In the song "La Casa Azul", Marco Mengoni celebrates Frida Kahlo, the strength and determination of a troubled woman: discover the song and its meaning.
He is about to end up run over, his mother saves him"Can beauty carry us away, if art is a lie that tells the truth?" He sings Marco Mengoni in some verses de La Casa Azul, one of the songs contained in his latest record, Atlantico. This is not just any song, but it is the way in which Mengoni has chosen to celebrate the story of a nonconformist, free, rebellious woman, who has not become a victim of her own petty pains, but has been able to give them the shape of the eternal. : Frida Kahlo.
It is into art that Kahlo transformed her torment and Marco Mengoni, in La Casa Azul, was not only able to tell her story, but was able to do something more: he has not betrayed her. He did not betray his experience, the chiaroscuro of his personality, the visceral and poignant beauty of his art, his spirit, his strength. Nor was her frailty, because Frida was also weak, fallible, carnal. She was a passionate, multifaceted, complicated woman.
Index
Casa Azul, a hymn to beauty
He hasn't betrayed her, I said. Indeed, La Casa Azul is a innovative: the story of pain is not an end in itself, it is not torment that dominates, nor is it anger or resentment. It is a song that celebrates the strength, determination, courage of a woman who has found, in art, the way not to escape her sorrows, but to welcome them and express them through painting; it is through her talent that Frida has been able to rebel against a dull pain, which could have invalidated not only her body, but also her spirit, her tenacity, her gaze on the world. So the rhythm of La Casa Azul is pressing and enthralling, the text is aware and sharp, because the verses, which are deep and angular, make the story tight. Casa Azul is a caress and a slap, the sound and words touch and overwhelm, the hands clap in time and the eyes surround themselves with a line of tears.
The Latin rhythm, the text and the precious intervention of Adriano Celentano they tell with sensitivity and awareness the story of a revolutionary artist and the most important places in her life. It is no coincidence, therefore, that the title of the piece refers to the Casa Azul, in Mexico, where Frida lived until the end of her days and which, in 1958, four years after her death, became the current Frida Kahlo Museum. Inside, you can visit the house in its original layout and discover some of its most important works, such as Viva La Vida (1954) Marxism will give health to the sick (1954) o Portrait of my father (1951). A title not by chance, because the blue house, where the artist lived, between ups and downs, with her husband Diego Rivera, fully represents his inner world, the place where it all began, developed and ended.
Speaking of the marriage with Rivera, La Casa Azul tells of the all-encompassing and destructive feeling that bound Frida to her husband, a love that has gone through more than two decades, but which has forced her through many moments of suffering: "I have drawn a love that seems real / A puddle deluded to be heaven / And a thin tear that cannot be seen / A necklace of thorns the road made together ». The pain for theabsence of a child (Frida was unable to carry out three pregnancies), the escape from Mexico due to harsh repression against those who were part of the Communist Party, outlawed, the years in New York, the love for other men and women ("Attempting another destiny that goes further"), death: La Casa Azul delicately covers the entire history of Frida, cites her paintings, which done I am his biography, and returns a clear and powerful painting, original and respectful. The piece, born from the pen of Mengoni e Fabio Ilacqua, is the portrait of an unconventional woman, a symbol of a feminism ante litteram and freedom. And, above all, it wants to be an invitation to know transform pain into what brings us closest to good, to the beauty, to the best part of us: Frida has made her profession as an artist out of her torment, every pain suffered is a work that has even overcome death and has remained over time.
As I said at the beginning, one of the most emblematic lines of La Casa Azul is "Can beauty carry us away, if art is a lie that tells the truth?". Frida Kahlo has already answered this question, a few days before she died of a pulmonary embolism, at the age of forty-seven. After she had her right leg amputated, due to gangrene, she said the artist "Feet, what do I need if I have wings to fly?". The truth is all here: beauty has saved her from any pain, even the most atrocious, and art, which by its nature is not true but likely, has granted her a shelter, a hope, a other life. He allowed her to overcome death and stay forever.
Text
Here is the text of La Casa Azul:
The world is at my fingertips
Closed between a bed, a mirror, a fleeting joy
Cosa hai dipinto para mi chiquita
I silently mixed colors and tears
And it is a design that is already confusing
The shadow of a sign that hides me but
I feel the night kissing my feet
Even if you don't see it
I knew the noise it makes
Love, hate, fight viva la vida
Out there Mexico was screaming blasphemies and fairy tales
Inside the dust the blood of the bullfight
The rook shakes the sword from his shoulder blades
Rose of the soul enclosed in an armor
How is it that the sun smiles in fear?
Can beauty carry us away if art is a lie
What is the truth?
I drew a love that feels real
A puddle deluded to be heaven
And a fine tear that cannot be seen
A necklace of thorns made the way together
And my back burn the blue house
The flesh, the blood, the veins of my war
And desert the path closed in my hand
Attempt another destiny that goes further
And on each canvas an imprint of my fingers
In my mouth words that are not said
The sweat of the climb down my back
You would have said such a ridiculous fate
Like a star that shines off already
How much beauty that comes and will pass
I feel the night touching my feet even though you don't see it
If you shut up you hear it, shh
Here's the noise it makes
I drew a love that feels real
A puddle deluded that it is heaven
And a fine tear that cannot be seen
A necklace of thorns made the way together
The flowers, the absent son
The red bed, the skull in front
The lucky girlfriend, the broken dream
The beautiful girl and my destiny
Death
The flowers, the absent son
The red bed, the skull in front
The lucky girlfriend, the broken dream
The beautiful girl and my destiny
Death
I drew a love that feels real
A puddle deluded that it is heaven
And a fine tear that cannot be seen
A necklace of thorns made the way together
And my back burn the blue house
The flesh the blood the veins of my war
And desert the path closed in my hand
Attempt another destiny that goes further
The flowers, the absent son
The red bed, the skull in front
The lucky girlfriend, the broken dream
The beautiful girl and my destiny
Death
The flowers, the absent son
The red bed, the skull in front
The lucky girlfriend, the broken dream
The beautiful girl and my destiny
Death
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