. I helped my best friend die in 2009 from cancer. Never quite have been the same since. Music definitely was a big part of our lives and our final moments together. 
 njtjt wrote:
this was part of the sendoff soundtrack I played for my best friend the night he died from covid this week.  I was hoping his spirit could hear (2500 miles away).  It consoled mine.

 

 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 

Let's bury the negative folks who hate this song. It's utterly sublime and beautiful and inspiring.
Another romantic minimalist composition. Nothing new
I was slightly depressed, this song helped my decision making: after hearing it I want to kill myself.
 TerrorGovernor wrote:

I read this everytime this song plays on RP and it touches me everytime.
 
There are a few songs in life that I associate most strongly with a comment from social media. This is now another. Thanks to the OP for sharing. 
 2Hawks wrote:
SO
BOR ING
 
Honestly.  Gorgeous is not boring.  Neither is sublime.  
SO
BOR ING
I have been exposed to so many musicians on RP that I never would have.  Ludo is one of my all time favorites. 
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 
With that story, you can be writing scripts for Pixar movies.
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 
If ever there was a soundtrack to a beautiful story, this is it.  
 t_ujfalusi wrote:


I rate this song an 8, then read this story and bumped it up to a 9.  (=
 
Liz, you know wazzup, and I admire what you wrote. The bumping up of a rating over in the reply of another's words, seems so very weak.  I don't rate.  But if I did, I'm certain I would stick with what I knew from the get go.
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 

I rate this song an 8, then read this story and bumped it up to a 9.  (=
This album is awesome 
Sorry. This sounds like a million other pieces of good piano music. There is nothing special happening here.
I put 10 points for the first or maybe second time
Reminds me of the Braveheart soundtrack by James Horner...
This song transports me. I have to just stop everything and listen...and dream. Beautiful, just beautiful.
I never (usually) listen to this type of music. Thank you RP!
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 

A touching story. Music is  like a covalent bond, I goes deep, deeper than we know.  
Saw Ludovico in concert last month and it was magical.
 Tomasni wrote:
Long Live                                                                                                                     Radio Paradise
My rating:                                                                                          10- G O D L I K E
 

Not quite godlike for me, but a very solid 9
Enough already!
Long Live                                                                                                                     Radio Paradise
My rating:                                                                                          10- G O D L I K E
 namp wrote:
WTF? Someones pays you to play this shit at least once a day?
 

Illuminati confirmed
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 
I read this everytime this song plays on RP and it touches me everytime.
 justin4kick wrote:

Vivaldi? It's Quattro Stagioni alright, but with way too much cheese on the pizza.
 

I had this playing on RP in the background and it slowly grabbed my attention through its emotive force. Maybe you're directly listening like a critic, instead of feeling as a naive listener allowing for original impact instead of comparisons.
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014  ...

...  and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.
 
If you're listening today, WonderLizard, know that your comment was eloquent and moving.  Hope your memories are pleasant.
The contemporary counterpoint to Ravel's Bolero: 4 chords.
 oldsaxon wrote:
This is quite lovely. I know a lot of forum regulars dislike it and for that I blame Yanni. His attempts to modernise classical music was lame beyond redemption but Einaudi makes a case here for the classics mixing well the mathematics of the Baroque with the Romantic and the end result is a wonderful sense of Vivaldi and Beethoven. It may not last as long as those classics artist's works but it certainly evokes the feeling better than most of the quasi-classical artists have done. 

 
Vivaldi? It's Quattro Stagioni alright, but with way too much cheese on the pizza.
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 I think your friend was very lucky to have experienced what he did  before  he died. Real life is so short and real passion so rare. I found it too when I moved  from the US 
to Europe . I 'm still  here 27 years later, an older and wiser man,  and  joyous to still be in the throes of the kind of emotion that Einaudi's music evokes. 

What a story... I know the feeling. I lost a friend in august this year after a struggle with cancer.
 WonderLizard wrote:
My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 
Great song, I think more like this would be great for RPs eclectic mix.
I used to play Ludo as a kid.
A touching and moving story... Music is life and life after death. 


 
WonderLizard wrote:

My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


 
 dave_porter wrote:


HE'S innumerate? 2 plays in the last 30 days - and the comment to which you're responding is over a YEAR old.

HE'S a troll??
 
While you were at it, you probably should have gigged him for labeling a question as an answer.
 radioparadise9 wrote:


Plays (last 30 days): 2

Q: Why are you so damned innumerate?
A: Because you are a troll?
 

HE'S innumerate? 2 plays in the last 30 days - and the comment to which you're responding is over a YEAR old.

HE'S a troll??
 Zoonhollis wrote:
Decent tune, but why the need to play it so damned often?
 

Plays (last 30 days): 2

Q: Why are you so damned innumerate?
A: Because you are a troll?
 GolfRomeo wrote:
Can't listen to RP for any significant lengeth of time anymore without hearing this song.  Doesn't matter how good a song is when it is played too much.

 
From this song's info: Plays (last 30 days): 1

What do you define as a significant length of time?

Sounds like one of those 2000s Bose Wave commercials is on.
 GeorgeMWoods wrote:
Classical Muzak. 

 
I do NOT agree 
Classical Muzak. 
Can't listen to RP for any significant lengeth of time anymore without hearing this song.  Doesn't matter how good a song is when it is played too much.
 clads98 wrote:
Wow, nice transition from Joni – seamless!
 
Help me out here, please - in what way was it "seamless"?
Tedious.
 clads98 wrote:
Wow, nice transition from Joni – seamless!

 
That was a beautiful segue. 
Wow, nice transition from Joni – seamless!
yes  thanks for including us .. touching tribute  {#Yes}mojcamojca77 wrote:

amazing story! Thank you for sharing.

 

 Tomasni wrote:

Thank you Ludovico Einaudi
for Divenire

For me this is  10 -Godlike



 
AMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 Far wrote:
Nice, melodic, enjoyable, but his stuff builds to a crescendo of failure to orgasm. 
 
  I doubt that inducing an orgasm was what "Ludi" had in mind when composing and recording this zippy, little ditty.
josie
Muzak......1
 WonderLizard wrote:

My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.



 
amazing story! Thank you for sharing.
 WonderLizard wrote:

My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.



 
Makes me love this piece even more....
Decent tune, but why the need to play it so damned often?
Absolutely beautiful.
 WonderLizard wrote:

My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.



 
Beautiful and sad story, thanks for sharing.  I will think of your friend whenever I hear Divenire...
 WonderLizard wrote:

My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.



 
Thank you for sharing your moving and poignant story. 
 WonderLizard wrote:

My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.



 

That is an amazing story, as sad as it is.  I'm hearing this for the first time and it sounds like a soundtrack to his last year.

Thank you so much for sharing such a heartfelt memory.


 arserocket wrote:

Its loik listenin te Chaz n Dave innit?

 
Leave it aht, john. You're 'avin a larff, intcha?
{#Notworthy}
 WonderLizard wrote:

My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.



  This song really does conjure a story such as yours.  What a great memory. 


 WonderLizard wrote:

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.



  Sorry for your loss. Thanks for sharing what this track means to you. 


My best friend took a trip to Italy in 2014. He begged me to go along with him—sort of fulfilling a promise we’d made to each other years ago—but I couldn’t swing the time. While he was there, he met a young woman, an aide to his project. She needed a father figure to mentor her, and he needed, well, someone to love. His emails were full of her. I’d seldom witnessed him so smitten. They parted friends, and stayed in contact after his return home. Then he found out he had Stage 4 small cell lung cancer—six months, tops.

I went out to see him, and we went on a guy’s jag for a few days, as was our wont—food, drink, and what have you, leaving the womenfolk at home. He was well into his second round of chemo and was a wreck. Still, every evening he spent his time emailing his Italian friend, preoccupied to the point of distraction. Finally, I said, “We need some music here,” and put on Divenire, conveniently on my iPod.

He looked up, astonished, “How did you know that’s what I wanted to hear?” I didn’t; it was a guess. Ludovico was one of the things she’d taught him.

He died the following March, and a day does not go by that I don’t miss him, my friend of fifty years, and there isn’t a time that I hear Divenire that I’m not reminded of his unlikely love for a beautiful young woman, and her love for him.


            {#Boohoo}   {#Boohoo}
{#Boohoo}                          {#Boohoo}
                  {#Meditate}

{#Boohoo}                          {#Boohoo}
           {#Boohoo}   {#Boohoo}
 Eagle25000 wrote:

Very cool...

 
Yes indeed.

I can relate as mine passed this last August.

For us it was George Winston, December.
 OlderGentleman wrote:

Thank you for sharing your story. 

 
Very cool...
Love this!
 birdiestobehad wrote:

Two stories about this album........

First heard this on RP and purchased album in early 2010 while we were planning a family trip to Italy in October 2010. Loaded on my mp3 player and bought a nice SoundMatters Speaker. Played it in the evenings and the family loved it! Fit the settings we were traveling in just right. Great memories. 

 

Second. My father started having some real health issues in 2010 related to diabetes. Lost his lower right leg and couldn't drive his beloved 1986 ASC McLaren convertible anymore. He asked if I wanted it, but I wasn't in a position financially. My wife and I took a few weeks off the next several months and helped around my parents house to put in grab bars, extra handrails at stairs, etc. so he could get around on his new prosthetic leg easier. Well when we were up in the summer of 2011 for the next round of work on the house, I talked to dad about purchasing the car, though I still didn't have much money for such a luxury. He and mom "insisted" that they sell me the car for a fair price. Toward the end of the week I couldn't get an answer on what was a fair price and when we went to the bank to notarized the signing over title, he said that they would only let me buy for one dollar! Totally shocked and after a ten minute argument/discussion, I agreed. Pulling out my wallet to make it "official", I realized I had absolutely no cash so I rummaged through my console and found four quarters. I shipped the car to NC and had it tuned up and such and it has been running great since. I took it up to visit them in early October 2012 and was able to take my dad for several rides. The time was priceless. The first ride I had Divenire playing and he thought it was great and wanted to keep listening to it. I bought it for him for Christmas that year. Unfortunately he passed this last October, but what a great memory. I always think of him when any Einaudi is played and every time I drive the car................{#Motor}

Thanks for indulging me in this little story, it was very cathartic.............



 
Thank you for sharing your story. 
It works for me.  In my mind I am deep in the Katherine Gorge in Northern AustralIs.  

Such peace beauty and majesty.  

safe journeying.   
Nice, melodic, enjoyable, but his stuff builds to a crescendo of failure to orgasm. 

Two stories about this album........

First heard this on RP and purchased album in early 2010 while we were planning a family trip to Italy in October 2010. Loaded on my mp3 player and bought a nice SoundMatters Speaker. Played it in the evenings and the family loved it! Fit the settings we were traveling in just right. Great memories. 

 

Second. My father started having some real health issues in 2010 related to diabetes. Lost his lower right leg and couldn't drive his beloved 1986 ASC McLaren convertible anymore. He asked if I wanted it, but I wasn't in a position financially. My wife and I took a few weeks off the next several months and helped around my parents house to put in grab bars, extra handrails at stairs, etc. so he could get around on his new prosthetic leg easier. Well when we were up in the summer of 2011 for the next round of work on the house, I talked to dad about purchasing the car, though I still didn't have much money for such a luxury. He and mom "insisted" that they sell me the car for a fair price. Toward the end of the week I couldn't get an answer on what was a fair price and when we went to the bank to notarized the signing over title, he said that they would only let me buy for one dollar! Totally shocked and after a ten minute argument/discussion, I agreed. Pulling out my wallet to make it "official", I realized I had absolutely no cash so I rummaged through my console and found four quarters. I shipped the car to NC and had it tuned up and such and it has been running great since. I took it up to visit them in early October 2012 and was able to take my dad for several rides. The time was priceless. The first ride I had Divenire playing and he thought it was great and wanted to keep listening to it. I bought it for him for Christmas that year. Unfortunately he passed this last October, but what a great memory. I always think of him when any Einaudi is played and every time I drive the car................{#Motor}

Thanks for indulging me in this little story, it was very cathartic.............


YAY!

More Nick, si'l vous pait, Bill and Melinda{#Bananajam} 
 chinaski wrote:
It is winter now, the overcast sky a solid steel gray, the slumbering landscape barren, the outdoors appearing as a vast black and white photograph. You are home and relaxing in peaceful silence. As you gaze out the window you are lost in thought, perhaps no thought at all.  You study this dormant monochrome landscape, taking in the absence of color so abundant other times of the year, noticing the texture on the gray bark of the trees, the stiff silence of the bushes and shrubs outside, nature is at rest now.  It is snowing, the flakes cascade in a quiet riot from the gray nothingness above, the snow dusting the monochrome landscape adding more white to the infinite colorlessness. There is nothing else to do but watch the the scene out your window. This is when you might put on some Ludovico Einaudi.

 
What fine words.{#Bananapiano}
Lovely music, lovely comment.
It is winter now, the overcast sky a solid steel gray, the slumbering landscape barren, the outdoors appearing as a vast black and white photograph. You are home and relaxing in peaceful silence. As you gaze out the window you are lost in thought, perhaps no thought at all.  You study this dormant monochrome landscape, taking in the absence of color so abundant other times of the year, noticing the texture on the gray bark of the trees, the stiff silence of the bushes and shrubs outside, nature is at rest now.  It is snowing, the flakes cascade in a quiet riot from the gray nothingness above, the snow dusting the monochrome landscape adding more white to the infinite colorlessness. There is nothing else to do but watch the the scene out your window. This is when you might put on some Ludovico Einaudi.


 sirtezza wrote:
Pseudo classical rubbish!

 
You're right.
It' s background music for places where you don' t want to hear any music.
 sirtezza wrote:
Pseudo classical rubbish!

 
oh help! i'm starting to like "pseudo classical rubbish" music as well now am i ?
{#Laughing}
I just realized that after listening to this magic tune for years on RP I didn't rate it yet. Here comes my 9, I still didn't get fedup with it!
works for me
Beautiful
I think that is what they said of Mozart  

sirtezza wrote:
Pseudo classical rubbish!
 


{#Music}
 "...Einaudi is one of just a handful of most excellent modern composers, we need to give them the room and support to craft the classical of the present and future. Thanks for playing this in the mix..."
There, fixed that for you! {#Daisy}
The Romantic Era is alive and well! 
sweet
Beautiful! I immediately bought it to listen again. Einaudi is one of just a handful of modern composers, we need to give them the room and support to craft the classical of the present and future. Thanks for playing this in the mix.
 Rotterdam wrote:
Hmmmm. I think that I am seeing some kind of pattern here. Both this song and the preceding one by Joni Mitchell make me feel bored, annoyed and peevish. Guess that I am not a very nice person. Oh well. Hey-ho.  

 
Should have gone to earsavers??
{#Clap}
Hmmmm. I think that I am seeing some kind of pattern here. Both this song and the preceding one by Joni Mitchell make me feel bored, annoyed and peevish. Guess that I am not a very nice person. Oh well. Hey-ho.  
 springof63 wrote:

LOL. Me neither.

A "bloke messing around on a piano", plus a whole load of strings, but with no vocals, no drums, no guitars, & a jolly nice repeated refrain . . .

dunno, what would you call it?

 
E-Z listening. Keyboard Yanni.
 springof63 wrote:

LOL. Me neither.

A "bloke messing around on a piano", plus a whole load of strings, but with no vocals, no drums, no guitars, & a jolly nice repeated refrain . . .

dunno, what would you call it?

 
Its loik listenin te Chaz n Dave innit?
 Hungerdunger wrote:
 I don't think a bloke messing around on a piano necessarily makes it "Classical" music.

 
LOL. Me neither.

A "bloke messing around on a piano", plus a whole load of strings, but with no vocals, no drums, no guitars, & a jolly nice repeated refrain . . .

dunno, what would you call it?


RobN wrote:
For me this conjures up one of my recurrent nightmares in which I'm wading through some foul treacly substance.

   

Proclivities wrote:

homer/treacle

 
Homer harbors a secret passion for John Tesh's treacle. Not that there's anything wrong with that. 
8 > 9 {#Good-vibes}
 springof63 wrote:
Oh help! i'm starting to like 'classical' music as well now am i ?
 
I don't think a bloke messing around on a piano necessarily makes it "Classical" music.
Oh help! i'm starting to like 'classical' music as well now am i ?

Gotta admit to liking this. Quite a lot.

Ludivico Einaudi. Has he got a sister by any chance, called
.
.
.
Helen Einaudi?
"En toen was er koffie. Douwe Egberts koffie, lekkere koffie"
 Proclivities wrote:

Is the "nadir of mawkishness" better or worse than the "apex of mawkishness"?

 
well, to be crass, the apex of a well hawked mawk delivered through a car window at 60 mph is infinitely more rewarding than than a nadired mawk which barely clears one's chisel toes. 

Err, what was the question again?


 upgal wrote:
this must be one of the most played on rp.   I swear I hear it all the time.  

 Well for here it is played a bit more than average, but most folks don't consider 3 times a month to be over-played. Though others here will disagree.
BTW, Hello from a Displaced Yooper



this must be one of the most played on rp.   I swear I hear it all the time.  
wonderful tune, evoking so many emotions. that's what music is all about.
The faster part of this song would be great as background music for a movie montage where people are working hard and figuring out mathematical formulae and stuff.
Terrific segue from Joni Mitchell, and on into Loreena McKennitt.
 Peter_Bradshaw wrote:
{#Music} .... very pleasant on the ears
 
I agree...
 oldsaxon wrote:
This is quite lovely. I know a lot of forum regulars dislike it and for that I blame Yanni. His attempts to modernise classical music was lame beyond redemption but Einaudi makes a case here for the classics mixing well the mathematics of the Baroque with the Romantic and the end result is a wonderful sense of Vivaldi and Beethoven. It may not last as long as those classics artist's works but it certainly evokes the feeling better than most of the quasi-classical artists have done. 

 
Nicely put {#Clap}. I'm not enough of a classical music culture vulture to understand all the subtleties of Einaudi's work - I just respond to the pieces emotionally, and they never fail to move me in some way. This piece really does feel like something 'becoming', coming into glorious existence, much as his piece Primavera really does evoke Spring to me. I have this album and it is really something very special. I just regret that I've not managed to attend any of this gigs at Nottingham.

I can see that for some this is lift muzak, but I find the crisp minimalism captivating.
 bluebluefrog wrote:
I picture a hawk's perspective, flying through trees and mountain tops.  Beautiful song.

 
I live in Colorado.....love your association❀
...naw, just OCD...and channeled it oh, so well...
PSD  {#Wall}
I picture a hawk's perspective, flying through trees and mountain tops.  Beautiful song.