THEIn short, the swan is beautiful and elegant, and faithfully monogamous, but it is also an animal that has in its game bag a whole series of passages that are not exactly very happy, at least at an iconographic level, someone go and explain it to those who prepare the rooms in Mauritian resorts, and perhaps you can also explain it in the Levante, which has chosen a swan as the animal symbol of its return, one might say, if it did not sound extremely ambiguous, of its rebirth, future Opera. Indeed, it is with a swan that Levante poses on the cover of his new work, a cover inspired by a verse by Emily Dickinson, “hope is that feathered thing”, and since we are talking about rebirth and hope, here is the swan, animal that in any case there, against that green background, in her arms, very blonde in this new phase of her life, fits really well. How well she seems to be, on a compositional, interpretative and even human level, I say this because I met her in Sanremo, where she brought what I consider the most beautiful text among the twenty-eight presented in the competition, Vivo, and I found it shiny , I don’t know how else to define it, shiny for this aura of positivity that it emanates, but also for a sort of human, enveloping warmth, like what I would associate with the first rays of sun that arrive in spring, I live in the north, when the days get longer and inside the house it’s even colder than outside, a sort of hymn to smiles. Future work is a work that must have cost her effort, in the writing phase, because the birth of her daughter Alma, of this, also of this, Vivo speaks, brought her so much joy but also a change, physical and psychological, difficult management, but also freed it from a series of frills, lighter even in the moment of singing a pain, more fully rock in the moment of singing with the body and not only with the heart or with the mind, a writing that has been refined, over time, it is difficult to surpass the previous Magmamemoria on paper, I miss you, Mater, Invincible and Iride Blu and liquid heart, together with Vivo, the highest points. A writing that worked in a Carverian way on removing, as of who knows what is necessary, essential, the blue veins of the voice to support melodic lines that caress, sometimes slap, supported by angular rhythms, I am thinking of It hurts here, quality pop, author’s. A melee, as elegant as happens in ballets, at times a white swan at times a black swan, a restlessness not too different from that brought to the big screen by Natalie Portman under the care of Aronofsky which, however, is constantly illuminated, with a loving and consolatory to cover the bumps that could hurt us or to put plasters when the damage has been done. Alive, then, makes a separate speech, a speech that I have already addressed elsewhere, told in the days of Sanremo. A passage that deals with postpartum, Alma Futura to tell the other side of the Moon, the one that is actually clearly visible to everyone, well lit, and in dealing with it it highlights aspects that, here in Italy, no one has told before her. Not only the depression that often assails the new mother, but also the difficulties of centering herself in this new role, a new role that often tends to eliminate all other nuances, denying the role of woman right from the start, a mother is more than a woman in the imagination, the body struggling to center itself again, eroticism, not just that linked to sex, to escape from the radar. An important piece, this one, one of those which will then outlast the years remaining in the slender history of Italian music, I am convinced, because there have always been very few women who sing bodies in Italy, and because women who sing their own feeling disoriented inside one’s body, even in moments that for everyone are only identifiable as completeness and happiness, is even rarer. Future work, in its essentiality, just over half an hour of work, sounds that are never epic, even when the pace is faster, the voice takes center stage, it is an important work, in Levante’s career, in the broader framework of the song of author, and more generally in our pop, a swan song without negative omens, May Tchaikovsky rest in peace.