The Lucchese system is very similar to the Bolognese, while the festive sound of the Umbrian system is achieved by having only one bell (the largest) reach the cup position, while the others are rung as a carillon. For this ringing system, concerts of three, four, five and even more bells are used.

In the Lombard area, they use the so-called Ambrosian system of “balanced” bells, in which the bells are initially brought to the cup position with being synchronized and only when the bronzes are in the cup position does the concert begin, consisting of musical phrases determined by the timing and sequencing of the “falls”. In Milanese style ringing, the celebration concerts are obtained by interweaving notes and carefully avoiding two bells striking at the same time. On the other hand, in Bergamo style ringing, the bell ringers ability lies in achieving a “snap”, which is the simultaneous striking of an ascending bell and a bell that, in the concert’s music sequence, finds it self descending.

All the ringing systems mentioned above, serve to produce calls or announcement for the faithful, at least in the most recurrent situations. So, the bells can ring in concert, lively, dead and solemn; they also ring the “Angelus” at noon and the “Ave Maria” in the evening; this is probably a tradition of German origin (it was practiced in Moravia as early as 1413), which Pope Callistus generalized in 1456, also ordering that the ringing of the Angelus be followed by the recitation of three Hail Marys. Callistus III meant, in this way, to invoke the intercession of the Virgin in favor of Christianity, at that time engaged in a harsh struggle against the Ottomans who were poised to occupy all of Europe.

In Literature and Music

All the more complex elaborations are derived from this basic alphabet and, without a shadow of a doubt, lead us directly into a full artistic environment, a fascinating art that requires sensitivity and a musical as well as the physical ability to move and synchronize the bells that often reach total weights of several thousand pounds; so, in addition to tradition and the sacred, there is also the physical activity and concentration necessary to achieve the right musical sequence that has nothing to fear from a comparison with any other more popular sports activity. Often, when ringing concerts composed of many bells, a good outcome requires teams of ringers (sometimes 18 or 20) all working in perfect harmony.

We hope that this tradition will survive and even become territory to be reconquered in a cultural sense, if not in an athletic sense, through the many associations of bell ringers that are keeping this art alive, and not only in Italy.
The solemn or pealing voice of bells has also fascinated many composers who have attempted to reproduce or evoke their sound. In this context, the most famous bell in the history of music is also the smallest. It has to do, in fact, with “La campanella”, final rondo of the Concerto in B-flat (Opus 7) by Niccolò Paganini, which Listz transcribed for the piano. In this version, the virtuoso trill of this crazy little bell became famous.

On the other hand, it is less well known that bells have been celebrated in several lyric operas, beginning with Verdi (Il Trovatore), Mascagni (Cavalleria Rusticana) and Puccini (Tosca).

Andreas Romberg composed the “Song of the Bell,” a text by Friedrich Von Schiller that has become part of the extensive “literature” dedicated to the bell.
In fact, the “bronzes” have played an equally important role in literature. Passing over quotations that Greek and Latin writers (Euripides, Aristophanes, Phaedrus, Ovid, Martial, etc.) have dedicated to the “tintinnabula”, the ringing of the sacred bronzes has inspired many poets, beginning with Dante. Leopardi, Manzoni, D’Annunzio, Schiller, Garcia Lorca and Eduardo De Filippo have also written about bells, even if the most famous is, no doubt, Hemingway’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls” (1940) in which the tolling bell symbolizes the liberty of Europe threatened by dictatorships. In fact, the novel was inspired by Hemingway’s experience as a war correspondent for an alliance of North American newspapers, on whose account he found himself in Spain during the civil war (1936-39).

Even Carducci, a “non-believer” for most of his life, was moved by the sound of the bell in a small church (San Donato in Polenta, in Romagna) that was ringing the Ave Maria: the song of the bells seemed to bring a blessed quiet to the difficulties of existence, dissolve anguish into tears and restore the voice of prayer to all.