La Capricciosa Polka and St. Raphael's

Reminded of Joe Maggiolo by Phil's recent post, I'll clarify some words handwritten in the upper right corner of La Capricciosa Polka, which appears in Volume 1. What's there is "St. Raphael's Social Hall," and what it refers to was a practice session for Joe's accordion band, made up of about 20 or 30 of his students sometime during the late 1950s.

Yes, accordion bands were around and prospering in those days in San Rafael, and in the handwriting that is just off the page as xeroxed for the book, it notes the date was "May 5th." At the top of the right-hand corner, the piece we evidently were playing is listed: "Carnival of Venice."

Must have been something...

Facetta Nera--Folk Politics

When I found "Facetta Nera" in Ed's collection, my first thought was of an Italian version of "That's Why Darkies Were Born;" something that might be catchy but not something you'd want to feature in the repertoire--particularly, in this case, if you had to mention the title.

What I've since learned, however, is that the song title and lyrics were written at the time Italy and Mussolini decided that Ethiopia needed invading. "Black Face" is a referent for the people of that region, and the song emphasizes that the Italians would bring order and prosperity to these people. Imagine; Italians bringing order and prosperity?!

Anyway, much to my surprise, when I visited Ed back in November of 2007, a friend of his, who I'd never met and who had spent her girlhood growing up in Italy, mentioned, what else, "Facetta Nera." She was recounting her days in Italy, and her delight in singing all the "old songs" etc. Well, for her, "Facetta Nera" was a folk tune with a good melody that she remembers fondly and without any idea of its political origins.

So, when you play this tune from Volume 1, just remember it may have been something like the Italian equivalent of Cohan's "Over There!"

Ed's a genius...

After a few lessons at age eight, in San Quentin no less with a teacher who couldn't read music, Ed and his father went to San Francisco to find a more accomplished accordion maestro.

First, they visited Mr. Cagniazzi, who was stern, said he required students to transcribe their own music, and insisted on practice, practice, practice. This didn't sound too good to Ed.

So, it was on to John Pezzolo, who embraced Ed, gave him the music to El Serio, and helped him learn every note. When he played at home for his father that first week, all his dad could say was "Ed, you're a genius."

That was the beginning, and Ed's father bought him the accordion (shown in the photograph of "Ed Then"), which he plays to this day.