There’s something oddly fitting about finding Giuseppe Bonaccorso in his native Italy, where classical tradition and artistic innovation have long danced an intricate waltz. The composer’s journey from a young boy crafting pottery under his sculptor father’s watchful eye to becoming one of experimental music’s most intriguing voices reads like a renaissance story for the digital age.
Even his name carries a story. “Giuseppe, the Italian version of Joseph, comes from the Hebrew יוֹסֵף, meaning ‘May God help increase,'” Bonaccorso explains with a touch of irony. “While I’ve been told it’s holy, tied to St. Joseph, I’ve always found it amusing how Jesus’s putative father vanishes from the Gospels without recognition. Poor Joseph’s unjust treatment gives the name an interesting twist – though I’m open to rental proposals if the holiness ever becomes an asset!” This playful reflection on his namesake perhaps hints at the experimental spirit that would later define his musical journey.
“When I bought that horrendous cheap classical guitar, I had no idea it would become one of the most important days of my life,” Bonaccorso recalls with a hint of amusement. That modest purchase marked the beginning of a remarkable transformation from a budding hard rock enthusiast to a sophisticated classical guitarist – though calling him just that would be like describing Leonardo da Vinci as merely a painter.
Like many young musicians, Bonaccorso started with the usual suspects – Guns N’ Roses and Iron Maiden posters probably adorned his walls. But something clicked when he first encountered classical guitar. “I felt like an electric current through my spine,” he says, describing his initial experience with the instrument that would reshape his musical destiny.
Under the guidance of certified instructors, Bonaccorso immersed himself in the works of guitar legends like Andrés Segovia, Julian Bream, and John Williams. But it was his discovery of avant-garde composers – Varèse, Cage, Stockhausen, Berio – that truly ignited his experimental spirit. “It was like a flash,” he explains. “I immediately realized this approach was the only way to express my mind.”
His artistic evolution hasn’t been confined to music alone. As a published poet, Bonaccorso brings a literary sensibility to his compositions, weaving complex narratives through both traditional and experimental forms. This multidisciplinary approach reflects his early exposure to various art forms through his father’s sculpture studio, where he learned that creativity knows no rigid boundaries.
His website (bonaccorso.eu) showcases this evolution, documenting his journey from classical foundations to electronic experimentation. Followers on X and Facebook have witnessed this transformation firsthand, while his YouTube channel offers glimpses into more of his poetry and creative process.
Now, Bonaccorso has unveiled his latest artistic statement: “Plastic Triode,” released in October 2024. Available on Spotify and Apple Music, the album serves as a masterclass in bridging classical technique with electronic innovation.
The six-track journey begins with “Luminescence,” where Bonaccorso’s precise guitar work weaves through a myriad of ethereal vocals and experimental soundscapes. The piece feels like walking through a fog-laden morning – familiar yet somehow otherworldly. “Melting Watch” follows, introducing digitally manipulated young vocals that dance around the acoustic guitar foundation like playful spirits in a baroque cathedral.
“Rabbit Hole,” the album’s six-minute centerpiece, lives up to its Lewis Carroll-inspired title. Here, Bonaccorso’s mastery of spatial audio creates an almost vertigo-inducing sense of musical free-fall. It’s the kind of track that rewards – perhaps even demands – multiple listens, each revealing new layers of complexity.
The album’s latter half opens with “Simulated Mirages,” where Bonaccorso finally unleashes percussion elements that had been conspicuously absent. The effect is like a sudden rain shower on a sunny day – unexpected but somehow perfectly timed. “Persona,” stretching past seven minutes, might be the album’s crowning achievement. “The presence of consonance followed by many dissonances helps you live the struggle of an ordinary person fighting against all his masks,” Bonaccorso explains, revealing the deeply philosophical underpinnings of his work.
The album closes with “Nucleation,” a fitting finale that weaves together clockwork sounds, mechanical rhythms, and synthesized elements. The 4:32 track creates an almost scientific atmosphere with its precise arrangement of gears, chip tunes, and robotic tones. It’s a bold choice that somehow works — and a perfect ending.
“I would like to encourage people to remain open, seek new experiences, and give not one but many chances to something they feel weird or unusual,” Bonaccorso says of his work. It’s a philosophy that seems particularly relevant in our algorithmic age, where music is often served to us in carefully calculated, familiar portions.
At its heart, “Plastic Triode” is more than an album – it’s an invitation to explore the spaces between classical and electronic, between tradition and innovation. While it may challenge listeners accustomed to more conventional fare, it rewards patience with moments of profound musical insight.
For those willing to venture beyond the familiar, Bonaccorso’s latest work offers a glimpse into what might be possible when classical training meets unbridled experimentation. It’s not always an easy listen, but then again, the most worthwhile journeys rarely are.
The album stands as testament to Bonaccorso’s artistic courage – proof that even in an age of algorithmic playlists and viral hits, there’s still room for music that asks questions instead of providing easy answers.
