The idea is commonly accepted for the so-called language of arrival. No one, in fact, casts any doubts on the need to constantly retranslate the classics in order to adapt them to the transformations that language con- tinuously undergoes. The so-called departure text, on the other hand, is usually viewed as a monument — immobile in time — marmoreal and rustproof. And yet, it too is moving in time, because the words which com- pose it are also moving semantically in time, as well as the syntactic and grammatical structures and so on.
Essentially, what is being proposed is to consider the classical or modern literary text to be translated not as an immobile rock in the sea, but as a floating platform, where the translator works on the live body of the text, but the text itself is in constant transformation, or precisely, moving in time. In this view, the aesthetic dignity of the translation appears as the fruit of a meeting between equals the author and the translator fated to cause the traditional dichotomous pairs to fall away, since it is aimed at removing all stiffness from the act of translation, by giving its product an intrinsic autonomous dignity as text.
In this way, the translator takes possession of the path of growth and germination of the text in its various phases. In this regard, a linguist may speak of the formativity of the text; while a poet may speak of sympathetic adherence, on the part of the translator, not so much to the finished text, but to the myriad of emotional cells that made it possible. Previously it had been the teaching house of the Com- panions of Jesus, and before the Convent of the Humbled, and even before the Braidense Library… By transferring this description to language, you obtain the diode effect, which is like seeing from high a heap of piled up but transparent phonetic and semantic layers.
This crisis of representation stemmed, in part, from specific aspects of the Final Solution, which deployed tactics of cruel dehumanization, the debasement of significative language, and the eradication of all subject hood and agency, not to speak of unheard-of physical hardships, slavery, and torture. When traditional literary figures are no longer appropriate as an ex- pressive strategy, what recourse does the survivor-writer have?
In this model, the living must speak for those who did not survive. It is not enough merely to tell, but the reader-listener after the fact must also be a willing interlocutor and witness, mirroring and repeating the narrative testimonial act of the survi- vor to create an infinite chain of witnessing and telling, listening and wit- nessing. By displacing the subject position away from the lyric, authoritative first person, Levi problematizes his own status as survivor, and thus, in effect, his own position in this interactive model of witnessing.
In effect, Levi establishes himself as a border figure who stands astride these two opposing zones of the moral system of Auschwitz—drowned and saved— but recognizes that it is his very identification with both survivor hood and death that warrants his occupancy of an entirely different intermediary zone. This is followed by a direct citation of vv. Works Cited Agamben, Giorgio.
Quel che resta di Auschwitz. Torino: Bollati Boringhieri, Alighieri, Dante. Charles Singleton. Princeton: Princeton University Press, Anissimov, Myriam. Paris: J. Belpoliti, Marco. Primo Levi. Milano: Mondadori, Des Pres, Terrence. The Survivor. New York: Oxford University Press, Gilman, Sander. Eco, Umberto. Experiences in Translation.
Toronto: University of Toronto Press, Eilenberg, Susan. Murfin, Ross C. Feldman, Ruth.
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Moments of Reprieve. New York: Summit Books, Torino: Einaudi, Telephone interview. Feldman, Ruth and Brian Swann, trans. Collected Poems. London; Boston: Faber and Faber, Milano: Garzanti, London: Mennard Press, Milano: Scheiwiller, Felman, Shoshana. The Juridical Unconscious: trials and traumas in the twenti- eth century. Cambridge, Mass. Fenoglio, Beppe, trans. La ballata del vecchio marinaio. Filippo Fossati. Torino: Stamperia del Borgo Po, Levi, Primo. Tuttolibri—La stampa 9 Apr. Torino: La Stampa, La notte dei Girondini. Milano: Adelphi, , Il processo. Torino: Einaudi, [,,], Lo sguardo da lontano.
Simboli naturali. Il sistema periodico. Torino: Einaudi, , I sommersi e i salvati. La via delle maschere. Rosato, Italo. Riga, n. Milano: Marcos y Marcos, Segre, Cesare. Thomson, Ian. London: Hutchinson, Notes 1. The lingua franca of the univers concentrationnaire, the Lagerjargon was a mixture of all of the national and cultural languages represented in the camp. Asked for some advice, I told the students that they were not to be disturbed by the idea that there was an original in the same sense in which a translator should not be disturbed by the suspicion that there is a Perfect Language, a reine Sprache, somewhere in the skies.
The preface cited by Anissimov on pp. It is unclear from her note whether it is taken directly from the preface or has been adapted together with another source. I am grateful to Mrs. Feldman for her generous willingness to discuss her translation of this poem with me in our phone conversation of 26 Feb. Some of the northern and southern so-called dialects are as different from standard Italian as Portuguese or Spanish, and are, like them, separate languages, Italian being a language the immi- grants had to learn in school.
That I had to learn in school. At the age of five or six, before we left our countries of birth for a foreign country, we were translating from the mother tongue into Italian, what I call our father tongue. And with it we translated ourselves from the motherland, the folk culture which was either matriarchal or a state be- tween the two, into the fatherland, la patria, a national concept and a na- tional project.
Today, because of the history we have lived through, we do not like the connotations of the word fatherland, but that is what patria trans- lates into, the root being from pater in Latin. Pater became patre in my ver- nacular, padre in Italian, father in English. Also, the nation is patriarchal in its ways. Ethno-linguists might tell us that the countries that use fatherland, different as they are among themselves, are probably even more culturally different, or were at one time, from countries whose language has them say motherland or homeland.
The Italian language and the culture that was imparted with it were used to unify the peninsula and the islands in the twentieth century, and to give all the various tribes a common tongue and a common identification. It was in fact a kind of naturalization, for in the translation, we lost some aspects of our identities and acquired others. The mother tongue had an intonation, diction and syntax that set us apart from other Italians, even people from the same general area. It not only pinpointed us to a region, but to a particular town.
We recognized each other through our speech as through a habit or dress, a costume. I grew up in San Giovanni in Fiore Province of Cosenza in the region of Calabria , and I remember coming home from school every day with news of the new tongue I was learning. Guess how we say marmitta pot in Italian? Frissura frying pan was padella, forgiaru blacksmith fabbro ferraio! And these differences in vocabulary were not ex- ceptions but the rule. We say them against our teeth. Again, when I say my dialect, my vernacular, I mean the spoken, not written tongue, of my home town.
Not my province, my region, but my hometown. Mastering Italian, the living language we had to use at school and with strangers, was the biggest challenge of my life between the ages of five and fifteen, and the beginning of what would turn out to be a long trans-lation, a life-long picaresque journey.
As long as I lived in my home- town, I was always translating. One language at school, one at home and in the neighborhood. We were expected to speak Italian with the people from out of town, translating sometimes for them if they did not understand the shopkeepers. It was only when I went away to school at the age of ten to attend a college prep school—my town did not have one at that time—that I switched to Italian for good.
Still, I enjoyed listening to the poetry recited in the mother tongue. An un- usual occurrence. People were dis- couraged and even punished for speaking the mother tongue, or rewarded, as I was, for using the Italian language correctly, and they were never asked to write in it. The vernacular is by definition unwritten. Even so, some po- ets chose to write in it. Unfortunately, they seldom found an audience out- side of their towns.
These books are collectibles. Dialect poetry, until recently, was marginalized in the Italian culture. For the reasons I mentioned. Italy was perceived to be too fragmented and there was a movement toward union. But also for other more practical reasons. When a poet writes in the Italian language, his work can be read and understood by every Italian. When his work is in his own dialect, not in ours, the rest of us will need notes or a translation into Italian.
The other huge leap in my picaresque journey was switching from Italian to English after I emigrated. Total immersion was easier in this set- ting. I lived in a culture and in a household that spoke English—the uncle and aunt with whom I lived for the first two years spoke Italian and did to me at the beginning, but ran the household and communicated with each other and their children in English. And I was fifteen and in school, at St. And school fills the whole day in this country. After a few days or a week of orientation with a girl named Roberta who knew Italian, I was on my own.
In a fog, a dark wood. My school girl French! But I did not know English and she did not Italian. French was the only language we had in common. Neither French nor Italian, however, helped me with the pronuncia- tion of English vowels, the a in cat, the o in got and i in pit being very diffi- cult. Not to my ear. At that point, no one mentioned dia- lectal variations. It was hard to lift words and phrases out the common run of the spoken language. To understand my Aunt and the older Italians, especially my land- lady when I was in college, who did not speak English and did not speak Italian, the father tongue, I had to learn the Italian-American dialect which Ferdinando Alfonsi Almanacco, has called Italese, and which is made up of English words with Italian suffixes.
And with English meanings even when the made-up word corresponds to an actual word in the Italian lan- guage. I never spoke this dialect myself, but I needed to know it. My landlady spoke a mixture of an Italian vernacular mixed with this Italian American dialect. In all of these exchanges, losses and gains. I went to see American movies, and they were no longer dubbed. Although this might seem a gain, I perceived it as a loss. I could no longer lose myself in a movie. And I was also expected to read American and English books in the original, a long time- consuming process.
What an innocent I had been abroad in my own coun- try. I had watched American movies dubbed in Italian and had asked no questions, seen no discrepancies. I never no- ticed how the lips moved. Or whether the gestures did not go with the words. What if cowboys spoke in long musical sentences instead of mono- syllables? I had never heard a cowboy speak English, neither in real life nor in a movie. How was I supposed to know that certain taciturn, reticent types went with certain landscapes? When I came to the States and told my new friends about this wonderful western I had seen, which starred Alan Ladd against the background of gorgeous mountain peaks, and they said, Shane, I did not recognize the title.
In this case too, I had not been much aware of the translation, neither of the movie nor of the title. Still, the amazing thing is that the story, and in the case of Shane, the nobil- ity of the character and the strong theme came across despite the differ- ences. I had the same experience discussing the movie Julius Caesar, which I had seen in Italian. The famous speeches and the key scenes had all come across. The mediums in this famously well-acted and produced movie had been the drama, the pictures, the force of the personalities brought to the screen by the actors, with the language, even in Italian, acquiring authority from them, aside from what the translator had been able to do, which I was not in a position to judge.
I was then the person for which translation is meant. Perhaps this is a commonplace which we sometimes forget. But, then, how could they? English has great synthetic power, and Shakespeare is master of syntactic conci- sion, a great inventor of verbs; while the forte of Italian is the strong phrase, the musical phrase.
When I was growing up I never considered translation as one version of the original. I had no idea what the differences between the two might be, the different approaches and complementary results, or that different versions might be needed for different purposes. Despite a spoken ver- nacular that deviated in major ways from Italian, which was in fact an- other language; despite the study of Latin and French, I took translations into Italian for granted just as the natives of any place take their language and mores for granted --as the only way something is said and done.
Translation, in this frame of reference, is seen as the same piece of writing with the very same words but in a different lan- guage. I did not entertain the idea that translators have to interpret what they read, and may interpret the same passage differently, or that if a word is ambiguous in one language, the same word might not be in another lan- guage. Dante chose to write his epic-length poem in the spoken tongue rather than in Latin, the literary language. And he consciously forged a national language out of his own Tuscan dialect.
A language all writers had to sub- sequently learn, regardless of their mother tongue. Alessandro Manzoni, who is given credit for developing the historical novel in the nineteenth century, and for enriching the language of prose, was a northern Italian who started with the language he had learned in school and then, he said, went to Tuscany to rinse it in the waters of the Arno. Translators not only have ways of reading first level of interpreta- tion ; they have ways of re-creating through their choices second level of interpretation character and literary persona, diction and syntax, rhythm and sound, tone.
Sometimes they have to invent what their own language does not have to come out with an equivalent. The original and the translation are both translations, and as such, approximations. Authors translate what they see and feel, the experi- ence of life into the experience of words, structures made of words, choos- ing out of huge vocabularies, and they may be more or less successful, more or less satisfied.
Regardless of how it was, how many versions this version went through, it is now fixed and the words are all a reader has. He has to try to imagine what the author saw or felt, and it is only when he has a view, that he can re-create the physical and emotional land- scapes. A translator has access to the original. For most of us, the approxi- mation that we call translation is all there is. Many of the books I read as a child were in translation. And in Italy, a great many prose writers and poets have also been gifted translators.
Sometimes, they too took for granted what they did, and so did their editors and publishers. When I started reading English Literature in college with barely a year of English—through some translation error, I started college at all of it was equally difficult for me. I had no bias in favor of modern or con- temporary works as the American students did, and I made no distinction between the English and American dialect.
They had to contend with archaic versions of English, while I read contemporary Italian translations. The strangeness I had encountered had to do with content, with elliptical political and social references rather than with terms and phrases that had become obsolete. The picaresque journey that is translation has continued throughout my life. Not only because learning involves translation; I have been profes- sionally involved with translation for many years, in my work, and as a poet.
When I was still in college, I was asked by the poet Sam Hazo, who was one of my English professors at Duquesne University, to translate a few poems of Quasimodo. I did, and that started me on my way, publish- ing them in Choice, a poetry journal edited by John Logan. But that was the beginning and the end for many years. Life intervened. I had no time write or translate when my kids were little. But when I started working, still part-time and at a research job in anthropology with a flexible schedule, my languages came into play again.
I read and translated from ethnogra- phies, some of whom were in French, Italian and Spanish. I have since rendered into English hundreds of individual poems, and I have col- lected some of my translations of modern Italian poets in three books: the poesie-racconti of Giorgio Chiesura, who spent two years in various Ger- man internment camps during WWII; the lyrics of Leonardo Sinisgalli; and most recently the work of Bartolo Cattafi, a Sicilian poet, forthcoming from Chelsea Editions.
I always translated from Italian into English. Not that the language of poetry has much to do with the spoken tongue. Still, the point is valid. Also true that I always write in English, think in English, and have done so for decades, and that I seldom have much chance to speak Italian. Thus, the challenge of reading, digging, understand- ing, of discovering another persona, of hearing another voice is missing, and this, which should make things easier, make them go faster, slows ev- erything down instead.
But I am doing it. Translating by the Numbers by John DuVal I was raised in the faith and discipline of the New Criticism, scruti- nizing, dissecting, and reassembling that exquisite monument, the poem itself. This approach was useful because it taught us to learn from the mas- ters, how they packed the maximum meaning into every word despite the requirements of meter or rhyme. It was also useful in that we learned to cherish the words of the great craftspeople of our language.
Where it failed, I believe, is in not paying due respect to the language itself and the infinite choices it offers of saying almost the same thing, with infinite slight and delightful variations and always a hint that a phrase could be better phrased. For us translators the New Critical approach is still useful in that it encourages us to study each word and each phrase of an original to learn what the original writer has done to make it so wonderfully what it is. The problem is that it directs us straight to the Slough of Despond, where we stay, sunk and moping unless Faith in the language we are translating into pulls us out.
We will not find in English the phrase that G. Belli, for instance, wrote in Romanesco, the dialect of the people of Rome, but given how slowly our minds work and how vast our language is, we can always discover another phrase like it, and then another, and if we keep looking, we may find a better one than the ones we found before. I had thought the following translation of a poem by Trilussa, another Romanesco poet, was finally and after much struggle finished when I had this down on paper: To Mimi Do you remember our first rendezvous behind the Convent House, alone together in the cloister?
Here Carlo kissed Mimi. Twenty years. I saw you once more, just as you had been, wearing a pretty lilac dress. Quindici maggio millenovecento.
Eppure, jeri I wrote, Twelve February, nineteen hundred. Here Charley kissed Mary. I think it might have been the chance of rhyming Mary whimsically with a Romanesco word in the original, jeri yesterday , which first inclined me toward the English names. Also I was fascinated by how, in this poem about the passage of time, the poet had handled words that marked off time: months and years, dates.
What difference did the month make when everybody knows that given the right weather in Rome, the noonday sun can glitter as brightly in February as in May? Trilussa had been Trilussa since he was eighteen. He even signed his name Tri. But he was born Carlo Alberto Salustri.
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For a poet who described his poetry and his personality as a series of masks, this mention of his almost-forgotten well, forgotten by me anyway! Also, as the months went by, it dawned on me that February is not May, no more than age is youth or disillusion hope. Carlo, Mimi, and the month of May too were all written back into the poem. While I was at it, I changed Rosa, who had been Rose in the English, back to her original name, but Paul, whose name in Romanesco was Pasquale, stayed Paul to rhyme with the wall on which he had carved his name. Now, I thought the translation was finished, and I submitted it, just as it appears at the beginning of this article, in a volume of translations from Trilussa for the University of Arkansas Press.
This is one of those few instances in English where what everybody says is an error and what is correct is pedantic. Paul could have been in love with Rosa in or or even in What difference does it make? I could translate by the numbers. Vistas of alternate endings opened before me. To be systematic, I began with I had scored with my first shot. I read the English to myself aloud. The present perfect tense seemed to imply that if only Paul pulled himself together, and did something, he might still come out all right.
Paul was a dead person; I was making him sound like a failure in the business world. I changed the tense. The problem was more than the tense; it was also the too active rhyming verb, done. And do would not do when I got to You might do. Carlo could address his fellow lover across the centu- ries instead of merely meditating on his fate. This was more comic than the Romanesco, but not as kind. In the original, the emotion goes outward; self pity blossoms into sym- pathy.
By ending in you rather than me, Carlo seems to be taking not only consolation, but satisfaction in knowing that someone is worse off than he is. Translating a little closer to the origi- nal might help But there were more numbers. I might try three again, varying the last line: seventeen hundred twenty-three. Four: seventeen hundred twenty-four. What am I feeling sorry for myself for? For some reason I was fond of this solution anyway. Maybe the technical flaws gave it a kind of humor in accord with the sardonic Romanesco, but nobody that I showed it to liked it.
Five: seventeen hundred twenty-five. Six: seventeen hundred twenty-six. Seven: seventeen hundred twenty-seven. But at the end of the sentence, when the sentence could have ended perfectly well without it, even sounds as if the translator stuck it there simply for the rhyme, which he did.
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Eight: seventeen hundred twenty-eight. Other abstract words, such as predicament or situa- tion or of course state either bring on other associations in conflict with the original or are too vague. Ten: seventeen hundred ten. It is late in the poem to be introducing an Arkansas accent, rhym- ing been with ten. Same as seven. Twelve: seventeen hundred twelve. Thirteen: seventeen hundred thirteen. Also, it evokes the metaphysical question of whether Paul, having died, is now experiencing Purgatory or worse, a question that has no place in this poem. I wrote more, with rhymes for fourteen, fifteen, sixteen There must be better endings, but mine get worse.
But did my language sound conversational enough throughout the poem? Ma io ero innamorato del Provenzale. Io sono passato attraverso questi cicli, e ne scrissi. Le lingue di queste poesie sono state esplorate, controllate e comparate prima di essere state tradotte Giose Rimanelli. Poesia provenzale in dialetto molisano e lingua. Cosmo Iannone Editore, Isernia La similitudine allegorica mi risporta al traduttore-esegeta. Vedi anche Annalisa Buonocore. Dialettali e Neo dialettali in Inglese. Prefazione di Cosma Siani.
Edizioni Cofine, Roma, Intercity, was published by Einaudi in Baldini wrote three theatrical mono- logues: Carta canta, Zitti tutti! There are no further allegorical, liturgical or philosophical significances to this con-credendo, with prefix? They do not accompany him up onto the stage to confront the huckster-performer wearing the shabby jacket?
After fleeing the lower levels of the theater that has flooded with water, the narrator climbs flight-of-stairs after flight-of-stairs, opens door after door, and meets a card-reader with cards all laid out on a table; is this card-reader a man or a woman? Un bel piatto? The translator wants to get this exactly right. He ex- hales. How can I explain it? He was in great pain. Each word cost him. Not a small plate. Not a huge plate. Is this an evocation of a particular line of po- etry?
His most recent collection was awarded the Campana Prize. Each poem moves towards and resists Death. His narrators also wander into anacoluthon, that is to say ending a sentence with a different structure from that with which it began. His poems employ the rhetorical techniques that form the backbone of argu- ment: indignatio memopsis oiktros, erotesis orcos threnos ara decsis diasymus aposiopesis apostrophe In the end his spine caused great pain, a tall, thin man.
Where are you? The translator read it late one night, intending to phone the next day to ask if it was possible to get a copy of the music. There was a message on the answering machine. The translator was feeding paper into a printer, catching yet more errors. Mumbling and imprecations. Cartridge out of ink.
Empty paper tray. A computer talking back: Printing Error. White stacks on floor, packages prepared for release to known addressees to reach the unknown interlocutor. The window was open in Milan. Here it is, he said. Mother of God! I, at St. This is an order! I saw you! Are you blind? Do you need glasses? I was soaked, a faucet? Damn, could he have hypnotized me too? Small Talk I had bad dreams all night, all these snakes, how did you make this coffee?
Apocalipsis Z: Los días oscuros by Manel Loureiro
I was just about do go down to see you, and so have you finished the skirt? I say that, what are they racking their brains about? He is cur- rently on the faculty at Bennington College, where he teaches Italian literature. He also works as a writer of Italian films for DVD release. The main reason is translation. The English in the translation of the novel regularly tends to- wards the very linguistic medietas Gadda takes every possible step to avoid. It also offers extensive com- mentary in the form of linear notes. The importance of the linguistic elaboration, indisputable in Gadda, are of primary concern to the translator.
Much effort is being made in the present version to preserve the diatypes lexical variety of the original, where possible. Given the impossibility of translating into another language the aura parlativa peculiar to an environment, the translator must, however, try to conserve, in some way, the heterogeneity of registers that the introduction of colloquialisms and dialects represents. This new translation is a small part of the renewed understanding of this great literary work. Synopsis In Fascist Rome the novel takes place in , the young police in- spector Francesco Ingravallo called don Ciccio for short , a detective-phi- losopher from the southern Italian region of Molise, is called on to investi- gate a jewel theft that has taken place in an apartment building at , Via Merulana.
In the building lives a couple, Remo and Liliana Balducci, friends of Ingravallo: the wife, whom Ingravallo admires for her sweetness, and with whom he is perhaps secretly in love, is of a family whose wealth has been built in large measure on speculation during the First World War. Three days after the robbery, whose investigation is so far inconclusive, Ingravallo is shocked by the news that Signora Balducci has been found murdered in her home. He rushes to the scene and takes part in the preliminary inquiry, wondering whether there is any link between the two crimes.
It also abounds indirectly, via remembered citations from others in speech from the mur- dered Liliana Balducci — an anomaly in a novel where the Signora is central, though largely silent. In all honesty, I just focus on doing my job, as above board as possible. Not a pin! Anyway just to be on the safe side, I chucked it right in this special drawer here I got for that stuff, just right as soon as I got it pried out of the setting with the pliers, without even laying a pinky on it, like.
Anyway he would rather play at dawn, according to him the most suitable moment of the day to enjoy his best sets. His djset is full of unreleased stuff. He founded Looney Moon records with a group of friends in , and he's still managing the label with dj Fog. Today Looney Moon Records is a very weel know music label with 5 killer compilations , 3 albums and lots of digital EP which bombed the dancefloors around the world. Ghost Rider rose like a ghost from seemingly out of nowhere. Taking his audience to the dark and deep end of Progressive Trance, Ghost Rider gained international popularity as soon as his first productions hit the dance floors.
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Este cerro fue testigo de multiples encuentros y celebraciones. Psytrance caught his attention as a listener,a fan and follower, and he started through the years to expand his passion by collecting his favourites tunes. His first psytrance parties was around and as an envelopment he started playing djsets and later on to experiment and produce his own sounds through technology, around His project was created after releasing his first track at Sonic Loom Music and continues to evolve by exploring the psychedelic sound.
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Slickly drawing from the best elements of a variety of musical genres — as progressive and techno — Ilai is undoubtedly one of the most exciting acts to emerged in recent years. Whether as a DJ mesmerized by his latest release or a dancer caught in the wake of his music pulsating through the speakers, the future will see countless listeners continue thrilled and spellbound by his works.
After playing with a several hard rock bands, N.
Later on he started to mix more underground grooves which are influenced by the rising italian underground psychedelic music scene. We will celebrate also the birthday of Brainiac! Per tutte le persone che volevano Il Party molesto a Padova! Vediamo di passare una bella serata! Siamo tornati ad un brodo primordiale di tentativi, che prima o poi assembleranno, forse pure casualmente, un nuovo organismo in azione.
L'orbita della Terra intorno al Sole prosegue la sua corsa, il vento fa' cadere le prime foglie, e prima che la natura si spogli completamente prima dell'inverno, vogliamo concederci l'ultimo open air della stagione! Questa nuova location ci permette di mantenere intatto il programma anche in caso di brutto tempo. Ringrazieremo chiunque ci aiuti a condividere e invitare amici, visto che manca pochissimo.
After the global success of 'Unleash The Beat', and a succession of hit tracks over the last few years, Sonic Species is now established as one of the UK's top artists. Having performed repeatedly at many of the world's leading international events, the signature Sonic Species sound is now blasting loud in all four corners of the globe. Sarah Naima grew up in an old hippi environment and extraordinary musical family, these love and sensitivity for the music came quite early in her life.
Already at the age of 6 she started playing keyboard and since then her passion for music grew steady. JUNE ' Anahata Awakening, Liguria Mountais, soon, Italy. Festival, Slovenia, Slovenia. Sundance , Open Air, Wohlen, Switzerland. Solar Light , Soon Festa della Musica, Brescia's castle, Brescia, Italy. Mind Manifest presents Blacklite Recs. Label Night! Fusion point, Central Italy, Soon, Italy. A, Barcelona, Spain. Infinity, Recerse Club, Pisa, Italy. Vibranium Alaya concept, party, Riberac , France.
Private, Open Air, Ehrendingen, Switzerland. Showtime: click here for more info. Versus Edition Vol. Bringing you 2 rooms of cutting edge electronic music from the bay and beyond! Join us and welcome as we return to EDEN. Delightful Gramp, sakura resort, yamanashi, Japan. Blacklightning 2. Paradigm, Trenchtown, Cape town, South Africa. Cuarto Menguante, Open Air, Edo. Mex, Mexico. Indoor Zession 1 , Club, Puebla, Mexico.
Traumvision 2. Official Mo.
Sorry we still under construction...
Never Winter, Florence, Florence, Italy. Supernova 2. Purple Raver. Omawari 3, Outdoor, Puebla, Mexico. Zodiac, Reset. Shanti, Traffic Live club, Roma, Italy. Route Paris , Secret , place , France. Carpe Diem, Outdoor, Pisa, Italy. Sunshine Lake Festival, tba, north italy, Italy. Sonica Festival - Ed.
Endeavour Indoor, Leon, Guanajuato, Mexico. Solar Light, Soon, Montecarotto, Italy. After Party T. Inner Frequencies Festival , Ajba, Slovenia. Inner Frequencies , Soon, Slovenia, Slovenia. Psygathering, Shine Room, Puebla, Mexico. Grazie e a presto Boom ENG For craftsmen and manufacturer there is possibility to exhibit their works and to join the market area. Hadra festival, Open air, -, France. Z, Hi-hat sendai, Sendai, Japan.
Abbiamo deciso di condividere con voi la nascita dell'associazione in questa splendida giornata Apertura ore Mostra fotografica, pittura, minerali e artigianato. Creative Mind 4, Padua, Italy. The Multiverse v. ODC, T. A, Hokkaidou, Japan. Ambitation, Theater koriyama, Fukushima, Japan. Afterchrist 6. Gain's Source , Mothership , Torino , Italy. Omawari, Open Air, Puebla, Mexico. Heterotopic Spaces : Omega Delta, C. A Kavarna , Cremona, Italy. Trilogy - Italians do it better, Tba, Padova, Italy. Omeyocan 2, Izcalli, Mexico State, Mexico. Jungle Fresh Music , T.
A, Japan. Hume sabato Happy Complex, Club, Belluno, Italy. Cirkus, Puebla, Puebla, Mexico. D Fest, Ajba, Kanal, Slovenia. Namast trip , -, -, France. Sonica Festival , Soon, Tramonti, Italy. Keep tuned for all relevant updates coming soon on this event page and the new website.
Sonica Festival.. Trancecultural, Open Air, Tepotzotlan, Mexico. Fresh, Minatitlan, Veracruz, Mexico. The Lost Island , -, -sud, France. Inner Frequencies Festival, Ajba, Slovenia. Hadra AlterVision Records, -, -, France. Cosmic Open Air , moai summer club , Chapeco , Brazil. Esperando el dia de la celebracion, TNT les da la cordial y grata bienvenida.
Good vibes a tutti voi e a presto! Creative Mind 3, Soon, Venezia, Italy. I get my most wanted eBook. My friends are so mad that they do not know how I have all the high quality ebook which they do not! Just select your click then download button, and complete an offer to start downloading the ebook. If there is a survey it only takes 5 minutes, try any survey which works for you. Con espansione online: 3. Book Descriptions: Sitemi e reti. Con espansione online: 3 is nice books to read or download to add to your book collection How it works: 1.
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