"She Turned Down 300 Dollars A Day By Returning to Buenos Aires..."
Any Tania fans out there? I certainly am one.
For those who may not know, Tania (13 October 1893-17 February 1994!) was a Spanish singer and actress best known for her artistic and personal association with actor, director, poet, playwright, and tango lyricist Enrique Santos Discépolo. (They met after the poet heard her sing his super-edgy tango ESTA NOCHE ME EMBORRACHO in Buenos Aires's "Folies Bergère" cabaret, and was delighted with it, and her.) But Tania was a star in her own right, and she had her own unique personality and aura which is charmingly revealed in this very intimate, woman-to-woman interview that she gave to tango bandleader Ebe Bedrune for the weekly magazine "Cantando" in 1945. We hope you'll enjoy it!
(A very nice bio of Tania at TodoTango.com calls her un cascabel radiante, "a radiant jingle bell." Worth a read.)
Click on the image to see a fully legible, hi-res version of the original article. (Photo source: Tango Time Machine.) Or read our English-language transcript below.
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Ebe Bedrune Asks, and Tania Answers...
She Turned Down 300 Dollars a Day By Returning To Buenos Aires
Tania, "the actress of tango." I would say, tango made emotion. A coquettish little room, of exquisite simplicity. Not even a painting on the wall. This is marvelous. Each and every corner breathes the soul of our popular music. In each and every corner is Tania and Discépolo.
Ebe: Did you always sing, Tania?
Tania: Always, Ebe, from the day I was born, there was not a moment in my life in which I wasn't a singer.
And she herself is song, her gestures, her eyes, her smile, have that magnificent expression of those who have soul.
What impression did you have on your tour of America?
It was a dream; my performance in Chile, that was supposed to be only a few days, had to be extended for three months, with such success that they were truly emotional days.
And then?
I went on to Mexico. The Mexican public is really sympathetic; and the only word I can say is "thanks."
You were there quite a while, weren't you?
Performing in El Patio for five consecutive months, which set a real record; one of the few cases in which an artist has had such a long appearance without a break.
And why didn't you continue your tour?
You see, Ebe: Out of homesickness for Buenos Aires.
Homesickness?
Yes, it's odd, it reminds me of an earlier visit to Europe when Discépolo and I were performing in Paris. From Italy we received a message saying that in twenty days we were to start a new tour leaving France, returning to Italy, and arriving at Cairo to go across India.
A most promising trip, was it not?
Really, Ebe; but then I felt, without knowing why, an enormous desire to return to Buenos Aires; to walk the port-city streets, to hear the friendly voices, to see its blue sky and its marvelous stars. I was seized by an enormous heartbreak; I had to return, and I did. I didn't do the tour.
Her eyes seem clearer; and there is in them a trace of infinite sadness; they seem to be longing for the suggestion of those strange lands with their breath of mystery and legend.
But, Tania, if you felt such homesickness that you had to return, why this sorrow in your eyes now that you remember the lost trip?
For just that, Ebe, for the lost trip.
And it happened to you again this time, right?
That's right. After being in Peru, and then in Mexico again, they offered me a salary of thre hundred dollars a day to perform in Cuba. [Almost $4000 in today's currency, according to dollartimes.com.--TD] Tempting, right? But I couldn't do it. My desire to return was stronger.
I've heard that it was easy for you to convince the authorities to give you the visa necessary to visit North America. Why didn't you choose to go, Tania?
Not only as a tourist, Ebe, but they offered me a contract to perform in my capacity as an artist for six months.
And...?
And the same as when I was supposed to see the wonders of India, the Havana offer, and the North American visa.
It's that Tania, above all, is a woman. The spiritual grandeur of one who is truly a woman who knows the why of each one of her emotions, and puts them first before whatever flattery the world may bestow; who has her coquettish little apartment in El Centro and her grand home in Olivos, because she knows when to devote herself to her fans; and she knows when to wrap herself up in herself.
One thing surprises me, Tania: that you haven't "done" radio this last season.
It's true. They made me some offers but they "could not be"; so I have put aside the microphone that I love so much because it brings me closer to the listeners. Now, casually, in conjunction with of the confitería where I sing, we're going to solve that problem.
I still remember your performance in "Caprichosa y millonaria" [Capricious Millionaire, a 1940 film directed by Discépolo, with Tania in a starring role.—TD] and I can't understand how such a gifted actress has not returned to the screen.
That's another problem—the question of character (personaje). The one you cited was one I wouldn't mind doing again. Now I can only hope for a film role.
Currently, Tania?
I am performing in a stylish confitería [probably the cafetería "Luba," at Suipacha 580--TD] where I have nothing but praise for the the audiences, whom I now consider to be my fans.
Will you be there for a long time?
Yes, my contract is long; but possibly I'll take some short vacations for a month or two; because I'm a little tired; for some time I've been working very intensively, and I feel the desire now to be all by myself a little.
In truth, Tania is very conscientious about her work; about that which she has to give the fans who love her and follow her; she rehearses constantly, she prepares her repertoire with supreme care, and she attends to her costumes, because, as I said before, Tania is, before anything else, a woman.
Of an exquisite elegance; fine, delicately feminine. Tania possesses the marvelous gift of making herself understood to every heart, because she puts a little of her "self" into every one of her songs, which is what makes them so moving.
Listening to Tania, I lost track of the time and my coffee went cold. Without my noticing, it had gotten very late.
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