Sei Movimenti ("Six Movements"), for violin, cello, flute, clarinet and piano (1990).

-Alba (Dawn)

-Nel Bosco (Into The Woods)

-Grottesco (Grotesque)

-Berceuse (Lullaby)

-Il Grido di Luce (The Cry of Light)

-Congedo (Farewell)

AUTHOR'S PRESENTATION
This piece has marked a turning-point in my personal compositional evolution. When I was still a composition student, this was certainly the most important piece I had composed, because I had placed in it all the most beautiful ideas I had discovered so far and all my preferred intuitions: I had made up what I wanted to do in music - even blending together various influences of the early 20th Century music (Messiaen above all, but also the Stravinskij of the Pastorale of the Histoire du Soldat, the first Schoenberg and Berg). It was also important as it was my first suite in different contrasting movements, a form that I have very often used afterwards. For the first time, moreover, that fairy-tale tone, that association with the world of folk tales and myths that characterized many other compositions of mine made its appearance.
Six Movements: as if they were six different pictures of an indefinite inner story, in which the various episodes are linked together only intuitively, but consequently. From a first solemn beginning ("Alba", meaning "Dawn", the birth of something solemn, great and sweet) we pass to an intimate mysterious moment ("Nel Bosco", meaning "Into the woods", where under the foliage thousands calls from unseen dark creatures can be heard, rendered by repeating different fragments as it were repeated animal cries), then to a third movement which is violent and caustic ("Grottesco", "Grotesque", that recalls the wild awkward ugly savage men of some tales, who suddenly loom up and hit you with their clubs!). After that comes the fourth movement, of sorrowful expression ("Berceuse", "Lullaby", composed while thinking of a seriously ill little child, the daughter of some friends of mine). This piece is almost completely a clearly outlined melody: an audacious choice, in times when certain extremist avant-garde supporters asserted that one might not introduce melodies in atonal music, and traditionalists, on the contrary, used to say that melody was necessary in music, but that an atonal melody was unconceivable (an odd assertion, especially if we think that, on the contrary, conceiving and creating atonal melodies is an everyday usual praxis for me!). The fifth piece, "Il Grido di Luce" ("The Cry of Light"), concludes the suite in a joyous but suffered way, recalling the joyous shrill cry of a little gypsy child running in front of his caravan in a peculiar light, in a meadow near my home. The suite ends with "Congedo" ("Farewell"), a piece that recalls medieval stylistic traits and sounds of medieval viols. The technique used tries to obtain the maximum essentiality, that is to avoid anything that was not felt as really necessary, and pays great attention to the timbre colour of the different harmonic combinations that have been employed (this, at that time, was one of the first hints of the atonal harmonic system I have now just completed, on which I have worked for about fifteen years, as one possibility of giving a common objective basis to the contemporary musical language).