Sting bewitches Villa Manin: ten thousand sing "Message in a Bottle" and other hits...

The former Police band's performance thrilled the audience in Codroipo. The venue was sold out, with spectators arriving from all over Europe.

Ten thousand Sting fans flocked to Villa Manin for the "Sting 3.0" world tour, the only stop in the Northeast after Bassano del Grappa was canceled due to bad weather. On Monday, the former Police band performed in Rome, at the Cavea of ​​the Auditorium della Musica, which has a capacity of only 3,000.

The Friuli date was sold out long ago: seated stalls, standing room, and two raised stands. More than half of the audience in Codroipo came from outside the region: 9.4% from Slovenia, 3.6% from Austria, 3% from Croatia, 0.6% from Switzerland, and 3.4% from other countries (Romania, Germany, France, Spain, Serbia, Bosnia, Slovakia, Belgium, the United Kingdom, Bulgaria, and Greece). Thirty-six percent came from the rest of Italy (in order: Veneto, Lombardy, Sicily, Lazio, Puglia, Piedmont, Tuscany, Trentino-Alto Adige, and Emilia-Romagna).

And where did Sting come from? He landed at Trieste (Ronchi) airport on July 9th on a flight from Florence, arriving at Villa Manin around 3:00 PM. He was accompanied by his personal chef, whom the singer asked to prepare him a sea bass.

After the Rome concert, he chose to stop at his Tuscan estate, Il Palagio, a 16th-century villa in Figline Valdarno that he has owned since 1997. His love for Italy is confirmed by the recent news of his purchase of a second villa, in Massa Lubrense (Naples). And on the evening of July 9th, "Posso ingresso? An ode to Naples," a documentary directed by his wife Trudie Styler, aired on Rai1.

He will be joined by a band composed of virtuoso guitarist and longtime collaborator Dominic Miller and dynamic drummer Chris Maas. "Being a trio rather than a larger band," Sting said of the tour, "means you have to work even harder. On stage, I do the work of a 25-year-old, and I'm happy to do it."

Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner, aka Sting, who is 73, has spoken about his routine on several occasions: "Whenever I can, I swim every morning, practice yoga, stretch, work out, walk. I keep my body trained, and consequently my mind."

In addition to his daily physical activity, he never stops practicing: "I sit at the piano or pick up the guitar and continue to learn, to discover. You never get to the point of saying: Now I know everything. Music is a puzzle, like life." "Sting 3.0" is also the title of the album released in April, which contains nine of his hits. Hits from his solo career and those of The Police, which are a must-see on the live setlist.

At Villa Manin, as always, we kick off with "Message in a Bottle," a great Police classic from 1979, with a universal theme: everyone's need to feel connected to others, like a castaway sending a message in a bottle, an SOS to the world, only to discover in the end that there are billions of floating bottles of equally lonely people.

"I liked the idea," the songwriter explained, "that beyond loneliness and alienation, there is the relief of finding other people in the same situation."

Another song worth listening to is “I Wrote Your Name (Upon My Heart),” released in September, three years after the album “The Bridge.”

For the rest, it's a journey into the past. "Englishman in New York" dates back to 1988, yet it's so timely, inspired by his friend, writer Quentin Crisp, who moved to the Big Apple from London in the 1970s while awaiting naturalization. "New York is an interesting place, full of 'legal aliens'—by aliens I don't mean those from Mars, but immigrants," in the words of Sting, who himself became English in New York. "The city was built by immigrants, and I'm proud to be part of that category. If we start not welcoming people who are different from us, it's the end."

Few words from the ever-present headphone microphone that allows him maximum mobility and freedom with his instrument, but plenty of music: everything flows, from "Every Breath You Take" to "Roxanne" towards the finale, a perfect close to the evening, sponsored by "GO! 2025&Friends" and organized in collaboration with FVG Music Live and VignaPR.

(c) Il Nord Est by Elisa Russo

---

Sting, back to the essentials...

The concert at Villa Manin was a rediscovery of the purest soul of his music. In a trio with Dominic Miller and Chris Maas, the former Police member delivers a masterclass in style and substance, featuring hits, improvisations, and a few surprises for connoisseurs.

There's a moment, at the heart of Sting's concert at Villa Manin, when everything stops for a moment. Time seems suspended between the arpeggiated notes of "Mad About You" and the attentive silence of the audience, almost as if they were holding their breath. It's there that we understand the meaning of his "3.0 Tour": a choice of subtraction, of essentiality, of returning to the essence of music. And, above all, of his music.

We're in Codroipo, in the beating heart of Friuli, in a charming and enchanting location like Villa Manin, which alone would be enough to justify a truly special and unforgettable evening. But Sting—real name Gordon Matthew Sumner—does much more: he manages to transform a monumental park, rich in history and charm, into a true temple of sound, creating a magical and engaging atmosphere. He is accompanied solely by the historic guitar of Dominic Miller, his faithful lifelong musical companion, and the calibrated and expressive drums of Chris Maas, already known for his collaboration with Mumford & Sons, recently seen at the Verona Arena.

Three essential instruments, three highly talented musicians, a full, vibrant, and lively sound that fills every corner of the space. They bring to life, in front of over ten thousand people, a masterful concert—organized in collaboration with FVG Music Live and VignaPR - doubtfully anticipated, given the cancellation of a few days earlier in Bassano del Grappa (Vicenza) due to bad weather.

The "power trio" formula is nothing new to those familiar with The Police's repertoire, and Sting draws from that vast heritage with great enthusiasm and determination, as one might expect from an artist of his calibre and experience. The songs chosen include timeless classics like "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic," "Walking on the Moon," "So Lonely," "King of Pain," and "Can't Stand Losing You," the latter enriched by a musical digression on "Synchronicity II," as well as the legendary "Roxanne," which includes the customary mid-song exchange with the audience, a moment that never fails to stir emotions.

However, the real strength of this show, perhaps surprisingly and paradoxically, lies precisely in the solo pieces, which are rearranged with refined taste, lively creativity, and truly remarkable freedom of expression. From "Englishman in New York" to "Desert Rose," via a reinterpretation of "Shape of My Heart" that almost approaches jazz, each song offers a completely new and original perspective, profoundly enriching the overall musical experience and highlighting Sting's versatility and extraordinary talent even more clearly and engagingly.

It is precisely at this moment that the trio displays its expressive capabilities at their peak. The arrangements continually transform, expanding, fragmenting, and then reassembling in unexpected ways. Bass, guitar, and drums engage in an intense dialogue, provoking one another, chasing each other, creating a compelling interplay of sounds.

Sometimes the pulsating groove dominates and draws the listener in, as in songs like "Never Coming Home" and "Heavy Cloud No Rain." Other times, however, the clear, crystalline melody takes centre stage, as in "Fields of Gold" or the delicate "Fragile," a song that concludes the evening in an intimate and mellow atmosphere, almost caressing the audience's fingers.

On the verge of 74, which he will turn this October, Sting no longer possesses the vocal range that characterized his prime, but his voice is still present and easily recognizable. When necessary, he relies on the experience he's gained over the years and the richness of his timbre that he's developed over time. He avoids any form of virtuosity for its own sake, favouring instead consistency and a profound respect for the songs he performs. And, surprisingly, he displays an unusually voluble verve: he tells amusing anecdotes, introduces songs with subtle irony, and jokes amiably with the audience. It's clear he's having a great time, and his cheerfulness is infectious and engaging, making the experience even more enjoyable for everyone.

The concert begins at 9:00 PM sharp with the inevitable "Message in a Bottle" and concludes an hour and fifty minutes later with the touching "Fragile," performed against the light. In between, twenty songs span and represent all the different phases of his long and brilliant musical career. While the overall structure of the show remains fairly stable, it's in the middle that Sting loves to experiment, changing the repertoire from one evening to the next.

In Codroipo, for example, he gifted us with songs like "A Thousand Years" and "Can't Stand Losing You," two songs that aren't always part of the official setlist. A clear sign that, even after decades of career and success, Sting maintains a spirit of freedom and creativity, continuing to surprise and engage audiences with unpredictable choices.

In an era where many artists increasingly rely on pre-recorded backing tracks, eye-catching visuals, and spectacular sets to mask any shortcomings in their live performances, Sting instead chooses a completely different and, in some ways, revolutionary approach: three instruments, no special effects, no artifice. Just good music, played with mastery and passion, and that proves more than enough.

The "3.0 Tour" is not a simple act of nostalgia or a revival of times past: it is a powerful demonstration of how, with genuine talent and artistic rigor, you can still deeply move an audience with very little. Or rather, with the essential, the true and pure. Until next time, Matthew Gordon Sumner.

(c) Heraldo by Ernesto Kieffer

---

Without a Safety Net: Sting and the Art of Stripping Away Everything, Except the Soul...

A trio, no safety net, and a repertoire spanning nearly fifty years of music with the confidence of those who need nothing to prove, but everything to share.

Version 3.0 of his live show is an exercise in conscious subtraction: nothing superfluous, just structure, balance, and focus. A sound that doesn't seek to impress, but rather holds the audience captivated with its coherence and intensity.

The concert, which began at 9:00 PM sharp (a credit to the impeccable organization), immediately stood out for its clean and clear acoustics. The bass—the usual, unmistakable Fender, full of scratches and history—is the solid foundation that supports the harmonic and rhythmic structure with precision and depth, without ever invading the other musical spaces... quite the opposite, in fact!

With three instruments at your disposal, every choice matters. Here, nothing is left to chance: every line is methodically interlocked, every passage is essential.

The remarkable and seasoned guitarist Dominic Miller alternated clean arpeggios and rhythm sections with great control of the instrument, avoiding any redundancy. His parts don't just embellish: they resolve.

Chris Maas is a solid drummer; his drumming is dry and compact, he plays with dynamics and deploys a great variety of patterns. No virtuosity for its own sake, just confidence and precision.

The visual staging was an integral part of the stage construction. The lighting effects—dynamic, moving, often sharp—emphasized the transitions, but also structured the different sections of the songs.

The side wall screens ensured presence and attention to detail even for those far from the stage, without ever becoming invasive.

Sting sang with confidence and control, without excess. His timbre is still full and stable, though smoother than in the Roaring Twenties.

His bass, marked by time but still pulsating with identity, is the backbone of the set: solid, flexible, capable of sustaining rhythm and harmony with ease.

The instrument, in his hands, not only accompanies, but narrates: it traces trajectories, supports the gaps, and holds the taut thread on which the entire concert runs.

It is structure, direction, and root. There are no poses or theatrical effects: the stage presence lies entirely in the measured gesture, the gaze, and the perfect vocal attack.

The setlist, alongside evergreens like "Englishman in New York," "Walking on the Moon," and "So Lonely," also features the recent "I Wrote Your Name (Upon My Heart)" (2024), already integrated into the concert flow.

Even in this minimalist guise, Sting's music continues to carry clear traces of his hybrid language, which has always drawn on reggae, pop, and jazz in a structural, not rhapsodic, way.

This can be sensed in the elastic groove of "Walking on the Moon," in the harmonic tension of "Driven to Tears," in the jazzy construction of "Englishman in New York."

It's no coincidence that, over the years, Sting has collaborated with some of the most significant jazz musicians on the international scene: Branford Marsalis, Omar Hakim, Kenny Kirkland, to name a few, and the album "Nothing Like the Sun" (1987) is concrete proof of that past still resonating under the skin.

Also unforgettable is his historic performance with Gil Evans and his orchestra at Umbria Jazz in 1987: a bold and visionary experiment, in which his pop writing opened up to improvisation, jazz orchestration, and expressive freedom.

Even today, in this reduced ensemble, that legacy isn't an echo: it's a living root. It's felt in the musical breaths, in the choice of pauses, in the ability to suggest vast sonic universes with the bare minimum, in the ensemble's ever-responsive dynamics.

No nostalgia, no self-celebration: just music constructed with rigor, played with coherence, shared with intelligence. This is Sting 3.0: a line-up stripped down to the essentials, yet fully capable of delivering a concert of the highest calibre.

And then, let's face it: for one evening, this writer is a young girl again.

Between "King of Pain" and "Message in a Bottle," between a sharp flash of light and a perfect rhythmic interplay, something rare happened: not only did we listen to a great concert, but we experienced an authentic moment, one of those that makes you want to start over.

To do it all over again. Maybe 40 years younger.

And, I admit, I didn't just put down the notebook where I jot down my impressions and notes: I did it almost immediately, and I left it there, between one verse and the next, while I sang every word without restraint, along with thousands of people.

And then "Fragile." Just a few notes, a thread of voice, and that suspension between saying and feeling that only music can allow.

"There's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." Leonard Cohen wrote this. And Sting remembered it without saying it, allowing his most delicate song to become not a closure, but a glimmer of hope.

Because fragility, true fragility, is not a crack to hide, but a gap to pass through. It is through there that light shines. And perhaps also the meaning and possibility of remaining human, even when everything is shaky.

Postscript. One last confession: on "Fragile," I did what true fans do, not serious music journalists ;-). I posted a video on social media.

In the background, you can barely hear Sting's voice, a lot of mine, and a lot of that of the 10,000 people in the audience.

And maybe... that's right. Maybe.

(c) A Proposito di Jazz by Marina Tuni