by Vicky Bafataki
In mid-December 2024, in the heart of Catania, amid volcanic eruptions of emotion and culture, the Sicilian land welcomed the Nuccio Costa Award. A multifaceted festival, featuring panels on environmental ethics (in which I participated), artistic performances, masterclasses led by Oscar-winning director and screenwriter Paul Haggis, and film workshops hosted by the festival’s artistic director, Drita Rossi.
There, in the Sicilian soil that breathes Greece—where my ancestors once settled, bringing with them their language, rhythm, philosophy, and thought—I heard a voice singing in the Sicilian dialect, to a Latin rhythm, as if every current of the Mediterranean and beyond had fused within it. A voice clear and unique, a presence that did not seek to stand out—yet could not go unnoticed. It was Emanuele Pavano, or EMAN. We didn’t meet then, but six months later I encountered him in Roccaraso, Italy, at the Ami Corti Film Festival, among directors, screenwriters, actors, scholars, and artists from around the world. His gaze was clear, serene, smiling—and above all, his music was genuine. It did not conform. It invented. And as a singer-songwriter, he remains authentic, building his art from the raw materials of the self. That’s why he stood out. At Roccaraso, he was awarded Best Singer and Composer of 2025.

Emanuele is not just a songwriter. He is the voice of Sicilian earth and sea. A living language. Poetry transformed into song without losing its silence. He consciously chooses to remain in Sicily, to write and sing in his native tongue, weaving the Sicilian idiom with Latin emotion, conversing with the Arab and Spanish past, returning again and again to his personal Ithaca.
His music does not seek to impress; it simply wishes to exist. And it does exist—like the volcanic ash of his land that claims the stone. Like the sea within the soul of the island. Like the myth that does not fade, but breathes in every verse, every note, every breath. This is Emanuele Hansuel Pavano.
And this was our encounter…
Personal and Artistic Identity
Emanuele, you were born and raised in Syracuse, a city with a profoundly Greek past. How has this shaped your identity as an artist?
I grew up in a small medieval town, a village of about three thousand inhabitants, situated a thousand meters above sea level. It’s called Buccheri, located in the province of Syracuse. My adolescence there deeply influenced my artistic development.
Small towns often offer very little—especially for someone like me, who from an early age felt the fire of art burning inside. Still, I can say with certainty that growing up in a place with so few opportunities was both a burden and a blessing. My inner journey—as both artist and person—was shaped by the stark contrast between what I wished and could do, and what I was actually allowed or able to do.

Thankfully, my family never stood in the way of my decision to dedicate myself to music. And I, for my part, consciously and freely chose to remain in Sicily, fully aware of the challenges and limitations that life in southern Italy—and particularly on my island—would entail. For the past eight years, I’ve lived in Syracuse—a magical city, known around the world. And each passing day fills me with greater pride to be Sicilian.
Do you remember the moment you realized music would be your means of expression? Was there a song that defined you?
Yes, I remember that moment perfectly! It happened when I used to invent melodies in my head—I was a child, maybe 12 or 13 years old, and I felt like there was a real orchestra playing inside me! Then, when I turned eighteen, my uncle gave me a guitar for my birthday, and that’s when I truly understood that all those melodies I had imagined could come out and become music.
The first song I ever wrote was born from a simple C chord progression—the classic sequence used to learn guitar. I’ve always been passionate about writing and poetry. Long before music entered my life, the impulse to compose poetry was already deeply rooted in me.
The Sicilian dialect you use in your songs carries with it history, memory, and orality. What does it mean to you to keep it alive through music?
I’m proud of my aesthetic choice to write lyrics in Sicilian. It’s a real language, not a dialect, as many mistakenly believe. I like to call it an “international language,” because it carries within it the richness of all the cultures that have ruled my island over the centuries. Sicilian retains many Arabic, Spanish, French, and Norman words. It is, without a doubt, a European language! To sing in it is an act of love, but also of resistance—a stand against cultural flattening.

Interculturality and the Mediterranean
The union between the Sicilian dialect and Latin American music is a bold choice. What inspired you to experiment with this cultural-musical blend?
It’s a choice that leaves no room for compromise and certainly does not aim for the mainstream. This choice was born from two powerful emotions: love and courage. Love for my land and its invaluable, millenary culture; and courage to defend it from the onslaught of globalization, which threatens every aspect of our daily lives—including music.
Do you believe music is a language without borders? How do you view the Mediterranean, not only as a geographic space but also as a soundscape?
Music is the most immediate tool for communicating ideals, dreams, and visions to the largest number of people in the shortest amount of time. It is a powerful medium, because music is, above all, vibration—and as such, it touches the deepest strings of our emotions.
For me, the Mediterranean is sacred ground to be protected. A soundscape where cultures meet, coexist, and recognize both their differences and similarities. It is a place of growth and hope for the future. The Mediterranean has been a crossroads of civilizations for centuries. Its sea still holds the most beautiful secrets, as underwater and terrestrial archaeology continually confirms.
Syracuse has long been a crossroads of civilizations: Greek, Roman, Arab, Spanish. Which elements of these cultures resonate most in your music?
In my music, I feel the strongest influences come from the Arab and Spanish traditions. These two cultural presences, once dominant in Sicily, continue to shape my artistic sensibility today.

Your songs convey a deep, almost mythical nostalgia. Do you think music can resurrect forgotten identities?
That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Through my songs, I want to bring to light—like an archaeologist—the truth of words and the musical vibrations of cultures that once thrived in Sicily but have since vanished. Music can become a chisel of memory. A tool for revelation and restoration.
You’ve said that the Hellenism of Syracuse inspires you. How is that bond expressed in your lyrics or musical style?
Syracuse and Athens, in a way, share the same genetic code. Syracuse is a direct daughter of Athens—founded by her. In my lyrics, one can sense the presence of Myth. I hope this poetic yearning emerges clearly through my music. I owe it to my classical studies, my immersion in Greek mythology, and, of course, to the fact that in Syracuse, Hellenism is something you breathe. It has always been here. And it still is.
If you were asked to compose music for an ancient Greek hymn or a verse from the Odyssey, what would you choose and why?
Without a doubt, I would choose the verses that describe Odysseus’ impressions of the lands he encounters on his journey – and, for obvious reasons, especially his impressions of Trinacria (Sicily), the island of the Sun.
How does the audience respond when they hear a Latin American-style song with Sicilian lyrics and an atmosphere reminiscent of Greek myth?
My musical project – an EP of four tracks entitled SicuLatina – was met with great interest by both the audience and professionals in the field. All highlighted its originality and the absence of stylistic compromises. The songs preserve a sense of spontaneity and natural flow, even though the project itself is a bold and ambitious experiment. That recognition means a great deal to me.
AmiCorti Film Festival, with Professor of Philosophy Evangelos Protopapadakis, Mexican actor Victor Gonzales, and Communication Specialist and Bioethics Researcher Vicky Bafataki.
A CONTEMPORARY OUTLOOK AND FUTURE PLANS
In today’s world, where globalization tends to homogenize cultures, what role can music play in preserving cultural diversity?
As I mentioned earlier in our discussion on globalization, music – like all art forms – can be a powerful vehicle for preserving tradition, while still allowing room for innovation and discovery. That has been my aim with this musical endeavor.
EMAN with Drita Rossi, Artistic Director of the AmiCorti Film Festival 2025
What is your next artistic step? Do you have any planned collaborations or upcoming releases?
My fourth and final single, which will complete my debut EP SicuLatina, is set to be released on July 18, 2025, and will be available on all digital platforms worldwide. For now, I have no further plans – I want to close this chapter, which has already brought me so many rewarding experiences.
If you were asked to dedicate a song to the Greek soul of Syracuse, what would its title be, and what would the chorus say?
The song would be titled Ithaca. In Homer’s work, Ithaca is not just an island – it is the center of Odysseus’ world, the place to which he longs to return, a symbol of his deep connection to home. Ithaca, then, becomes a symbol of reunion and rootedness – the bond between the traveler and his origins.
The chorus might say:
“Returning to you / Is like returning to life and to love.”