Matteo Franceschini shows his authorial character even better than before. Shameless, harsh, extreme. His music has a strong, dreamlike impression between labyrinth-instrumental, translucent gestures and a refined timber’s development.

Angelo Foletto, La Repubblica

With convincing, vibrant writing and a clear sensitivity for the narrative role of the music in its many variations and its constant fluidity, Matteo Franceschini’s instrumental theatre has an authoritative freedom and an uninhibited nonchalance in following the inclinations of his fertile but well-organised imagination. His compositional way of thinking and his attraction to the fairy-tale world, to that which is beyond mere sensory perception, remind one of Schumann.

Sandro Cappelletto

In vocal music of Matteo Franceschini nests a theatrical form that you might define using an antique rhetorical device: hypotyposis. This, a little bit obsolete and archaic term – which literally means “I draw” – refers to the abilities that some words have to show things in an immediate, direct, “iconic” way. Material things, like objects and people, as well as immaterial things like ideas, concepts, thoughts.

Guido Barbieri

We are in front of an artist able to talk to the listener with an engaging language, not burdened with an end in itself technicality.

Antoine Pecqueur, La terrasse

You can’t miss My Way to Hell, a “remix” operation built around the myth of Orpheus. The – a little bit crazy – composer who has undertaken this journey is Matteo Franceschini.

Vincenzo Santangelo, Rockerilla

Matteo Franceschini shows proficiency, stylistic maturity and a deep composition technique. La casa dell'eremita, slips on us and stays inside thanks to its emotional aspect, which joins a researching and experimental language.

Antonella Iozzo, Bluarte

Set by Matteo Franceschini literally sets its stamp, according to a rigor from which the breath of music, the sense of a suspended time and a timber sharpness blossom.

Giangiorgio Satragni, La stampa

The Trentino-born Matteo Franceschini has no obviousness to reveal. In Gridario he tells some bizarre laws proclaimed by the aristocracy of his land during the 18th century, and let them be commented by an alpine choir which represents the folks that suffers the laws themselves. At the same time, the electronic reminds how this narration happens nowadays. That’s how this all gives birth to a skillful and smart contamination of resonant objects.

Enrico Girardi, Il corriere della sera.

In his opera My way to hell, Franceschini has the great quality of coming back to the origins of Greek myth. As a matter of fact, he revitalizes it with a noteworthy freshness and spontaneity.

Laurent Vilarem, la lettre du musicien

LThe score of Ardus [Chanto II] takes up this idea of a journey and comes close to being a kind of Platonic voyage in the world of ideas. A succession of cries and wails in reprimanded by the unease of the strings. Briefly effervescent, the orchestra seems to be in ferment.

Michael Hambersin