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Songs. Stories. Lyrics.

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GINA

(Lyrics and Music: Ilaria Crociani)

In memory of Gina Sinozich

Gina – to Gina Sinozich, Croazia-Australia,1930-2020.

The song celebrates acclaimed painter and Istrian migrant to Australia, Gina Sinozich, and is inspired by the surprising and wondrous ideas and images she crafted to depict her personal history through her art. The song is framed as a simple and delicate waltz to resonate with “Gina”'s naif style art and is also a reminiscence of her European cultural background. “Gina” reflects on the ability to overcome hardship in life. Remembering Gina Sinozich's experience is also a way to encourage people to turn to art as one of most incredible resources for self-expression and healing.

(ITALIANO)

GINA – to Gina Sinozich, Croazia-Australia, 1930-2020.

La canzone celebra l'acclamata pittrice e migrante istriana in Australia, Gina Sinozich, ed è ispirata alle idee e alle immagini sorprendenti e meravigliose che la stessa ha creato per raccontare la sua storia personale attraverso l'arte. La canzone è incorniciata da un valzer semplice e delicato, che rispecchia l'arte naif di "Gina" ed è anche una reminiscenza del suo background culturale europeo.

"Gina" riflette sulla capacità di superare le difficoltà della vita.

Ricordare l'esperienza di Gina Sinozich è anche un modo per incoraggiare le persone a rivolgersi all'arte come una delle risorse più incredibili per l'espressione di sé e la guarigione.

GINA

(Ilaria Crociani 2021)

Dedicated to Gina Sinozich

 

 

There’s an empty chair

at the table’s head.

And a long, long rank

hoping for some bread.

 

All her loved ones in the rain

crying as she leaves

for somewhere none can reach by train.

 

On that huge black ship

wine was always served.

To distract, maybe,

from the water’s edge.


 

An entire life

in three small brown bags.

Joy and sorrow in the eyes

but no turning back.

 

****

 

Once your home you’ve left

the journey never ends.

As the victim of a theft

you've only memories to defend.

 

Blinded Rosa knitting socks.

Two mates partisans,

and mothers on the Alpine walks.

The nurse with a bell.

Flowers fade in the dark.

A wife sinks in a tank.

in a jail full of Art.


 

There’s an empty chair

at the table’s head.

And an angel in the sky.

She has wrinkles 'cause she's always smiled.

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