3 M words
is a self-imposed artist residency inspired by ARIM. This is a residency in observation led by my newly born son. There are so many pieces of advice out there, and rarely we hear "just look at your child and be in tune". This year, his first year of life on Earth, I want to concentrate on his clues, his ways of experiencing this planet and be inspired. I want this residency to be in various mediums, not only music. I want to change the themes and the mediums when and how it feels appropriate to him and me. I want to be an observer, a listener.
The 3 M words are: Motherhood, Mediums and Maddalena
This is my first experience of motherhood. Our son, Ennio, was born in June 2025. This year of pregnancy was also the year I was selected to be part of cohort 7 of Mutual Mentorship for Musicians (M3). Being part of this cohort gave me many opportunities to reflect on my processes, to be in communication with a group of incredible artists, to write new music and a graphic score for their Anthology of Writings. Both the music, re·member water in collaboration with tap dancer Melissa Almaguer, and the graphic score, M words: Two Creative acts, are rooted in my experience of motherhood and pregnancy. I found this year deeply creative both bodily and intellectually and this process made me realise that, despite what the world tells women, motherhood is a deeply creative moment and change is not something to fear.
Not only music. This year I would like to experiment with different mediums including photography, writing, art and whatever I see fit…
how can this experience change me, my understanding of my artistic expression, my storytelling and ultimately my music?
"For you I must become a tree, every tree is the opposite of wandering" are words by Emmanuel Iduma part of a magnificent song by Sara Serpa.
These words helped me repair the rupture I talked about in Chapter 4. They were like a chant to me and I repeated them like a prayer in difficult moments. I love the idea of becoming a tree for someone and only recently I appreciated the second part of the phrase "every tree is the opposite of wandering". I feel like that in my new role as a mother and, if in the past I was uncomfortable with the idea of not wandering, now I'm not.
I asked myself: how can I become a tree for my son Ennio?
I created 12 collages, one for each month of his life, based on trees, their characteristics and their teachings.
I also created a track "tree human", with words from The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben, published by Greystone Books. I enjoyed using my new music set up that I developed in collaboration with my long lasting brother in music Luca Pissavini and that is opening new ways of expression for me.
The music was written many years ago, during a workshop with Sara Serpa. Only now the song has found it's place.
rupture and repair is a track accompanied by a 2.5 metres tapestry graphic score sewn between November 2025 and May 2026.
Nell’universo rotto di un grido, mi vergogno della mia rabbia (“In the broken universe of a scream, I’m ashamed of my anger”). This sentence came to me the first time I felt overwhelmed by frustration with Ennio. I was exhausted, and the intensity of my anger frightened me. I felt shame then, and I still do.
In the tapestry, the phrase appears in black fabric. I sing the letters individually rather than the words, creating a sense of rupture within myself and between Ennio and me. Each line of text is paired with a note; when the four lines meet, they form harmony, symbolising my desire for repair: within myself, with my past, and most importantly with Ennio. The colourful fabric pieces represent Ennio’s voice, our interactions, and our play.
This score raises many questions for me: how do I repair? Am I able to repair? Is rupture inevitable?
I found stitching and sewing a physical reminder of the actions required to repair, a slow process infused with patience and observation.
Below you can see the graphic score plan:
This work would have not been possible without the help of my mother-in-law Christine who is an experienced sewer and quilter.
Giving birth is such a strange process, as soon as you do such a strenuous act you are catapulted into a world of advice and tips but rarely there is time to talk and embrace the big feelings that go with it and that arise in ginormous ways. I was helped to name feelings by Denise Devenish, a magically powerful woman, who helped me give this track its title.
DJ Trouble played rupture and repair on her WFMU show, listen here.
In August I signed up to Mondays Are Free a reservoir of writing exercises by Ross Gay & Patrick Rosal and curated by Essence London & janan alexandra. Writing helped me to focus on my arising feelings and adjusting to my new life with Ennio.
Three of the poems below were written in the night while breastfeeding and one, Ruscello, was written while stepping freely barefoot on stones in a stream in Cassina Valsassina.
My perimeter walls
What did he feed me?
Kefir made with playfully stolen grains,
Humus topped with Ibrahim's za'atar,
Beetroot,
Pasta,
Bread,
Cauliflower cake with sesami seeds,
Ricotta, coffee, honey gelato.
Soft peach skins touching, maturing
White flowers leave my perimeter walls.
What do I feed you?
Carbohydrates, minerals, vitamins,
Sugar, protein, antibodies, love
You grow,
I grow,
Milk,
Frustration, my body not solely mine
And the immense guilt of knowing you know.
Ruscello
The stream is like a puzzle,
each sequence of rocks a different moving path,
each pond a resting bay,
each fall a new dynamic challenge.
Mi immergo in the flow,
I don't resist it.
Agilmente trovo le strade sui sassi,
saltello in una danza nuova e sempre in movimento.
La freschezza di queste acque mi tonifica,
Nasco nuova.
Clock time
There is no clock time,
The best time is the time with you, unticking.
La, Ti, Do
Ennio, Ennio,
calmati
Ninna nanna, ninna oh
How am I going to do this?
I haven't had a minute for my music,
ma ho fatto la doccia.
Interrupted
My bottom hurts, too much sitting.
Dai amore non c'è niente di cui avere paura.
Waaah, waaah
La, Ti, Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So,
natural minor
A moment of calm,
time to refuel: milk, music.
Ennio's entry to this world was punk. Before the birth two dear friends gave me two amulets that I wore before and during much of the delivery.
Emmerline Smy, as a rite of passage into motherhood, made a beaded necklace to protect Ennio and me. She wore one as well to accompany us through the birth and only took it off when Ennio was born.
Bruna Benedusi gave me a handmade copper spiral to echo nature and its spirals, to call upon ancestral feminine strength and, as Jung describes it, to visualise the unconscious process as moving "spiral-wise round a centre, gradually getting closer, while the characteristics of the centre grow more and more distinct."
Ennio was born the day my father passed away 11 years ago, I feel like nonno Mario was looking over us every steps of the way and I felt so much strength in me. We are looked after, what a beautiful feeling ❤️
These two lives that never crossed path on this planet will always be intertwined in this magic spiral of birth and death.
About to
How can one live the “about to” moment? I wrote this piece a couple of months ago in a workshop lead by Tara Fatehi and Pouya Ehsaei from From the Lips to the Moon at Pushkin House in London. I found it again a couple of days before going into labor and decided to create a collage out of it. It helped me deal with the anxiety of this moment and made me feel more centred, It also made me grateful for having art in my life that can come to aid me and support me when I need it most.
I created these nine cards, one for each month of pregnancy, to help me enter a positive mindset for birth and motherhood. I read them every night. I particularly love the last card on the right that included musician Charlotte Greve’s supportive words. Charlotte and I have never met and started talking on social media about motherhood in music. I have been astonished by her egoless support and the time she has put into sharing positive words with me.