Forty years ago, 2000 people lived there, today Pietrapaola, in Calabria, is home to 200 people. I was born there, the son of two Germans who ended up there, who knows how it works, I had not been there for twenty years. Where are the others? And the stories?
I began to hear everything I found in Pietrapaola: the working instruments, the poems, the karaoke singers, and the serenades. I understood that the art of life nestles in the intervals between the music, in the pauses, in the “tranquillitudine”.