Perhaps the true story of the Dolce Vita has not been entirely written. Fifty years on, the reconstruction of events shows many gaps and surprises. In our disc we have tried to reconstruct that atmosphere with the aid of documentation which is to say the least quite extraordinary, in which there are some of the key protagonists of that unforgettable season. It begins with an interview to Renzo Cipriani, the director of the “Caffè Strega” (which together with “Rosati” was one of the first historic places to disappear) then to move on to Audrey Hepburn’s wonderful Italian (with a personal homage by Armando Trovajoli and verses recited by Riccardo Cucciolla), through to the gruff Maurizio Arena, a key street-man, first waiter then star. This Roman actor had hoped to get Marcello Mastroianni’s part, but in the end admitted that “tirava un ponentino…”, that is to say a nice mild westerly was blowing. And there was also Anita Ekberg, who the Italians called Anitona or big Anita, in Italy as of 1955 for “War and Peace”, Abbe Lane and Xavier Cugat, Tazio Secchiaroli, the king of paparazzi, “howling monkeys,” who, introducing the technique of photographing colleagues battling with personalities, apart the false photos, managed to create an industry that still today prospers. And naturally, grabbed by chance at Studio 8 in Cinecittà where the road had been rebuilt, Federico Fellini and Marcello Mastroianni, who admits: “we work in a climate of confusion and enthusiasm, very similar to the climate of the film we are making. There’s lots of floppiness in us all. A total decadence, but sweet, always living in joy.” The music is top quality, that of the protagonists of the time, that is to say those musicians, highly paid, who gave zest to the nightlife of the area, from the “Capriccio” to the “Club 84”, from the “Rupe Tarpea” to the “Pipistrello”, interviewed by Lello Bersani, a journalist but also one who lived those nights. And then Fred Buscaglione who explains the secret of his raucous voice: “Cigarettes? It’s not true that I smoke eighty a day, only fifty. Whiskies? A few less... but not that many less”. And also the incredible Marino Barreto who points out: “I write my own songs, but I’m not a singer-composer. Hold it. I’m a musician. I’m keen on that. There’s a difference.” And then there’s Franco Cerri’s guitar, the only one of the gang to go to bed early, with Enzo Jannacci on the piano, Corrado Lojacono with his most famous song, Carina, here in swing version, with nothing to envy Nicola Arigliano’s highly distinctive voice in Amorevole with Mario Bertolazzi’s orchestra. One of the great showmen of those evenings was Carlo Loffredo, the motor force behind many jazz bands, here with two jazz classics, Beale Street Blues, by the blues patriarch William Handy, and Qualcuno ha preso la mia ragazza, literal translation of Somebody Stole My Gal (among the many versions, Carlo Loffredo would seem to have been inspire by Eddie Condon’s, with his four-string guitar with a very distinctive sound). The Seconda Roman New Orleans Jazz Band directed by the Roman bass player is present also with Personalità, an accelerated cover of Lloyd Price’s famous Personality, made a hit in Italy by Caterina Valente. Miranda Martino was the eternal victim of the photographers and her boyfriend of the time, Ivano Davoli, a sort of alter ego of Mastroianni’s character in the film. But here he is in the role of outstanding singer with Mario Migliardi’s orchestra. Marcello De Martino, with the RAI Ritmi Moderni orchestra, explores Broadway, whilst the youngest of them all, Peppino Di Capri, was offered a ten year contract by the famous nightclub the “Club 84”, in Via Emilia, where he often played. (Among other things, it was indeed in this club that a rather tipsy Marlon Brando in a white polo-neck sweater inaugurated the trend of going to clubs without coat and tie, thus baptising the garment that in Italy took on the name of the film). Lastly, Bruno Martino’s orchestra, perhaps the most famous, and certainly the best paid. It is an authentic “all stars” collection, with the leader at the piano, the co-author Bruno Brighetti at the vibraphone (but at times also on the drums, harmonica, trombone and tumbe), Carlo Pes on the guitar, Luciano Ventura on bass and Ole Jorgensen on drums. A climate of euphoria that pervades the whole disk, piece after piece, interview after interview: ill humour seems to be banished, and also melancholy and sad thoughts. Could it be that this too is the secret of an unforgettable season ?