U' matnét
A look at a rediscovered Materan tradition, not lost.
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4 min read
In the carnivalesque Materan tradition, when a gentleman from a wealthy family killed a pig, the musicians of the city would go to his house asking to be offered some food and wine. In exchange, they would play for the master and mistress of the house from evening until morning. For this reason, the tradition is called “matinata”.
The matinata has few but precise rules: the musicians present themselves at the master’s house asking to be welcomed by weaving the praises of the master; if he refuses to welcome the musicians, the song changes and the musicians mock the master of the house.
After this tradition was almost lost, today the matinatas have been revisited in a modern key by various cultural associations and folk groups present in the territory.
In contrast to the past, today a matinata is no longer organized on the occasion of a pig killing, since there are now very few breeders, but a matinata is organized with the complicity of one or more members of the family of the master or mistress of the house. Also, rarely does a modern matinata really last until the next morning, as modern rhythms no longer allow it.
Without further digressions, I leave you with the text of the typical matinata song, along with a photographic account of the matinatas I experienced this year.
To read the translation of the dialect text, click the button on the right of the text. To return to the original text, click the button on the left.
La Matenete
Tok, tok, tok
Uè Ggiuònne!
Ou, ci ja?
Quando fidel ti faccio senza difetto
scurdàtime de te scurdàte affetto
Lauda candande chi lli belli soni
chi nna bell-indenziòne i cchiminzète
che ll-aiute de Ddije ni sim-arriváte
saluta a quònda ggende simi truváte
Chimbá Giuonne lu patróne mije
stòk-alla jròzza de lu ssignurije
jète u Gruppe Folk “Matáre” ca te vène a rrivirije
d-auròzzie da mèche e da tutte la cumbagnije
I ssùna sùna lu strimende mije
tuccheme le corde e ffame risindì
jè mmágghie la catòrre e nnòne u vijiline
lu vògghi laudèi-a Bbìasine
De Bbìasine nan m-u scórdia maia
bell-e llu nome me l-ègghie mbarète
purte la palme de la primavère
quònne camine da jund-a Matère
Sò stète priggiunire e ssò tturnète
sò stète priggiunire alla Ggermónie
alla vinite uè de lu Polòcche
u uagnedde ri-cchiète tutte c-u popire m-bròzze
Tègne nu ciardine tutte avvantaggète
tutte le frutta re tègne chiandète
egghie chiandète nu quòdre de cappuccia
lu vògghie laudèje a Onofriucce
De Onofriucce nan m-u scorde màie
bèll-e lu nome me l-egghi-mbarète
e tutt-u bbène ca te vogghje jeje
ca a stènne u pite fingh-i crèmatine
N-egghie dumàte di sturn-i di cavalle
e ttu uagnèdde nan de vu dumèje
e cci t-arruvjie a mmátte vrigghj-i vrigghiòne
senza spirone t-eggh-a ffè dumèja
Chimmà Marija la patròna mija
stok-ella jrazzia de lu ssignurì
pe ppiaciare jozi(te) d-o vanghitidde
v-a ppigghie u mmire i mmuttile jund-o rrizzile
Chimbá Ggiuonne lu patrone mije
preste li porta mi vin-a japrì
preste li porta mi vin-a japrie
te dòke la bbòna nètte ca ne m-a-ggije.
La Matinata
Tok, tok, tok
Hey Giovanni!
Oh, who is it?
When I show you faith without fail
not thinking of you is forgotten affection
Praise, singer, with fine sounds,
with good intention I have begun,
with the help of God we have arrived,
we greet all of you whom we have found
Godfather Giovanni, my master,
I remain at Your Lordship’s grace,
it is the Folk Group “Matera” that pays you homage,
good evening from me and from the whole company
Play, play, oh my instrument,
touch the strings and let me hear you again,
the guitar is better, not the violin,
I wish to praise Biagino
Of Biagino I cannot forget,
his name is beautiful, I have learned it well,
you carry the palm of spring,
when you walk out from within Matera
I was a prisoner and I returned,
I was a prisoner in Germany,
at the coming, alas, of the Poles,
I found the girls with children in their arms
I have a very flourishing garden,
all the fruits I have planted,
I also planted a square of cabbages,
I wish to praise Onofriuccio
Of Onofriuccio I cannot forget,
his name is beautiful, I have learned it well,
all the good I wish you,
that you must die by tomorrow morning
I have tamed flocks of horses,
and you, girl, you do not want to be tamed,
but if I manage to put the bit on you (of the bridle),
without spurs I will make you submit
Godmother Maria, my mistress,
I remain at Your Lordship’s grace,
please rise from the stool,
go fetch the wine and put it in the mug
Godfather Giovanni, my master,
run to the door, come open it for me,
run to the door, come open it for me,
I bid you good night, for we are leaving.
Le foto
