ack in July 2007 I was staying with friends in a tiny Tuscan village. It was the middle of nowhere, and then some. One night they closed the village square, the size of an Italian postage stamp, and put on a “music festival”. Being Italy, the food was superb and the wine a-plenty. The main artist was, to my amazement, an English singer/songwriter whom I’d never heard of before, Jack Savoretti. Imagine my further surprise when I heard “Hi Russ” being called from a few tables away and saw several friends from the music and radio industry who’d been flown out for the event. The game, as they say, was afoot.
That night Jack was on fire, captivating us with his vocal quality, lyrics and sheer musicianship under a cloudless, moonlit Italian sky. The moment I returned home I bought his album and have kept a watchful eye ever since. After a tricky period following a bitter row with his record company, Jack is now what they call a “Major Artist”.
But what of the human side? How does it feel to watch your son rise to stardom? Who better to tell us the story than Jack’s mother, the very elegant Ingrid Savoretti.
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