TEDx Performance and What Came After

There are moments when music pushes you forward, towards something new. And then there are moments when it gently asks you to stop, turn around, and listen.

Playing at TEDx was one of those suspended moments in time. Sitting on stage, with the classical guitar resting on my body, I felt an unusual stillness. It wasn’t just a performance—it felt like a chapter of a much deeper journey, one that had started long before that day. I wasn’t alone on that stage. Sharing it with Stefano Vivaldini transformed the experience into a dialogue: two instruments, two sensitivities, listening to each other in real time, letting the music breathe between us.

After releasing Mediterraneo, I felt a strong need to experiment and to understand myself better. I wanted to look deeper within, to give clearer shape to my dream and to the music I love. One of the most important steps in this process was dedicating myself to singing. I began taking vocal lessons, studying how to create new music through the voice—rediscovering something I had almost forgotten.

In fact, I originally picked up the guitar because I wanted to sing too. Since I was very young, my dream had always been the same: to be on stage with a microphone and a guitar.

Within a year, that dream became reality. I had the incredible opportunity to perform at the Soave Guitar Festival and at TEDx. Both experiences were deeply meaningful and filled with emotions I will always carry with me.

But when I returned home, to my studio, something was calling me back with insistence: the voice of the classical guitar. Quiet, honest, impossible to ignore. So the only thing I could do was listen.

From that moment on, my goal was clear—to return to recording guitar music and to keep releasing it without interruption. The path, however, was not simple. I struggled to reach the sound quality I had imagined, and more than once it felt impossible. Little by little, I found myself surrendering to results that didn’t satisfy me, postponing releases, waiting.

After months spent in this in-between state, I realised there was one thing I could no longer avoid: working on the room itself. So in August, I poured all my energy into my studio, investing in acoustic treatment to let the microphones capture a cleaner, more natural sound—free from unwanted reflections.

It was a long and demanding process, but an essential one. A necessary step to finally give space to the true sound of my guitar.

And now, here we are—listening again, from the beginning.