Why A-Tempo exists

01

Where it started

A-Tempo was born from a very concrete family scene: my daughter Iris learning the violin. Not an abstract idea. Not a market analysis. A child, a music sheet, a metronome.

Iris started the violin at seven, with a passion that was obvious from day one. Her teacher, Lucia Dorelli, had the wisdom to let her approach music in the most natural way possible — choosing her own pieces, moving from classical to Celtic jigs, never letting practice feel like an obligation. Iris attends the Waldorf school "L'Arco D'Oro" in Rome, and the same philosophy carried over to music: learn by letting things become part of life, not by treating them as tasks.

After about two years, the work started requiring more technical precision. It was time to make friends with the metronome.

02

The mechanical metronome: a difficult friend

Iris was used to a "real," tangible world — Waldorf pedagogy avoids digital in the early years — so my wife and I chose a mechanical pendulum metronome. Something to touch, adjust, place: just like the one her grandfather had used. We're all music lovers in the family, amateurs, but music has always been part of daily life.

The mechanical metronome had its charm. It also had concrete limits: the pendulum wasn't perfectly even in both directions, creating a slightly irregular beat; it needed a stable, level surface; and when Iris worked on the volume of her sound, the ticking vanished underneath it.

Sometimes she just didn't use it. Not out of laziness — but because at certain moments it bothered her more than it helped.

Misia Sophia Jannoni Sebastianini, an extraordinary Roman violinist and, lucky for us, a dear family friend, has always been a reference point for Iris. When Iris told her about her difficulties with the metronome, Misia said something that stuck: "Iris, the metronome is a musician's best friend. It's a friendship you have to cultivate, and you can't rush it. Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes patience, but in the end it becomes a precious relationship that helps you grow as a musician."

03

The idea: build it myself

I'm a software developer — embedded, mobile, full stack web. When I realised the mechanical metronome wasn't enough for Iris, my first instinct wasn't to buy something — it was to build it.

I'd seen smartwatch metronomes online that use vibration to deliver the beat. I thought: before buying anything, I'll write an app. I've played electric guitar for years, and on guitar pedalboards tap tempo is a function I use constantly — that would be in the app from day one.

I started building what would later become A-Tempo. Without the AI coding tools I had access to, this project probably would have ended like many other side projects in my life: started, never finished.

04

The first feedback

The first prototype was simple: choose a tempo, start/stop, sound, and vibration. I had Iris try it.

Her initial reaction was positive. Then came the feedback I wasn't expecting: "Dad, I can't feel the vibration when I play."

She was right. When you play violin, your body is already full of physical sensations: strings under your fingers, the bow, the resonating body of the instrument. The phone's vibration disappears in that context. I realised I was building an app that for Iris — the person I'd built it for — didn't actually work.

I stepped back. I stopped pushing it on her, left the app available without pressure, and kept working on it out of technical curiosity.

05

The turning point: a light in the dark

A few months later, at Christmas, we gave Iris a ticket to "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince in Concert" in Rome — the film projected while a live orchestra performs the score.

The evening was beautiful. But the biggest gift went to me.

On the way home, Iris said: "Dad, the conductor was getting the tempo from a light that flashed, and he was following it to conduct the orchestra. It was like a metronome for him, but instead of a sound or a vibration, it was a light. It seemed so strange, but also so brilliant!"

That light is the visual click track conductors use in film-with-orchestra concerts, to stay in sync with the picture. Iris had noticed it, understood it, and told me about it with her eyes shining.

That's when I understood what the app was missing: visual feedback. The torch flash, or the whole screen blinking. A channel that Iris's brain — busy with sound, fingers, bow — could pick up without extra effort.

06

Why I published it

Once I added visual feedback, A-Tempo finally worked for Iris the way I'd hoped. But I also realised the story behind it — and the tool itself — was worth sharing.

How many families are in the same situation? How many parents are looking for something that actually works for their children? How many teachers would love to recommend a more flexible tool?

I decided to publish it. Not to build a business — there's no team, no advertising budget. There's a true story, a tool that works, and the hope that it reaches the people who need it.

07

A (provisional) ending fit for a story

In April 2026, Iris — twelve years old — took part in her first solo violin competition. And came first.

In May 2026, Apple approved A-Tempo for distribution on the App Store. Then A-Tempo also arrived on Google Play, making the same tool available on both iOS and Android.

I don't know if there's a connection between the two. I do know that both exist thanks to the same hours of practice, the same patience, and a friendship — the one with the metronome — that turned out to be precious in the end, just as Misia had said.