I was born in a small hospital in a village in the province of Padua on the first day of the 1971 spring. My parents called me Domenico not because I came to light on Sunday -would have been too obvious- but for a vow made by mom to St. Domenico Savio for the grace to have a child (she was diagnosed a complete sterility: great mystery, because after me She got three other daughters, all healthy and beautiful). My father Mario, electrician and my mother Annamaria, literature teacher in a secondary school, very proud of their origin (as all the Venetians), didn't expected that from the earliest months of life their infant showed a musical talent that not belonged to the family genes.In the seventies Chioggia offered musically nothing at all, except the band that accompanied "Fish Festival". Was inevitable the parting with my land to transfer me at the Conservatory of Geneva. My parents hoped I was lack of talent, but at the end of the hearing Corrado Romano began to cry with emotion (the very positive episodes are always well etched in the memory of a child). He asked if I had Jewish source (Jews are rightly considered the greatest violinists in the world) and if He had ever heard a Bach E Major Loure so good. In Geneva I met many of those who today are the best violinists in Italy (Uto Ughi, Miriam Dal Don, Marco Fornaciari, Renato Donà): definetly, Corrado Romano was a great teacher and the Italian musical life owes him much. I studied with him for six years and I learned the great left hand discipline.My youth best memories are linked to long transfers from Chioggia to Geneva by train. I still have in mind the fragrance of warm croissants that welcomed me and my grandmother Angelina to our arrival in Switzerland at 6 am and the chocolate that was used to give me the strength to make lesson. Twenty hour train ride, three times a month for each month, plus the school attended even among many absences due to "illness" of various kinds (my teachers didn't take kindly to musical studies and they were made the idea that I was at the end of my existence). A hard life, but stimulating. The years passed, I grew up in a hurry even physically -I shaved for the first time at 11- and my competitive spirit slowly emerged with great force and exploded in the firm conviction that it was necessary to compare myself with others to claim my supposed "musical superiority" (yuck!).My 16 was determinant because I forged the right ambition. "How many colleagues have changed jobs rather than humbly accept the opinions of others! But the musician has to run the risk of not appeal to everyone...".When I read the announcement of 1987 "Viotti" Competition I didn't expect to be ready to prepare a so large program in such a short time and, above all, that I didn't have enough courage to show up in front of a prestigious jury with one of my idols as president (Yehudi Menuhin). My stubbornness and my willingness to get involved helped me overcome the great shyness to convince myself that maybe I could try and that, probably, It wouldn't be a tragedy.The competition started on October 23, ten days after I got the victory that guaranteed me a formidable concert tour and the honor of being directed by Menuhin himself. At that point it would be easy for a boy to lose his head completely, in reality what happened was just the beginning of a endless road, there is nothing to do. Suddently I was in a world I didn't know. I was confused, but the family education earned by my family helped me to anchor the principles that have always been the foundation of my life: humilty and perseverance. My path was traced and certainly I wouldn't have done the nuclear physicist or the lawyer (my mother after all even now wonders what would have happened if I hadn't participated at the Viotti, but...)."The competitions are like peanuts, once you begin you just cannot stop". It was what I kept saying to justify the lucid madness that caught me between the ages of seventeen and eighteen. I don't know if the awards in competitions such as Paris, Marseille, Viña del Mar and especially Amsterdam (the Eurovision Grand Prix assigned to me during a live broadcast from the Concertgebouw) were useful to my career, but at that time I met many famous violinists. Among them, the legendary Zino Francescatti affectionately considered me as a grandchild, but unfortunately He missed almost immediately. During my time passed in Paris (three years long, from '89 to '92) Michèle Auclair changed all my bow technic. Told in a language blunt but sometimes a bit hard, She believed I was just worthy to accompany "O Sole Mio" with the mandolin! Riccardo Brengola welcomed me to his home in Rome with his fascinating tales.Now there are Rebecca, Gabriele, Pietro and Rachele, my kids whom are the real reason for my existence. I thank God they are not studying music seriously. They are good listeners, I hope, even if Gabriele sleeps during my concerts and Pietro makes very unpromising grimaces when He hears me playing.Today I live in Padua -the blood always brings you back to the origin- and I enjoy performing beautiful music, playing videogames with my children with whom I love to amble. I play card games with my sisters Chiara, Marina and Sara and I always win (....I love to think this is real) and I teach to sing to my grandchilds Mattia, Dalila, Giulia, Ilaria, Lorenzo and Francesco. My grandfather Otello taught me to love the sea and boats as a good fisherman. I live the atmosphere of the world, but as soon as I come back to take refuge in the warmth of my home I'm cuddled like a lord.I am a lucky man.