Raul Scacchi, painter and musician

Milan june 5 1950 - Pisa june 9 2014

To the boy I never knew, to the man I met, to the eclectic artist, friend of a lifetime.


You’ve left me
the anguish of your paintings
You’ve left me
The magic of your voice
Sweet melodies
Wild discordant sarabands
You’ve left me your pension
The lovely care of our friends
You’ve left me
a kaleidoscope of memories
Moving fragments
restlessly recreating
Thousands of shared moments
You’ve left me rich
You’ve left me alone

You’re not here anymore, listening, keeping to say no; arguing or finding solutions; putting forward proposals, challenging my point of view.

Then let it go, we might as well… forget about it. And then we start talking about it again, in the wood, by the sea or dining in the basement room.

We find a compromise – not really a compromise, because we never had a doubt, not even for a moment, that this thing, or another, on the island or in Italy, in Milan or somewhere else, we never had a doubt that we would have done it in the only possible way. As best we could.