When someone like Raffaella Carrà leaves, the living room immediately feels a bit emptier and quieter. This is what happens to Italians of several generations and – by a coincidence in history – also to the Spaniards. You lose an icon of television, the “Queen of Saturday evenings” in sequins and brightly colored clothes and, above all, a free voice against taboos and bigotries. The death of Raffaella Maria Roberta Pelloni alias Carrà from Bologna triggers so much participation that not much is missing for transfiguration.
Carrà was a singer, dancer, showgirl and presenter, but she started out as an actress. At the age of eight she played in the first film. Then she did serious theater, big plays, a musical with Marcello Mastroianni, when the state broadcaster Rai decided in the sixties that she would fit into the vaudeville genre. The show was given to her Canzonissima, a happy music and dance show. She was the host and protagonist. In 1971 she performed a scandalous belly-free song with the mythical Alberto Sordi that was supposed to overturn customs in the country and almost maddened the Catholic Church: “Tuca Tuca” was a little erotic provocation, a light hymn to life and love, very harmless in retrospect. But the performance would have been censored had it not been for the Roman actor Sordi, who was already half a saint back then.
In 1976, the year after the death of Francisco Franco, Spain’s dictator, Carrà carried her infectious laugh and her completely unideological spirit of freedom to Madrid – including her blonde bob hairstyle. For the Spaniards it was a revelation, a revolutionary light breeze from the television that went well with the new attitude towards life. Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez writes in a wistful tweet: “Their music made our hearts happy, their liberal spirit filled our souls.”
“Pronto, Raffaella?” She belonged to the staff of the republic
Too much honor for what the Italians call a showgirl? Times were different, the television was always on. Carrà also had a Heartbreak and Reunion show: Carràmba! Che sorpresa was a street sweeper and she cried with the guests. If you questioned the authenticity of the posts, she could be very offended. In Pronto, Raffaella?, a lunchtime show, people could call and estimate how many beans there were in the jar in the studio. That was totally impossible, of course, but funny. “La Carrà” also called Giulio Andreotti, the country’s seven-time Prime Minister, who was part of the republic’s staff.
In addition, Carrà was an icon for the LGBTQ world, which she never fully understood herself. Perhaps it was because her struggle against conservative social hypocrisy and false moralisms, which was influenced by the Church, was seen by many as a reaction to her life story: Raffaella grew up with three women – mother, grandmother and an English governess. The father had left the family when she was less than two years old. And then of course there was her demonstrative tolerance for everyone, her wonderfully crazy clothes, the whole style. She was a juror for years The Voice, once directed the Sanremo Music Festival.
She was always there. “With you”, Adriano Celentano says goodbye, “a part of our life flies into the sky – the happiest.” Raffaella Carrà died in Rome at the age of 78 after a brief illness.