Tony di Corcia from “Mina Viva lei” – Clichy Editions 2023

Clichy Editions – 2023

Tonight hell is a crowded apartment building. Whoever inhabits it longs for a love, aches for someone, waits in vain for a nod. Or, worse, he pretends to lead a normal life and in his heart harbors the ghost of a love that was never born. Identical is the refuge: the voice of Mina. Just put on one of his songs, and immediately you feel understood, incredibly described, welcomed and accepted. The conventions of time fall away, and it could be a livid winter afternoon, the kind that follows Christmas jubilation with an almost mournful silence, but it could also be a summer evening, with everyone running toward an impossible joy and you searching for an answer, a meaning, a solution. It could be 2023, but also 1980, 1973. Carmela and Rosanna return to being two girls who lock themselves in the room that saw them as children, and brood over their absent men while listening to Even a Man: He can always have a soul what you know, Mina dear, but ours are terrible. Perhaps that is why we love them. Paul sighs again for that boy who prefers women to him, one in particular, and cannot understand how he can love her since she treats him so badly. How much I would know how to love you, if only you would let me. At this point, viva lei. Marco continues to lambaste between a golden, illusory love and his very long, tired, predictable relationship. “Should I go back to my home?”: the Mina song lends itself to interpreting the question that most troubles him. For all of them, for all of them, the remedy is the same: that voice that comes like a balm, those words that sound like a portrait. For a moment she deludes them that that pain, as she sings it for them, can be endured. For the time of a song, that pain is the most vivid and hottest note of their poor love.
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They say about her

11 November 2023


Giorgio Bocca – The jukebox is too tight for Mina – ll Giorno 11.12.1960

Tonight Mina has crazy hair and a dress on which sequins shine. Pale. Slender, her eyes dilated with neurotic rage, the girl wrings her hands to overcome the disgust of strangers breathing down on her.
We are in a dance hall on the outskirts of Turin. With two thousand five hundred liras each (almost two days’ work) the young men of the neighborhood paid themselves, for one hour, for the physical presence of Italy’s most famous “screamer”; the lucky ones, now, surround her little table, under the orchestra.

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Oriana Fallaci – The siren of twenty years – The European 05.02.1961

But who, then, is this girl who in not even two years has become a kind of myth of Italians young and old, poor and rich, suckers and smart, communists and Catholics, and in one minute earns as much as a magistrate earns in a month (one hundred and fifty thousand traffic circles), in one week collects six covers of authoritative weeklies, and if you say you have never seen her sing they treat you as an ignoramus, a traitor to the fatherland, or a cretin?

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Natalia Aspesi – Here is Mina fatter more beautiful and better – La Repubblica 04.07.1978

Fifty years? It could be 30 or 90, it would be the same. Tomorrow Mina turns half a century old, and the occasion only serves to make it clear how the singer has become, in Italian custom, a symbol rather than a living person. A symbol of an Italy as good as she was, glorious and optimistic, that of the boom years with which her rise coincided; but also, for most of those over 30, a sentimental symbol in the fullest sense of the word.

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Indro Montanelli – Mina’s fragile secret – 04.02.1961

Two forces seem to sustain it, instinct and ignorance. But then it is not hard to see that it is a calculated fiction so clever that it appears to be the truth. Rome, Feb. They tell me that here in Rome, the San Remo champions who came to repeat their singing feats here have had bad luck.

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