Enzo Moscato. “I Can’t Tell The Story Of My Life” (“Non Posso Narrare La Mia Vita”)

Neapolitan poet and dramatist Enzo Moscato passed away in 2024 at the age of 75. Together with Annibale Ruccello and Manilio Santanelli, he came to fame in the 1980s as one of the leading exponents of what came to be known as the “New Wave of Neapolitan playwriting.” I can’t tell the story of my life, the title of Roberto Andò’s adaptation of Moscato’s autobiography, Gli anni piccoli (The Early Years), pays homage to this outstanding man of the theatre. Andò also directs, deftly exploiting the large semi-circular stage of the Piccolo Teatro’s studio venue to bring to life what is a very intimate story, but at the same time a bigger one of Naples, where Enzo Moscato was born and lived for most of his life. The play’s focus is on Moscato’s childhood and adolescence, with the middle-aged protagonist (magisterially interpreted by Lino Musello) delving into his past. Using an Italian, sometimes mixed with dialect, which is rich in imagery, this enigmatic figure conjures up the Spanish quarters in Naples in the 1950s and 60s, where he grew up. And it is here that he succeeds in bringing to the stage vivid shards of memory.

I Can’t Tell The Story Of My Life (Non Posso Narrare La Mia Vita). From Gli anni piccoli and other texts by Enzo Moscato, dramaturgy and staging Roberto Andò. Photo credits: Lia Pasqualino.

Gianni Carluccio’s set at the “Mariangela Melato” theatre studio evokes the chaos of these memories which return seemingly at random, only to disappear again, giving way to another fragment from the past. Scattered everywhere, on this large stage, are overturned chairs, old books and junk, a desk and chair downstage, where Moscato often sits to relate his story. Stage right, a piano and pianist stage, centre stage, a steep staircase, downstage, a swimming pool. As the action begins, a lonely figure walks slowly down the staircase, talking about the many saints, who abound in the churches in Naples. He evokes Saint Anthony, his father’s namesake and patron of the poor, and later the church of Santa Maria Mare, where the statue of Saint Lucia holds out her hand, offering her eyes on a plate. Moscato recites an Ave Maria prayer, triggering questions about the impact these religious experiences might have had on his later life. From time to time, in a niche, high above the stage, representing a department store, Moscato’s mother is seen dressed impeccably in a 1950s blouse and skirt, clutching a small handbag. She is talking to an invisible small boy, when a voice off announces that the boy has won a special prize, evoking other questions from the adult Moscato: “Why was I singled out to receive this award?” And “How did this event influence my adult life.” These examples point to the many difficulties which the writer encounters in attempting to talk about, and make sense of, his younger self.

I Can’t Tell The Story Of My Life (Non Posso Narrare La Mia Vita). From Gli anni piccoli and other texts by Enzo Moscato, dramaturgy and staging Roberto Andò. Photo credits: Lia Pasqualino.

As the protagonist continues his stroll through Naples, music and song play an increasingly important role. About twenty figures can be seen sitting on the upstage steps, and every now and then, one of them bursts into a popular Neapolitan song.  Moscato’s musical tastes, though, are eclectic; Lou Reed’s On the Wildside jostles for our attention alongside Elvis Presley’s Rock Around the Clock. As the latter blasts out, the large cast move downstage close to the audience, letting their hair down and jiving madly. Then, rapidly, the mood changes, as Moscato moves downstage to visit the famous Bagni Eldorado (The Eldorado swimming baths). Here he pauses, quietly watching bathers enjoying themselves, splashing around in the water, having a drink and flirting. It was here, he remarks, that in the 1960s famous artists and working-class Neapolitans used to mingle. With a touch of nostalgia, he adds that this could no longer happen today. The Naples he knew as a boy, which was chaotic, variegated and had boundless humanity, no longer exists.

I Can’t Tell The Story Of My Life (Non Posso Narrare La Mia Vita). From Gli anni piccoli and other texts by Enzo Moscato, dramaturgy and staging Roberto Andò. Photo credits: Lia Pasqualino.

In the final moments of this fascinating visit through Enzo Moscato’s Naples, the entire cast leave the steps and flock onto the stage, moving close to audience members. They are men and women, of all ages, dressed very simply, many of whom have, like us in the audience, borne witness to Moscato’s fragmented, sometimes mesmerizing account of his early life.

I Can’t Tell The Story Of My Life (Non Posso Narrare La Mia Vita). From Gli anni piccoli and other texts by Enzo Moscato, dramaturgy and staging Roberto Andò. Photo credits: Lia Pasqualino.

Non posso narrare la mia vita

from Gli anni piccoli and other texts by Enzo Moscato
dramaturgy and staging Roberto Andò
with Lino Musella, Tonino Taiuti, Flo, Lello Giulivo, Giuseppe Affinito and Vincenzo Pasquariello, Ivano Battiston, Lello Pirone, Eleonora Limongi
voices and bodies of the city: Nikita Abagnale, Mariarosaria Bozzon, Francesca Cercola, Gabriella Cerino, Nicola Conforto, Mattia Coppola, Vincenzo D’Ambrosio, Matteo Maria D’Antò, Ciro Giacco, Eleonora Fardella, Mariano Nicodemo, Maurizio Oliviero
set and lighting: Gianni Carluccio
costumes: Daniela Cernigliaro
music: Pasquale Scialò
sound: Hubert Westkemper
choreography: Luna Cenere
Production Teatro di Napoli – Teatro Nazionale