Mina, the greatest singer in the world: what can we learn from her business case?

Was another book about Mina needed? Perhaps yes, but more for us, Italians of any age, background, profession, and history. Mina doesn’t need this book—written by Frank Pagano, Marco Di Dio Roccazzella, and Pierangelo Soldavini.

Or any other book dedicated to her, in general. In fact, knowing her only indirectly, through her writings as a journalist for Vanity Fair, Liberal, and La Stampa, she would surely have commented on the creation of a business case about her with her usual lightness, intelligence, and humor. “There are more important things in life…,” we can almost hear her voice say.

And, as always, she would be right. Life is made up of that very lightness and focus that she has shown from the very beginning, probably making herself the most familiar face and voice in our history—not just television, but truly Italian culture as a whole.

No, Mina doesn’t need another book. We are the ones who need figures like Mina, who reaffirm a different, natural, and authentic paradigm of what it means to be an artist, a woman, a show business personality, and a cultural icon. We are the ones who need her example. We need more Minas in our world, and the intention of this work is precisely to identify those characteristics that make her a great Italian success and a free person. And we do so, thinking especially of the younger generations, or artists just starting their careers, or entrepreneurs and managers searching for their own identities as they strive to create something new. We have a great, entirely Italian example to understand and follow.

Hers is an exceptional case. The odds that Mina would become the beacon of Italian television in the Sixties and Seventies, and the number one voice ever to exist in the history of Italian song, were minimal. As seen in the chapter by Paolo Colombo and Anna Simioni, even before diving into her story and then the actual business case of Mina, women never had the chance to leave a mark, either in Italy or abroad, in the world of art or music. There are insurmountable obstacles, rooted in our culture and history, that lead us to reward the composer, the singer-songwriter, the performer, more than their female counterparts. The cliché of our way of doing entertainment, art, and music relegates women to a secondary role. Until Mina came along.

She had—and still has—it all: immeasurable talent, ease in verbal exchanges with the legends of both small and big screens, beauty, and the courage to experiment and change looks and styles, demonstrating a modernity that has inspired women and men from the postwar period to today. Mina is a modern woman, in fact, a modern character, in every sense. There are few born like Mina, and we have had the good fortune to have her in Italy. Is she truly a rare gem? Yes, with a postscript, a caveat, which is the focus of the reflection by Pagano, Di Dio Roccazzella, and Soldavini’s book.

Certainly, hers is an exceptional case. But can we perhaps steal a few of her secrets, so that it becomes normal for anyone to find their own voice? So that it is normal to have the space to pursue research and innovation? So that it is normal to silence the noise of social media and prejudice, to evolve one’s identity and fulfill oneself as professionals, and above all, as men and women?

This is what is distilled in this volume. What emerges is a mix of unique characteristics, and traits that, paradoxically, are replicable—even today—and that can help anyone find their own path, made up of truth, independence, and long-term vision.

Technology has only increased Mina’s powers of innovation and transformation, in her musical and stylistic exploration. It’s not true that the revolution of artificial intelligence is our enemy, if we manage, as she did, to focus on what makes us free, human—even from the very persona created by the stage, where each of us finds ourselves performing every day, whatever our occupation might be.

Mina sings our story, our imperfect loves, the complexity of relationships in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, with a beauty and elegance that make everyday emotions just a little more special. We must take seriously what matters and less, so what is fleeting. The absence/presence of Mina is liberating and strengthens the myth of the woman, artist, and character that we need to create in our communities, families, and workplaces. We must support, nurture, promote, and reward the work of women like Mina. Yes, “pay.” Genius must be tangibly supported, especially in an era when content is increasingly free and we struggle to recognize merit in the creator. Let this become normal, too.

Writing Mina’s business case has been a gift, first of all for us, the authors, and for all those who contributed—experts, journalists, and musicians. Mina embodies so many Italian values, which we want to celebrate here and remember for those who will come after. We truly needed it.