In the Madonie Mountains of Sicily lives and works a true master of Sicilian craftsmanship
Fabrizio Fazio, a 37-year-old from Gangi and a long-standing producer (despite his age) of drums, is a force of nature.
Mythical origins and cultural identity
After all, Gangi, his hometown where he warmly welcomes us, took its name from a spring, Engio, which inspired the Cretans to name their colony in Sicily: Engyum. It is not known whether it was in the same place as the current Gangi, but the municipality of Fabrizio takes its name from that legendary mountain city founded by the Cretans—that is, the Minoan civilization, which, for the record, preceded the Greek Mycenaean civilization. It has now become so famous that it can rival both Minos and Gangi itself.
Hospitality and tourism revival
We meet Fazio as soon as we arrive, and he enthusiastically says, “Welcome! The mayor is waiting for us!” So, suddenly, we find ourselves in front of the mayor of the small town of Gangi. Once again, we are in the Sicilian Madonie mountains, but in this case in the highest part, the “Alte Madonie.” A small jewel in the Sicilian hinterland, where there is no shortage of culture, excellent food—the meat is famous—and mild temperatures in the hottest periods. A well-kept, clean, and very hospitable town, it is also known for selling houses at the symbolic price of one euro. “The only clause is that they must be renovated within three years,” says Mayor Giuseppe Ferrarello. Gangi was the only Sicilian municipality to be named among the “Jewels of Italy,” and has seen a well-deserved rise that has taken it from 30 beds for visitors in 2007 to 700 today.
“First citizen and second, if you don’t mind, I’ll do it!” comments Fabrizio. We say goodbye, thank them for the meeting, and set off on a meticulous tour of the town of almost six thousand inhabitants. Gangi is a maze of intricate streets, made up of sudden ups and downs, stairs, and small underground passages where the notorious bandits who operated in the area used to pass. Fabrizio shows us two of the town’s main churches, the most important of which is the mother church, dedicated to St. Nicholas of Bari. The church is beautiful and the crypt is impressive, where the bodies of a hundred mummified clergymen are on display; this is also unique due to the excellent (!) state of preservation of the heads of the deceased. A macabre detail that enriches the vast cultural and museum offerings of this small town.
The other church we visit is that of San Cataldo, patron saint of Gangi. The religious and legendary dimension is very strong, as you can immediately sense. Fabrizio recounts countless anecdotes. “If, after being carried in procession, San Cataldo is not brought back to his church, he can be found in a rough road with tall grass. I don’t know for sure if it happened, but,” he adds, “one thing is certain. Every summer, the patron saint is picked up and placed in a van to take him to the place where the procession starts. Once the saint is placed in the trunk, every year, without fail, the van’s engine won’t start. Even though it has a full tank of gas and is in perfect working order.”
La Capra Canta
After the pleasant ride, we arrive at the small drum shop, La Capra Canta. A world-class shop that ships its products literally everywhere, from California to South Korea. He has also met many famous people and supplied them with his highly regarded musical instruments, about which he makes no false modesty. “I was lucky that the mountain moved to Mohammed, and now I can sell online with my business. How does the butcher send sausage? And what about the barber, does he send scissors?” And when he talks about his art, we discover that even in this case, Fabrizio envelops it in a mythical and esoteric dimension.
Fabrizio says he creates “the voice of the drum in goatskin”–which, outside of the metaphor, means that the sound of the drum is generated from goatskin, the main element of his instruments. He adds, “We use ancient parchment that is worked once a month with the north wind. Like the menstrual cycle for women or the high tide, the moon reflects its light and the sea rises. In the same way, the drum is ready once a month. I made the last ones on August 8, and the next ones will be ready on September 7, one day earlier than the previous month.” Hydrated lime, caustic soda, and pumice stone are some of the elements he uses to treat the skins. The cymbals, on the other hand, are made from tomato cans. This is how the magic happens, but it is nothing more than hard work, often even at night.
Pride, hard work, and the future
Why Fabrizio started producing this instrument without teachers or mentors is another mystery, this time for himself. At the age of 4, there is already a photo of him holding a plastic drum, and he has always cultivated the same passion, essentially as a self-taught musician. Perhaps it was an uncle or, as he himself says, he heard the sounds of the drums in the processions from his mother’s womb. The fact is that the myth of Fabrizio is more alive than ever: UNESCO heritage and the Register of Intangible Heritage of the Sicilian Region are some of the honors he has received. Documentaries have been broadcast everywhere, several times in Italy, then on the BBC and in Japan, “even though I didn’t understand a thing,” he says jokingly.
As we come to the end of our chat, I ask him if this fame has made him proud and how it makes him feel. He becomes a little more serious in his reply. “Nothing has changed for me, in fact I work and sweat more than before. Of course, I am pleased that my work is recognized. But even if I were to die now and this were the last plate I had made, I would like to donate my workshop to the municipality of Gangi.” A very beautiful thought, albeit premature, from Fabrizio. At thirty-seven years of age, he is a source of excellence not only for Gangi, but for the whole of Sicily.