It’s not easy to come back after three years. It’s not easy to come back at all with something new, especially if you’ve already made a name for yourself with what you did before. Ariete—whose real name is Arianna Del Giaccio—knows this all too well, and she’s decided to make a comeback. Not just with new music, but by bringing her true self—authentic and consistent with the path she’s taken—along with the years she’s lived and the maturity she’s gained. This is true both in her lyrics and her music, but above all in her life. And that’s what matters most.
The Roman artist’s album is titled “Tutti tornano a casa” (Everyone Comes Home), and she set out to transform her unreleased tracks into a love diary—or rather, a diary of many loves. But it’s also a collection built not so much on collaborations as on human relationships. There are many of them, but they’re all spot-on. From “Che bella vita”—the track that paved the way for the album, recorded with Angelina Mango in 2023 and now finally released—to “Mano Nella Mano” with her Roman friend Fulminacci, “Casa Mia / Casa Tua” with Tredici Pietro, and “Quando La Luna Si Accende” with the first verse on the right.
We went to visit her, just to have a little chat about her latest work, to find out more about what has been an “evolution” rather than a “revolution”—to quote one of the songs on the album.
Evolution is the most tangible thing that’s happened in my life—in the way I approach music, in the way I approach relaxation—simply put, in taking a step back from the spotlight—but really, in every aspect of my life. I didn’t use Instagram or social media—maybe TikTok to post a couple of silly things, but nothing related to music or teasers. And then, for someone like me, who’s always spoiled everything—I used to spend hours going live—let’s just say it took me a while to say: okay, no, I’ve stepped back from these situations, at least for a little while—though not for a very short time, I’d say—especially given how things are going.
There’s been a 360-degree evolution—right in the way I experience life, music, the expectations surrounding projects, tours, and numbers, and what I need to give to myself rather than to others. The concept of revolution is that, in fact, I think it’s a theme that aligns very closely with my project, because I’ve always been a very outspoken artist—I’ve never shied away from expressing my political opinions, whether it’s going to a pro-Palestine concert to sing there or performing at Pride. So, obviously, I try to bring about that revolution little by little through my small daily steps—in everyday life. Plus, I come from a family that’s very firmly on the left.
My dad, however, is involved in organizations for families with transgender children, rather than just having a profile picture that says “I support the Zan bill.” He’s a very well-educated man who, fortunately, has taught me so much about how to bring about change day by day. He’s the biggest fan in the world of Pannella—Marco Pannella—who actually serves as my guide for taking a stand every time. And so, with “Rivoluzione”—obviously, the song itself is a love song—I use that word as a hook to perhaps spark a conversation, right? With the people who ask me about it and with my project.
I’d like to come back to this idea of being radical—maybe like Pannella. You’re very radical, and in a way, this album is too. It’s a love album—just a little bit. So, isn’t it possible that, from that perspective, this album really is a “Revolution”? In the sense that you seem much freer in exploring all the nuances of love.
So true. Yes, I have to say, so true. When I took a break, I had the good fortune—and the misfortune—of ending an important relationship that was, in any case, difficult—even toxic; let’s just say it didn’t end on the best of terms. And then, well, a few months later I met someone who gave me—maybe for the first time ever—the inspiration to set every stage of our relationship to music. Now this person and I are together, but to give you an example, in “Capricci,” which is the second track on the album, that person and I weren’t together yet.
In fact, I’d been in Milan for a month, she’d stayed in Rome, and our future was a bit uncertain. I’d just started a very in-depth course of therapy, so it’s no coincidence that I say, “I’m afraid of understanding you—or perhaps of drawing you into my psychoanalyzed mind.” Because I specifically tried to focus the fear of starting a new relationship and falling in love again—especially after something traumatic—much more on myself than on the other person. So it’s much less about “I want to give you everything, I love you so much, I’ll wait for you as long as you want,” and more about “how wonderful—yet at the same time harmful to me—it is to enter into a new relationship.”
Maybe, on the other hand, “Rivoluzione” is a song I wrote when my relationship was already well underway—since we’ve been together for over a year—so I felt free to say: it’s a beautiful thing, and I’m glad it happened to me. As for the songs that are a bit more, let’s say, sad—but I don’t want to say that. Because in the end, the only one I really feel is very sad and profound is “Tachicardia”—which, however, is about something else entirely; it’s about grief. On the other hand, in the songs that tell the story of my toxic relationship, I tried to be as positive as possible.
“My Mouth, Your Mouth” actually comes to mind—it’s a song where, yes, the relationship is over, but I’m still looking for that bittersweet feeling at the end. I say, “My mouth, your mouth met in the same place”—you leave me with a fond memory. In other words, you go back there at least to give me a fond memory of where our mouths met. So let’s say I’ve tried to approach love—and the end of love—in a much more present way, precisely as a person.
I jotted down a few words I read on the tour poster: “Well-connected, psychoanalyzed, outgoing smoker, travels often.” But is there any definition or adjective missing from this description that would perfectly capture who you are?
Oh well, obviously we also wanted to have a little fun with the idea that I’m looking for roommates, so when you post the ad… we even included an Easter egg where it says “psychoanalyzed,” and then it’s mentioned several times in the song. But if I had to pick one that’s totally sincere, I’d definitely say “generous”—and these days, even a little bored. There are feelings I hadn’t realized I could experience before, maybe when everything was moving so fast. And, well, it sounds bad to say this, but it’s true that when you’re caught up in the whirlwind of things, you actually feel a little omnipotent.
You say: “Oh well, we’re sailing along—everything’s moving fast, everything’s going great—debut albums, tours, Sanremo, another tour.” It was a very productive period, but then, when I took a step back, I realized that some of those emotions—which maybe all this chaos was crushing—had come pouring out, causing me to step away from the spotlight. So I also discovered that I’m quite a worrier. These days, I’d say I’m even more of a loner than usual, but still an extrovert.
But I think you hide this paranoia well; to me, you seem more aware of your project and the tour.
I feel like I’m a very level-headed person, and most of the time I try to be honest with myself, too. I have to say that in this line of work—the music business—there’s a bit of a divide between artists who just do what they have to do and go with the flow, totally freestyle, without perhaps thinking about the smallest details. And then there are the artists who are also a bit like managers. So maybe they have a slightly more business-oriented mindset, almost. In any case, as I said, I’m a very meticulous and very aware person. I’d also love to be a talent scout or a manager. I really love the music business in general; I love the idea of working with music in every aspect. Yes, I love being on stage, but what I see happening behind the scenes is also something that moves me. That said, I’m approaching this tour, as I said, with awareness—and certainly with some fear.
But it’s not so much about the numbers as it is about me personally—my body back on stage for an hour and a half, two hours—I still don’t know exactly how long the concert will last, but since I’m someone who talks a lot, it’ll surely be an hour and a half of songs and half an hour of nonsense, as usual. I have to say that, yeah, the question I’ve often asked myself—let’s say, as I’m starting over—is something like: before, I was in a rush; I just did it, without realizing that I might be on stage at a sports arena rather than the Verona Arena. Now, since I’m starting over slowly, the genuine question I ask myself—and I’m asking it publicly, too—is: Damn, I wonder if I’ve still got it in me, right? Because, anyway, I’ve led such a normal life these past two years, so much behind the scenes: you go to the studio, grab a coffee, smoke a few cigarettes, go to lunch—you know? I’m approaching this comeback feeling happy but doubtful.
But I’m not unsure about the audience, the songs, or the live performance. I’m just unsure when I look in the mirror and say: Ari, we’re getting back on this train—we’re there, we’re ready. Then, when it’s time to talk, just go about the day like that—it’s great. But when the spotlight gets too intense… I think back to the Arena di Verona with Angelina—I was totally freaking out. And I’ve sung at the Arena di Verona, I don’t know, like eight times. And I’ve never had that feeling like, “Oh my God, I’m going on stage, I’m anxious.” This time I did. I grabbed Nina (Angelina Mango, ed.) and told her, “Nina, my love, hold my hand because I don’t know if I can do this.” I have to say, she really calmed me down, yes. And before I started singing—the song doesn’t have a real intro—as soon as the click track started, she looked at me, took a deep breath, and off we went. Then, looking into her eyes the whole time, let’s say, was a big help.
Speaking of Angelina and “Tutti tornano a casa,” you have a lot of guest appearances on the album, but they all seem like perfect fits to me. They don’t just seem like collaborations—they’re almost like your ideal apartment building, with people you could live alongside.
I’ve said this a thousand times about guest appearances. I’m especially selective when it comes to my own projects. But it’s not because no one ever comes to you and says, “Let’s do a track for your album.” Obviously, it’s always, “Do a track for my album.” And when it comes to contributing tracks to other people’s albums, I’ve collaborated with a lot of people: from Nerissima Serpe and Villabanks to Tiziano Ferro and Gianni Morandi, and of course Rkomi and Tananai. But on my own projects, on the other hand, if we count them, we have Psicologi; I also collaborated with Marco on the first EP and Alessio on the second. “Specchio” features Madame and Franco (126, ed.). “La Notte” features Chiello and that’s it. This is also to help you understand just how much I care about the artist. I mean, I don’t like those things that are planned out in advance, and on this album I also had more time to talk to people, to really engage with them. Because usually, when you have to finalize a collaboration and the album’s writing process takes about a year—obviously—you end up having to rush things.
But since I’ve had three years, I’ve slowly built everything up myself. Angelina was already there; I ran into him often at the first venue, and I ran into Fulminacci often too—first and foremost as a friend. Pietro—even though I didn’t see him that often—is someone I’m very close to, whom I care about deeply; we’ve spent many more evenings out together than we have in the studio. It’s the same with Filippo (Fulminacci, ed.),—we’ve had many more dinners, card games, and trips than days in the studio. But I’m actually happy because, after all, an album with guest appearances is definitely an album—I don’t want to say it’s more interesting, but it certainly stands out a bit more. Still, you have to be good at making it interesting.
I don’t think I have random titles, so to speak. They all make sense. There’s “Prima stanza a destra,” which is maybe the slightly trendier one, but it was definitely a choice we both made. By the way, for all the tracks, I actually met up with the people in person at the studio. In the past, I’ve sent verses over the internet, or other people have sent them to me. This time, though, we actually had the time—which is what really serves as our guide and master—to do everything very calmly.
So let’s sum it up this way: in the age of artificial intelligence, *Aries* essentially argues that we need time and human connections. Do you like that title?
I like it—perfect.
[📸 Courtesy of Words For You]
