Alice De André: “I Inherited the Sardinian Malaise, I Must Live There Six Months a Year”
Alice De André doesn’t sing her grandfather’s songs. “No intention of doing so,” she stated, clarifying a frequent assumption. “I chose this title for my theatre show precisely to make that clear.” She clarified that the title is a deliberate attempt to preempt the expectation that she will perform the works of Fabrizio De André.
De André’s show, currently touring Italy and scheduled to continue through May, offers her unique perspective on the iconic singer-songwriter. “I talk about the great Faber, and I do it my way,” she explained. “With irony. When someone becomes a legend, it’s almost forbidden to laugh and joke, but my grandfather was a man who didn’t take himself too seriously. I don’t think he’d appreciate being put on a pedestal today.”
She recounted anecdotes illustrating her grandfather’s playful side, such as his early friendship with Paolo Villaggio and the resulting colorful language. “He’d swear even at four years old when he was with Villaggio, who, as a teenager, would scold him,” she said, adding that Villaggio was a close friend of her uncle, Mauro. The two later became close friends themselves, collaborating on the satirical song “Carlo Martello Returns from the Battle of Poitiers.”
De André described a tradition at her grandfather’s home in Portobello di Gallura, Sardinia, known as the “three-minute spectacle.” “It became a tradition at Portobello di Gallura, in one of the two houses my grandfather built in Sardinia. There, with my grandfather and Villaggio, you’d locate Mastroianni, Tognazzi, Marco Ferreri, Walter Chiari… it seems like an encyclopedia of Italian show business,” she said. Participants would improvise monologues, sketches, or songs, with the only rule being originality and brevity.
The island of Sardinia held a special place in Fabrizio De André’s heart, a sentiment shared by his family. “It’s a bit of a family ‘mal d’Africa’,” De André explained. Her father, Cristiano, also lives in Sardinia, and she herself spends at least six months a year there. Her partner runs a sailing school in Porto Pollo.
De André finds inspiration for her work in the Sardinian landscape. “I write the texts for my shows in Sardinia. It’s much better to do it looking at the sea than cooped up in a house in Milan,” she said. Her show, “Alice (doesn’t sing) De André,” evolved over time, with initial fragments dating back to her adolescence.
The performance is a personal exploration of her grandfather’s life and legacy, a journey she felt compelled to undertake. She is the only one of Fabrizio De André’s four children not to have known him personally, having been born just months after his death. “My mother managed to create a physical connection, his hand on her belly,” she noted.
De André’s work extends beyond performance. She runs a theatre school for young people with Asperger’s syndrome, having previously staged productions with the foundation “Un Futuro per l’Asperger.” “Theatre is therapeutic,” she said. “It provides a stimulus for those with relational difficulties. In many ways, they are more advanced than us ‘neurotypicals.’”
She emphasized that understanding her grandfather’s work is key to understanding his enduring appeal. “All the curiosities people request me and my father about can be found simply in his music,” she said. When asked about his character, she responded, “He was a Bocca di Rosa. An Amico fragile. A Suonatore Jones.”
When asked which song best represents her grandfather, she chose “Amico Fragile.” “It represents our family well – my grandfather, my father, and me. That fragility, that sense of not belonging, the search for a genuine connection that seems impossible to find today, that form of rebellion…”
De André recounted the story behind the song’s creation, explaining that it was born from a feeling of exclusion during a social gathering. “My grandfather was a guest in a living room, trying to start discussions, but no one took him seriously. They told him, ‘Just sing,’ so he left, went into the garage, and wrote that masterpiece.”
“Amico Fragile” has become an anthem for De André’s fans, frequently performed at the “Cantate Anarchiche” gatherings held annually on January 11th, the anniversary of his death. “They are beautiful, those anarchist singalongs. I go to the one in the Duomo in Milan. They are magical moments, full of young people, each bringing their instrument, their freedom.”
She expressed optimism about the continued relevance of her grandfather’s music to younger generations. “That’s his timelessness. People talk badly about young people, but these gatherings are reassuring.”
De André reflected on what her grandfather might think of modern technology, stating he wouldn’t condemn it but would find its positive aspects. “He wouldn’t oppose recent things, he always accompanied the passage of time. He would be heartbroken by other painful situations, having always given a voice to the marginalized. He sang about the extermination of Native Americans; today, he would sing about the deportation of immigrants.”