A Bouquet of Progressive Rock with Premiata Forneria Marconi in the Heart of Friuli (2017)

Arhiv Arhiv Last updated 11 June 2026

Author: Aleš Podbrežnik
Photos: Aleš Podbrežnik

Location: San Daniele del Friuli / Piazza Vittorio Emanuele / Italy
Concert date: June 23, 2017
Attendance: 500
Ticket price: €0.00 (free admission)

San Daniele Del Friuli is the prosciutto capital of Friuli. On Friday, June 23, 2017, as it does every year, the town once again threw a big day dedicated to celebrating this delicacy, which Slovenes know very well too, though they’re not exactly losing sleep over it, since they know perfectly well that the real prosciutto lives on the Slovenian Karst. Anyway, a trip to this town is worth it even from a purely opportunistic angle, since the old town sits on a hill. It’s ringed by city walls, and there’s a castle complex inside. So even if you end up there by accident, there’s plenty to see. This time, though, it was a Friday, and since this June had been pretty dismal for gigs, the news I only got in the middle of that very day was all the more welcome: the great veterans of Italian symphonic and progressive rock culture were playing there. That’s Premiata Forneria Marconi, or PFM for short, of course. Worth mentioning, too, that this Friday was one of the worst days of this June as far as daytime scorch and muggy, sticky air go.

One of the central acts of the giant wave of progressive rock that flourished, as its own distinct branch, on Italian soil throughout the seventies is, of course, still going. Alongside a handful of its contemporaries, like Le Orme (who play nearby Lignano on August 3, 2017), New Trolls, and the remnants of Goblin. In 2017 Premiata Forneria Marconi take the stage as a septet. Of the original founding members, drummer and vocalist Franz Di Cioccio is of course still on board; he founded PFM in 1970 on the ashes of the earlier band I Quelli. Bassist Patrick Djivas joined in 1974 and still keeps Cioccio company in today’s PFM. His excellence is well known to Ramazzotti too, who picked Djivas for the backing band on one of his past world tours. On lead guitar, after the retirement of the distinctive Franco Mussida, the outstanding virtuoso Marco Sfogli stepped in, while the violin (and occasionally keyboards) is still scraped by an old friend of the band, Lucio Fabbri. Fabbri played with PFM from the late seventies to the second half of the eighties, then rejoined in 2002. The new PFM sometimes show up with as many as three keyboardists (counting Fabbri’s occasional services). The two permanent keyboard spots went to two younger musicians: Alessandro Scaglione (also on Moog, Hammond and electric piano) and extra keyboardist, guitarist and lead vocalist Alberto Bravin. And so that Di Cioccio can cut loose as much as he likes during the show and slide effortlessly from the drum seat to the front-man spot, PFM have also built an extra drummer and percussionist, Roberto Gualdi, into the lineup. So the stage held two drum kits and an almost impenetrable sea of assorted keyboards.

The scene on Piazza Vittorio Emanuele was jam-packed. The stage was squeezed into a corner of the square, and a crowd of around 500 listeners had crammed in front of it, creating a real »bottleneck«, since a river of passers-by kept streaming in from behind, pushing now from the left, now from the right, against everyone who wanted to hear the show. Add to that the unbearable heat, further cranked up by the powerful stage lighting and, of course, the mass of bodies that were (like it or not) »squeezed« together in front of the stage.

But these less-than-lovely conditions for enjoying live music did nothing to dent the usual excellence and brilliance of the show PFM delivered. Over a long and extensive set that ran for a good two hours of pure playing (not counting the long stretches of chatter between songs from the ever-cheerful and »mouthy« Franz), they played most of the material from the early part of their career, and that was essential for anyone looking for technical complexity, virtuoso tightness, and the ability to sink into the bosom of a mystical atmosphere, topped off with a dash of playful, sparkling energy woven in a Mediterranean setting and seasoned with a bagful of superb improvisational moments. Those held a special place in the setlist too. So we got to enjoy extended violin escapades, dazzling snippets of electric guitar soloing, and a doubled-up drum stint from Di Cioccio and Gualdi.

PFM delighted the crowd, dominated of course by those born from 1955 down into the forties, by running through a series of tracks from their classic albums. They paid a bit more attention to the album »Photos of Ghosts« (1973), whose title track already rang out in the opening stretch of the show, with Promenade The Puzzle and Mr. 9 Till 5 keeping it company later on. From »L’isola di niente« (1974), PFM served up the superbly mystical La luna nuova right at the start, and they weighed the setlist down considerably with material from the studio debut »Storia di un minuto« (1972), playing both parts of the song Dove… quando…, which morphed (as quietly expected) into La Carrozza Di Hans, followed by Impressioni Di Settembre. From the second studio album« Per un amico« (1972), PFM played just one track (Il banchetto), and they didn’t skip »Chocolate Kings« (1975) either, with a performance of Paper Charms.

The band also took a moment to indulge in some classical music, putting their own spin on an insert from Prokofiev’s ballet Romeo and Juliet. In the second half of the show, PFM also bowed to the late Italian singer-songwriter Fabrizio De André with two of his pieces. PFM and De André collaborated on stage quite a lot in the past, hence the live albums »Fabrizio De André e PFM – In concerto« (1979) and “In concerto – Volume 2” (1980). Oh, and the band didn’t skip their own Maestro della voce (»Suonare suonare«, 1980) either, and closed the show, as expected, in furious, thunderous fashion with Celebration (from the album »Photos of Ghost«, 1973).

Throughout the show the band built a passionate sound that brimmed with spilled-over emotion, and at moments PFM conjured a genuinely orchestral sound and acted like a proper symphony orchestra, which is no surprise when you add up all the sonic curtains woven by the triple keyboards that joined in from time to time.

In short, it was an excellently seasoned show in every respect, delivered with incredible doctrine, heritage, and great knowledge, routine, and experience. And above it all reigned an exceptional feel for everything the musicians took on. Charismatic chieftain Franz Di Cioccio and crew remain great perfectionists in their musical craft, leaving nothing to chance. They approach everything they do with a hundred percent commitment and focus. That evening they put on an unforgettable show, spun from an incredible carousel of songs from the golden era of their venerable career. PFM remain a band that, through all these long years of defying trends and despite a solid forty-seven years under their belts, haven’t aged an inch, either in their hearts or on stage. That’s why catching one of their shows remains highly recommended for anyone who loves to listen to musical perfectionism, the kind that fuses complexity and musicality of composition into a unique yet incredibly pleasing conglomerate. And for true prog rock gourmets, seeing PFM live in 2017 is really a ritual of its own kind and a heartfelt duty.