Tango Time Machine — Tango Decoder

The Palermo Palace Dossier, Exhibit 6 (Demare/Berón, 28 March 1943)

A nice Sunday afternoon performance by Lucio Demare's orchestra with Raúl Berón. Admission $1, ladies free.

Count me in!

The Best Orchestra You Never Heard?

  Quick! Name the tango orchestra that, from mid-1942 to early 1943, featured both Roberto Rufino and Alberto Marino at the mic. Tango geeks already know the answer, but just in case, here it is....

 

Subtitled Tango #27: ARRABALERO (Mora/Duran, 1952)

There's something really special about this song, composed in 1927. It was recorded twice by male singers (Carlos Gardel, Oscar Larocca) and both times it fell flat, in my opinion (although its composer, Osvaldo Fresedo, recorded a very fine instrumental version, and Juan "Pacho" Maglio gave it his special sauce). The problem is that those male singers had to sing the lyric in the third person, twice removed: a man, telling about a woman, telling about her man: boring!

The song began to smolder in 1950, when songstress Nina Miranda and bandleader Graciano Gomez transposed it to the first person, finally letting the song's high-spirited narrator speak in her own voice. Next, it burst into open flame, or rather exploded, when Diana Durán got hold of it in '52, recording it with Enrique Mora's Quartet. The combination of first-person narration, Mora's punchy arrangement, and Durán's ebullient, tone-perfect delivery brings the song to life once and forever. And it only took twenty-five years!

Tango Decoder's new subtitled video in Spanish and English is below, followed by our full-text translation which was published in an earlier post here.

Arrabalero
Tango, 1927
Música: Osvaldo Fresedo
Letra: Eduardo Calvo
Lyrics as sung by Diana Durán with el Cuarteto Enrique Mora

Soy la pebeta más rechiflada que en el suburbio pasó la vida; soy la percanta que fue querida de aquel malevo que la amuró. Soy el orgullo del barrio entero, tengo una efe que es mi ilusión, pues soy criolla, soy milonguera, quiero a mi hombre de corazón. En un bulín mistongo del arrabal porteño, lo conocí en un sueño, le di mi corazón. Supe que era malevo, lo quise con locura, sufrí por su ventura con santa devoción. Ahora, aunque me faje, purrete arrabalero, ya sabe que lo quiero con toda mi ilusión, y que soy toda suya, que suyo es mi cariño, que nuestro será el niño obra del metejón. Por ser derecha tengo un machito arrabalero de Puente Alsina; se juega entero por esta mina porque la sabe de corazón. Pero si un día llega a engañarme como hacen otros con sus mujeres, esta percanta que ríe y canta llorará sangre por su traición.

I’m the craziest chick*  that ever spent her life in this suburb;  I’m the broad who was the lover  of that thief who stole her heart.* I’m the pride of all the barrio, my hope is my religion,* because I’m creole, I'm milonguera,*  I love my man with all my heart. In a wretched little room  out by the city limits I met him in a dream, I gave him my heart. I knew he was a thief, I loved him madly, I suffered for his happiness with saintly devotion. Now, although he beats me, my arrabal guy, he knows that I still love him  with all my heart, and that I’m all his, that he's got my affection, that ours will be a child born of great passion. I'll tell you straight, I've got a sweet  macho arrabalero from Puente Alsina;*  he's betting everything on this gal because he knows her from his heart. But if one day he starts to cheat on me like others do to their women, this broad who laughs and sings will cry blood at his betrayal.*

* craziest chick: La pebeta mas rechiflada. Pebeta is Lunfardo slang for "girl, gal, chick, babe." In Lunfardo the adjective rechiflada has a wide range of meanings including "crazy," "mad," "disturbed," "perturbed," or "angry." But the verb rechiflar also means "to whistle loudly," in which case it could mean "whistled at." Which interpretation is correct? It's hard to say. There's something to be said for "whistled at," since by this assertion our proud arrabalera is bragging about her high standing in the arrabal; "crazy, mad" is implied, too. The sheet music for Anselmo Aieta's 1927 instrumental tango La chiflada depicts a beautiful though possibly somewhat deranged young lady; a male passerby is seen in the act of whistling at her. However, contemporary porteños of my acquaintance hear the word rechiflada as "crazy." So I went with that.

* stole her heart: la amuró. The verb amurar has many meanings. Here, "to cause someone to fall head over heels in love."

* hope: efe, slang for fé, "faith." This is an example of Vesre slang, in which the letters of a word are reversed, transposed, or otherwise reordered.

* creole, milonguera: Criolla (f.), a European-descended native of Latin America, originally one of pure Spanish descent. Milonguera, a female patron of milongas, a tango dancer.

* Puente Alsina: Refers to the barrio of Nueva Pompeya, especially the vicinity of the The Alsina Bridge which crosses the Riachuelo, connecting SáenzAvenue in the city of Buenos Aires with the barrio of Valentín Alsina in the province. Nueva Pompeya identified as a typical barrio de tango in many tangos including El Choclo, Barrio de tango, Sur, and Puente Alsina by Benjamin Tagle Lara, recorded by the Orquesta Típica Victor as an instrumental in 1927 and by Osvaldo Pugliese with singer Jorge Vidal in 1949.

* will cry blood: llorará sangre. Gardel and Oscar Larocca both sang the lukewarm llorará siempre ("will cry forever"). The far more passionate llorará sangre, "will cry tears of blood," or simply "will cry blood," seems to have been Nina Miranda's innovation, and Durán sings it that way, too.

 

 

The Palermo Palace Dossier, Exhibit 5 (Demare, Troilo, Tanturi, 30 May 1943)

Quite a lineup! Demare with Berón today; Troilo with Fiorentino & Marino tomorrow; and Tanturi with Castillo on Tuesday.

"Mireya, darling, aren't you glad we decided to live in Palermo? We can walk to and from all these dances! And you get in free!"

[El Mundo, 29 May 1943]

The Palermo Palace Dossier, Exhibit 4 (Ciriaco Ortiz, 30 December 1943)

Seminal bandeonista and bandleader Ciriaco Ortiz (here referred to as "The Captain of Tango") appeared often at the Palermo Palace. This ad is from 30 December, 1943.

CAPTAIN OF TANGO
Fronting The Orchestra of Orchestras - Exclusive Starting 1st of January

PALERMO PALACE - Godoy Cruz and Santa Fe
Gentlemen $1. Ladies Free

Today, Evening and Night
Ciriaco ORTIZ and Ery MAESTRO

The Palermo Palace Dossier, Exhibit 3

Click to enlarge.

El Mundo, 18 July 1942.

PALERMO PALACE

Family-style Dances Every Night and Sunday Afternoon

Godoy Cruz and S. Fe - 72-2425GENTLEMEN, $1.--  LADIES FREE

JAZZ SÁNCHEZ CODECÁ

Tango Orchestra of Angel D'AGOSTINO
Singer A. VARGAS

The Palermo Palace Dossier, Exhibit 2

El Mundo, Thursday, January 1, 1942, page 25.

PALERMO PALACE
Godoy Cruz corner Santa Fe  72-2425

Today from 10 p.m. to 4 a.m.

2--Grand Debuts--2
JUAN CANARO
Eddie Milton And His Boys
DANCES every NIGHT

Gentlemen, $1.00  Ladies Free

The Palermo Palace Dossier, Exhibit 1

Palermo Palace, at the corner of Godoy Cruz and Santa Fe, was a key tango venue during the 1940s. I don't have any real data about the place itself, but it was advertised regularly in El Mundo. Over the next few weeks we'll collect some of the ads from Palermo Palace, and see what we can learn about the place that way.

If you're reading this any you have any specific knowledge about Palermo Palace, please share it in the Comments or on Tango Time Machine on Facebook. Thanks! 

"And one more time, starting 1 January 1944."

The Palermo Palaces

I've featured photos of this unique Buenos Aires apartment building (top and middle) in several posts, but I never realized that the building is a direct architectural quotation, instantly recognizable to anyone who knows Palermo, Italy. Scroll down to see the courtyard and facade of the Royal Palace, Palermo, Italy (bottom). I just happened to see it on the net. The proportions are quite different, but the resemblance is startling!

(The Buenos Aires palace is in Montserrat, on the Avenida Entre Ríos, at the numbers shown.)

Be there or be square....!

Don Osvaldo Pugliese with the jazz band called Marahuana. September 16, 1944. The two acts are divided to make it clear that Pugliese recorded for Discos Odeon, and Marahuana didn't.

Miguel Caló, Romantic (1944)

Miguel Caló with two new songs on Odeon Records. El Mundo Dance Guide, 29 April 1944. 

Text reads: "Miguel Caló and his Orquesta Típica in a new hit BOHARDILLA, tango R. Blasi [and] H. Sanguinetti; LA VI LLEGAR tango E. M. Francini [and] J. Centeya. Recorded on Discos Odeon. Disc No. 8387."

Oddly it doesn't mention the singer, Raúl Iriarte.

Note the Odeon Records logo, upper left. This was one of its first appearances in the El Mundo Dance Guide.

Sad Story, Happy Ending.... (March 1943)

A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN RAN AWAY FROM HOME

...because they wouldn't let her go to the carnaval dances at "My Club." Thanks to the timely intervention of EMILIO ORLANDO and VICTOR D'AMARIO and their orchestras, who kindly hurried to her aid, they succeeded in getting her back home again, but with the promise that she would return every night of carnaval to "My Club," on the arm of her sweetheart. Since she was afraid she might lose her way, she asked for it and they gave her a card that read like so:

"MI CLUB" - Moreno 2967, the best of carnaval 

Pedro Maffia at Tibidabo

12 December 1942. Seminal bandoneonist, bandleader, and composer Pedro Maffia was very active with his own orchestra throughout 1942 and '43. The Tibidabo nightclub was a regular gig. Large ads like this often appeared on the page preceding or following the Dance Guide.

Scenes from a musician's life, 1942

"By that time [Buenos Aires, 1942], it was common for performances of live music to enliven the evening and nighttime soirees in a sort of continuum of tango and jazz: "la típica y la jazz". More complementary than rivals, orchestras and bands would race from here to there, always against the clock, along a route that might start with a recording session at midday, continue with performances at a centrally located dance hall, and end at a radio station or some nightspot. There were also tours of the interior as well as the summer season, with the massive migration of orchestras to the coastal areas: Mar del Plata was the most frequent port of call--there [jazz guitarist] Oscar [Alemán] had his artistic routines, interrupted only when he traveled to Brazil or Uruguay--especially from 1946 on, with the flurry of social and recreational programs inspired by Peronism.

"In any case, social dance was the most popular, well-attended activity. There were dances everywhere, but especially at the social and sports clubs in the barrios and in the nightclubs in the city center. From Thursday to Sunday there were numerous opportunities to dance, but even in the first days of the week one could find places in which to try out new steps or simply hang out in groups of couples or in a familiar setting." (from Oscar Alemán, La guitarra embrujada, Editorial Planeta, Buenos Aires 2015, p. 182)

El Mundo, 5 May 1944.
Original source: Tango Decoder

"Oscar used to leave the Gong [jazz club] very late and go walking with his guitar along the Calle Florida toward the pension on Calle Suipacha where [his girlfriend] Carmen lived. She'd wake up whistling Hombre mío ("My Man"). Then she'd go out to eat with him minutes before Sibarita's kitchen closed. Sometimes they'd come across D'Arienzo and Troilo, who were regulars at the same restaurant." (ibid., p. 206)

[Translated by Tango Decoder]

QUE ME QUITEN LO BAILAO: They can't take away the fun I've had!

El Turco bailando con rubia. Obelisco Tango, Buenos Aires, April 2015. Photo Copyright © by Michael Krugman, 2015. All Rights Reserved.

A couple of months ago, Tango Decoder featured a 1945 ad for the "Surcos del Disco" milonga with the headline "QUE ME QUITEN LO BAILAO," which means literally, "let them take away what I've danced," and figuratively, "they can't take away the dances/fun I've had." At the time, one of TD's commenters suggested I translate the song by the same name. I never got around to it.

Yesterday a friend of mine, a composer, had one of those big-number birthdays yesterday, and his friends threw a grand garden party for him. I wanted to do something nice to honor him, and I happened to think again of the song, which turned out to be nearly perfect for him. He's not a drinker and a gambler like the narrator, but he's definitely taken some risks in his life, he's an avid milonguero. I did a quick adaptation of the lyrics and bingo, I had the perfect tanguero's tribute, which I read aloud for all assembled. It was a hit! "Que me quiten lo bailao!"

Here's my English version of the lyric followed by the original Spanish as given by TodoTango.com. There are a bunch of vids down there, too--Tanturi's version of the song with Castillo; Canaro's with Carlos Roldán; and D'Arienzo's with Laborde; and Leopoldo Federico's with Julio Sosa. The lyrics are sightly different in each one. Canaro's version was recorded first, in '42, and the lyrics are quite close to the text. Tanturi's was recorded on 29 April 1943, and its lyrics differ considerably. They may have been affected in advance by the Law of Good Speech that came into force with the military coup of 4 June. It seems that quite a few orchestras self-censored in anticipation of the new rules which were circulated in advance of the decree. If anyone is interested in compiling the precise differences between the various versions, let me know. Maybe we can collaborate!

QUE ME QUITEN LO BAILAO
(They can't take away the fun I've had)
Tango, 1942
Words and music by Miguel Bucino
TD's English-language version dedicated to Nadama Novak.

Generous to men, affectionate with women,
I’ve got two wild passions: gambling and champagne.
Obsession with the milonga, fierce love of pleasure,
sometimes I’m a big shot and other times I’m broke.
What am I to do, brother? If it’s the gift of destiny!
If my eagerness to get rich has never been my strong suit!*
Bubbles and women’s eyes have driven me wild
ever since those sweet days of my youth.

But I don’t regret
letting go of all that dough
that I wasted in life.*
I had everything I wanted...
and even enjoyed a few things
that I prefer not to discuss.
My behavior was always calm,
I was lavish with praise
and shrunk from blame.
I was a tycoon and a vagabond
and now I leave so much to the world
that I can make a joke about it.*

If some refused my hand, others were more cordial,
some lips were sweet, others tasted of gall,
but I always had the guts to weather the storm
and like a wolf among the foxes, I left my mark.
What am I to do, brother, if I was born to die broke,
with a tango on my lips and a handful of lousy cards?
I play, I sing, I drink, I laugh...
and though I haven’t got a penny to my name,
when the bell tolls the final hour... They can't take away what I've danced!
They can’t take away the fun I've had!

NOTES:

* my eagerness to get rich: el afán de hacer el paco. None of the recorded versions include the lunfardism, el paco, meaning "silver" and by extension, "money."

* letting go of all that dough that I wasted in life: haber dado curso al vento
que en la vida derroché. All the recorded versions of the song give this line as aquellos lindos momentos que en la vida disfruté, "those beautiful moments that I enjoyed in my life."

* I leave so much to the world that I can make a joke about it: The narrator is being ruefully ironic.

Mano abierta con los hombres, querendón con las mujeres,
tengo dos pasiones bravas: el tapete y el champán...
Berretín con la milonga, metejón con los placeres,
unas veces ando pato y otras veces soy bacán.
¿Qué querés que le haga, hermano? ¡Si es regalo del destino!
¡Si el afán de hacer el paco nunca ha sido mi virtud!
Me electrizan las burbujas y los ojos femeninos
¡desde aquellos dulces días de mi alegre juventud!

Pero yo no me arrepiento
de haber dado curso al vento
que en la vida derroché.
Tuve todo lo que quise...
y hasta lo que yo no quiero
la cuestión que disfruté.
Mi conducta fue serena,
yo fui pródigo en la buena
y en la mala me encogí.
Fui magnate y vagabundo
y hoy lo sobré tanto al mundo
que le puedo dar changüí.

Si unas manos me fallaron, otras fueron más cordiales,
unos labios fueron dulces, otras veces como hiel,
pero siempre tuve agallas pa' capear los temporales
y de lobo, entre los zorros, al pasar hice cartel.
Qué querés que le haga, hermano, si nací pa' morir pobre,
con un tango entre los labios y en un tute entreverao.
Juego, canto, bebo, río...
y aunque no me quede un cobre,
al sonar la última hora... ¡que me quiten lo bailao!

 

 

Subtitled Tango #26: Arrabalera ("Arrabal Gal")

FROM OUR "WOMEN'S VOICES, WOMEN'S LIVES" COLLECTION

Here's a followup to the Libertad Lamarque song, Loca, that we explored last week. This time, we hear from another much-loved Argentine songbird, Tita Merello, with her performance of the song Arrabalera from the 1951 film by the same name....

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More songs from our "Women's Voices, Women's Lives" Collection:

ARRABALERO • CASCABELITO • ISABELITA • LA PIBA DE LOS JASMINES • LOCA • DECILE QUE VUELVA • MONEDA DE COBRE • MUÑECA BRAVA

---

The narrator of Arrabalera has a powerful message to deliver. She wants us to know that she's a strong woman who's not afraid to express herself freely, and she's very proud of her roots, her status in her community, and her tango-dancing ability! At the same time, it seems she's a bit lonely, since she has yet to find her romantic counterpart. But she hasn't given up....not at all!

Of Merello, Matthew Karush has written, "Among the most iconic stars of the Perón era was Tita Merello, who typically played a humble woman from a poor neighborhood who refuses to submit to male authority. Her characters do not transgress traditional gender roles--they are often hyper-protective mothers--but they do stand up to alcoholic, profligate, or abusive husbands. Moreover, in her successful career as a tango-singer, Merello created a distinctive persona that did upend gender expectations. Her low voice and her habit of combining singing with talking evoked a more masculine tango style. Even more unusual, she described herself as ugly, thereby explicitly rejecting the stratagem of the milonguita who gets ahead by virtue of attracting men.... The working-class pride asserted by Merello's characters is very much in the tradition created by such stars as Carlos Gardel, Luis Sandrini, and Nini Marshall, even if she tended to express that pride more cynically." (Culture of Class: Radio and Cinema in the Making of a Divided Argentina, 1920-1946, Duke University Press, Durham and London, 2012. Pp. 191-192.)

As our regular readers will certainly know, the word arrabal describes the outlying areas of Buenos Aires where, during the 19th and early 20th centuries, working people, many of them recent immigrants or people of color, lived in crowded, unsanitary living conditions with muddy streets and plenty of violence. But even so, many, many tangos speak longingly of the arrabal.

An arrabalera, then, is nothing more than a girl or woman of the arrabal. But the song's punchy music and lyrics, Merello's witty delivery, and a surprisingly funky backing band make it clear that this arrabalera is a whole lot more. In fact, the narrator accords herself a kind of royal status, presenting herself as a veritable "princess of the arrabal". To me the effect, though comical, is quite compelling. See what you think.

Face-to-face text in Spanish and English follow the video. Engish-language version by Michael Krugman.

ARRABALERA (Arrabal gal)*
Tango, 1950
Music: Sebastián Piana
Lyrics: Cátulo Castillo

Mi casa fue un corralón de arrabal bien proletario, papel de diario el pañal, del cajón en que me crié... Para mostrar mi blasón, pedigree modesto y sano. ¡Oiga, che!... ¡Presénteme... ¡Soy Felisa Roverano, tanto gusto, no hay de que!... ¡Arrabalera, como flor de enredadera que creció en el callejón! ¡Arrabalera, yo soy propia hermana entera de Chiclana y compadrón!... Si me gano el morfi diario, qué me importa el diccionario ni el hablar con distinción. Levo un sello de nobleza, soy porteña de una pieza, tengo voz de bandoneón. Si se le da la ocasión, de bailar un tango arrespe, encrespe su corazón, de varón sentimental. Y al revolear mi percal, márqueme su firulete, que en el brete musical se conoce, la gran siete, mi prosapia de arrabal.

My home was a tenement in a real working-class slum, my diaper, the newspaper that lined the crate I grew in.... To show off my coat of arms, my dainty good breeding, “Hey, listen up!... Allow me to introduce myself!... I’m Felisa Roverano, The pleasure’s mine! Don’t mention it!”  Arrabal gal! Like a morning glory that grew in the alleyway! Arrabal gal! I am a right and proper sister of Chiclana,* and I’m not afraid to brag!* If I’m earning my daily grub, what good is a dictionary or fancy talk? I wear a badge of nobility, I’m porteña through and through, I’ve got the voice of a bandoneón. If he gets the chance to dance one lousy tango...* it might ruffle the heart of a romantic guy... And while giving my skirt a twirl, he’d lead me in his fancy footwork, so that in the musical realm he's bound to recognize, by gosh,* my arrabal ancestry.

* Arrabal gal: Arrabalera. The word arrabal describes the outlying areas of Buenos Aires where, during the 19th and early 20th centuries, working people, many of them recent immigrants or people of color, lived in crowded, unsanitary living conditions with muddy streets and plenty of violence. But even so, many, many tangos speak lovingly and longingly of the arrabal.

* Chiclana: A reference to the Avenida Chiclana area in the Buenos Aires barrio of Boedo. As Carlos Gardel sang, “Sos de Chiclana, no hay nada que hacer, tu pedigré es del más puro arrabal...” [“You’re from Chiclana, there’s nothing more to say, your lineage is the purest of the arrabal....”] (Sos de Chiclana, 1927). A street in the present-day neighborhood is named after Cátullo Castillo, the author of this lyric.

* not afraid to brag: Compadrón is a Lunfardo word meaning a braggart or a loudmouth. Thus the phrase, "yo soy propia hermana entera de Chiclana y compadrón!..." literally means "I'm a proper full-sister of Chiclana (see previous note), and a braggart/loudmouth."

* lousy: arrespe, Lunf., extravagant, badly made, defective.

* by gosh: la gran siete. An all-purpose expletive, of uncertain origin.

Good Morning, Buenos Aires: Where will you dance tonight?

September 2, 1944: Dancers, get ready to make some tough choices! On this Saturday morning in Buenos Aires, El Mundo newspaper's "Dance Guide" contains 28 ads for shows by some of the greatest names in tango, including the orchestras of Demare, Troilo, Caló, Tanturi, Pugliese, D'Agostino, Biagi, Donato, and Di Sarli, plus free-range singers Fiorentino, Rufino, and Castillo. 

The sponsoring entities consist overwhelmingly of clubes sociales y deportivos--sports and social clubs--many of them associated with football teams like River Plate, Chacarita Juniors, and Atlanta. So be prepared to dance on basketball courts, handball courts, or even football fields converted to pistas for the evening! Some of these floors might be able to accommodate several thousand dancers. For those who prefer a more focused atmosphere without all the hoopla of a live show, there are a couple of bailes con grabaciones (dances with recorded music), too. Choose wisely! You are making history....

FIORENTINO: THE MAN OF THE MOMENT

This second day of September, 1944, is a crucial one for singer and pop-idol Francisco Fiorentino. He's left Troilo's orchestra, done a brief stint with Troilo pianist Orlando Goñi, and is about to debut a new band of his own directed by Troilo arranger and bandoneonista Astor Piazzola. This morning's Dance Guide carries a modest ad for the band's debut at the Circulo Almagro (see below), but Fiore and his friends have taken a larger, bolder ad (right) leaving no room for doubt that he is the man of the moment, and forever after. The text reads:

"HE'S HERE! WITH HIS FRIENDS AND SUPPORTERS / THE VOICE OF FIORENTINO AND HIS GRAND ORQUESTA TÍPICA / DIRECTED BY ASTOR PIAZZOLA / STARTING TODAY TO BRING HIS GREATEST HITS TO ALL THE BARRIOS OF BUENOS AIRES"

A NEW LOOK

Plain text, September, 1944

Reverse type, May 1943

Hand-lettered with filligree, December 1943

As you may have noticed, the ads from the Dance Guide of September 1944 (Tanturi, right) look very different from those from early and mid-1943. The dense, older style of "black bar" reverse type (D'Arienzo, middle) is gone, and so is the fancy hand-drawn display lettering, with its intimations of the arrabal (Di Sarli, bottom). The typefaces are limited to a few contemporary fonts. There are no decorative borders, no graphic flourishes to break the monotony. Judging by the consistency of style, all the ads seem to have been designed in-house, by the newspaper's art department rather than the several different agencies that once vied for the readers' attention, each with its own visual style. Was this an aesthetic decision by the paper? Censorship by the military regime? The result of wartime shortages of ink, paper, lead, or photographic supplies? Cost-cutting, technical challenges, or something else? More research is needed...

ODEON RECORDS RULES THE ROOST 

The logo of Odeon Records depicts the dome of Paris's  Odeon Theatre.

We are are now at the height of the "Odeon logo" period of the Dance Guide, a seven-month stretch (May-November 1944) when ads for artists signed to the Discos Odeon label are often distinguished by a big, bold company logo with the legend, "[This artist] records for Odeon Records," effectively turning El Mundo's weekend Dance Guide into a fever-chart of the record company's enviable market saturation. (Virtually all orchestras recorded for either Odeon or Victor at this time.)

It's not clear why the logos suddenly start cropping up in May 1944, but it appears to be a deliberate branding strategy by the label. I suspect that Odeon subsidizes the ads in return for the placement. The logos do not appear consistently. Consider, for example, that the ad for the Troilo-Bertolín pairing at Oeste Argentino (right) bears the Odeon logo, while an ad on the facing page for the same bill appearing tomorrow at the Círculo General Urquiza does not. Some BCGs (bailes con grabaciones, dances with recorded music only) also bear the Odeon logo, and promise "the latest recordings from Odeon Records." (That sounds nice, but I hope they were allowed to play some Victor records, too. A dance without D'Agostino, D'Arienzo, Di Sarli, Tanturi or Troilo would be a sad affair, wouldn't it?)

That Odeon logo presents a tricky problem, since artists who record for the label often appear in the same ad with others who don't. In that case, the ad is divided in half like a butterfly bandage, as is the case with Trolio (who recorded for Victor) and Washington-Bertolín (Odeon). Same goes for this ad for Fiorentino (currently unaffiliated; he doesn't sign with Odeon until May '45) and Malerba (who records for Odeon). These "butterfly" layouts must be a major headache for El Mundo's typesetters! It will take the paper another two months to find a remedy....

"Carmen Duval: An extraordinary performer for an extraordinary tango. Hear her today at 13:05 on Radio El Mundo in: ME ESTAN SOBRANDO LAS PENAS ('Sorrrow is all I have left') by Basso, Galvan, and Bahr.

RADIO "EL MUNDO" HIGHLIGHTS

• Military march: 7.30
• Happy music: 8
• Típica D’Arienzo: 11.36, 12.15, 13.05, 13.40
• Carmen Duval: 11, 11:45, 13.05, 13.40
• Típica Sebastian Piana: 15:15, 16:15, 17, 17:45
• Típica O. Fresedo: 19, 20, 21
• End of transmission, military march: 0.35

Something new to me: Judging by this schedule, it appears that the orchestras and other musical artists, who appeared on the radio under contract, were required to put in something more than two hours on the station's sound stage, and to play at intervals during that period. That suggests that each appearance required something like three hours of an orchestra's time, with allowance for setting up, tuning, and packing up.

IN THE HEADLINES

What's on the front page this second morning of September, 1944? War news, with the Allies making some real progress three months after the Normandy invasion.

• THE SOVIETS ARE AT THE FRONTIER OF BULGARIA

• THE STRUGGLE IN FRANCE IS OVER: DIEPPE AND VERDUN UNDER ALLIED CONTROL

• RAPID PROGRESS TOWARD METZ

• THE NAZI FRONT HAS DISAPPEARED

FOR YOUR ADDRESS BOOK:

• Círculo Almagro (Triunvirato 4330, Villa Crespo)

• Club Atlético Chacarita Juniors (Teodoro Garcia 2885, Colegiales)

• Independiente (Av. Mitre 450, Avellaneda)

• Palermo Palace (Godoy Cruz and Santa Fe, Palermo)

• Club Atlanta (Humboldt 540, Villa Crespo)

 

 

 

 

"Loca" Talks!

We've all seen that terrific video of Juan D'Arienzo's orchestra performing an instrumental version of "Loca" for Uruguayan TV in the 60s. It's top-notch, high-energy tango music and a priceless documentation of one of tango's greatest orchestras.

But what about the song itself? It had lyrics once upon a time, when it was composed in 1922 and recorded by Carlos Gardel, and they're powerful. They tell the sad tale of a young woman from the provinces who runs away to Buenos Aires and gets trapped in the sex trade.

The song was also performed by Libertad Lamarque in Luis Buñuel's 1947 film, Gran Casino. (Not to be confused with La Loca, another Lamarque vehicle directed by Miguel Zacarías in '52.) Lamarque's performance is seen below, with subtitles by Tango Decoder and our side-by-side full-text Spanish-English translation. I think you'll agree, the song has a strong emotional punch and Lamarque makes the most of it. The performance could easily have lapsed into melodrama, but I don't think it does. It's strong stuff, though.

(NOTE: If you do not see the subtitles at the start of the video, please click the "CC" button on the control strip at the bottom of the YouTube screen to toggles subtitles "on.")

By the way, the word loca means an emotionally unbalanced female, a crazy woman, but it's also a slightly less blunt way of saying "prostitute" or "whore," which is clearly what is meant here. I chose the word "tramp" as a translation because, like the Spanish word loca, it's a word with a double meaning. It could have been "trollop," "harlot," or "slut," but "tramp" seemed closest in feel to the original. See if you don't agree.

LOCA (Tramp)
Tango, 1922
Words: Manuel Jovés
Music: Antonio Vergol

Spanish-English translation by Tango Decoder:

Loca, me llaman mis amigos, que sólo son testigos de mi liviano amor. Loca... ¿Qué saben lo que siento, ni qué remordimiento se oculta en mi interior? Yo tengo, con alegrías, que disfrazar mi tristeza, y que hacer de mi cabeza las pesadillas huir. Yo tengo que ahogar en copas la pena que me devora... Cuando mi corazón llora, mis labios deben reír. Yo, si a un hombre lo desprecio, tengo que fingirle amores; y admiración, cuando es necio; y si es cobarde, temores. Yo que no he pertenecido al ambiente en que ahora estoy, he de olvidar lo que he sido y he de olvidar lo que soy. Loca, me dicen mis amigos, que sólo son testigos de mi liviano amor. Loca, ¿Qué saben lo que siento, ni qué remordimiento se oculta en mi interior? Allá muy lejos, muy lejos, donde el sol cae cada día, un tranquilo hogar había y en el hogar unos viejos. La vida y su encanto era una muchacha que huyó sin decirles dónde fuera... y esa muchacha soy yo. Ya no existe más la casa, ya no existen más los viejos y una muchacha muy lejos, sufriendo la vida pasa. Y al caer todos los días en aquella tierra el sol, caen con él mis alegrías y muere mi corazón.

Tramp, they call me, my friends, they who see only my easy virtue. Tramp... What do they know of what I feel Or what terrible remorse Is hidden inside of me. I have to disguise my sadness with gaiety and make my worries flee from my mind. I have to drown in drink the sorrow that devours me.... When my heart weeps My lips have to laugh. Though I despise a man, I have to pretend to love him; to admire him if he’s a fool; and to fear him if he’s a coward. I wasn’t always part of this scene I’m in now, so I have to forget what I have been and forget what I am. Tramp, they call me, my friends, they who see only my easy virtue. Tramp... How can they know who I am Or what remorse Is hidden inside of me? There, far, far away Where the sun sets each day, There was a peaceful home And in that home, some old folks. Their life and their darling was a girl who ran away Without saying where she was going... And that girl was me. Today that house no longer exists. Today those old folks no longer exist Today the girl, far away, Passes her life in suffering. And as the sun sinks each day In that land, My happiness sinks with it And my heart dies.

The Great Orlando Goñi Ripoff...!

Early June

At the beginning of June this year, when I was just starting to collect the source material for Tango Time Machine, I made a quick survey of the El Mundo newspaper just to get oriented. First I checked some issues from January, June, and December of 1940 and '41, satisfying myself that there was only sporadic tango/dance advertising during those years. I figured I'd come back to those issues at some later date, and collect what few ads there were.

Next I checked I checked in '42, and I found that there was a steady progression over the course of the year. The El Mundo "Dance Guides" seem to have originated at some point in late 1941 or early '42, although I'm not yet sure of the precise date, and increased in density throughout the course of 1943. (In a June '42 issue, I found the charming display ad for Juan D'Arienzo, the Chanteceler Cabaret, and various brands of booze, as seen at the right.)

As the weeks and months of '43 went by, little clusters of two, four, or six small, smudgy tango ads gradually expanded to fill half of one page, then half of two facing pages. By December, there were one or two full pages of ads on Saturdays and Sundays, and smaller numbers during the week, too. The "Dance Guide" was in full flower.

During that first reconnaissance of the material, I noticed something odd about the Wednesday, December 1, 1943 edition of the paper. On the radio page, below the Trik y Trake cartoon strip, below the schedule of the day's programming on Radio El Mundo, a space which might typically have been the location for two or three mid-week tango ads, the bottom third of the page was torn out of the book. Above the tear, I could see the upper portion of a three-column display ad announcing an appearance by seminal bandoneonist and bandleader Ciriaco Ortiz. It was the first time I'd noticed any torn pages like that. It made me sad, first of all because it seemed that someone had defaced this valuable primary source material, and second because Ciriaco Ortiz is an important figure in tango history. The ad had a big photo of him opposite a photo of a trumpet or a cornet, probably an emblem of the accompanying jazz act, and I would have liked to see it. At the time, I didn't think more of it than that. I snapped a picture with my phone, and I moved on. For all I knew, there could be many torn pages like that.

Late August

Over the last couple of days, I've been collecting material about Orlando Goñi, the "evolutionary" pianist who left his indelible signature on the Troilo orchestra from its beginnings until September 1943. After being fired by Troilo, Goñi formed his own orchestra; it debuted at the legendary Cafe El Nacional on December 1 of that same year. (Michael Lavocah gives an excellent account of the Trolio-Goñi partnership and subsequent parting in his indispensable book, Tango Masters: Aníbal Troilo.) 

As I followed Goñi's solo career via in the pages of the El Mundo Dance Guide, I was struck by how much publicity Goñi's new band had received. I saw an ad trumpeting the famous assertion that 25,000 people had come to hear Goñi's band in the first two weeks at El Nacional. And I saw many subsequent ads for gigs he'd played (or perhaps in some cases not played...) with a succession of singers during the year 1944: Rodriguez Lesende, Aldao and Cabrera, Alfredo Castell, Fiorentino himself, and lastly, Raúl Berón. Some of those ads were relatively small, but many, many of them were "anchor" ads, that is, over-sized, five-column ads spanning the full width of El Mundo's "Dance Guide," at the very bottom of the page where no one could possibly miss them. Here's an example:

Here's the page with the upper slice of the Ciriaco Ortiz ad, the torn edge below. I've pasted in a large Goñi ad,  placed in the probable position of the announcement of Goñi's debut at El Nacional. December 1, 1943.

There were ads for gigs at El Nacional, the Palermo Palace, the Empire cabaret, the Prince George Hall, Flores Que Surgen, Barracas Central, Club Sol de America, Club S. y Sp. Buenos Aires and others--culminating on 14 December '44 with a show held at the headquarters of the Chacarita Juniors football club: vocals by Berón; supporting act, El Rey del Swing, jazz guitarist Oscar Alemán. After that, the trail goes cold, and so, I'm afraid, does Orlando Goñi. He died in Montevideo on 5 February 1945, aged 31. A very sad end to a brilliant career....

I tracked Goñi's movements right up to the last, but the one thing I could not find, alas, was the announcement of the Goñi band's premier at the El Nacional. Certainly, judging by the countless pesos spent on subsequent advertising of the orchestra, there ought to have been some notice on the day of its very first gig. Let's see, when would that have been? (Consults Michael Lavocah's book once again...) Oh, yes, the first day of December, 1943.

Then I remembered that tantalizing Ciriaco Ortiz ad on the radio page, also from December 1, 1943, its placement on the page, and the big rip where something had been torn out. There was room for something else below it, something big and wide. It could even have been one of those five-column "anchor" ads...

Now that I've given it some thought, I'm quite certain: that's where the announcement of Goñi's debut would have been. I'm also quite certain that someone tore it out. Who? Why? When? I've no idea. It might have happened early on, on the day of the performance itself, or while the newspaper was still on open shelves. Or it might have happened more recently, since the time the old papers were bound in monthly volumes. On thing I definitely plan to check is whether the microfilm version of this page is complete, or not.

There the story ends, rather anticlimactically, I'm afraid. But it's been my experience that stories like this, simply by virtue of being told, have a way of revealing their own endings if one waits long enough. So let's just sit on this one for a while, and see what emerges.... Who knows, maybe one of our readers already knows the answer!

 

 

 

At Troilo's Elbow: Oscar Aleman

The orquestas típicas of tango's Golden Age usually shared the stage with an accompanying act, more often than not a jazzband, in alternating sets lasting about half an hour. A complete list of Argentine jazzbands of the period would be a very long one, but the short list must certainly include Washington-Bertolín, Barry Moral, Eduardo Muratore, Al Black, Joe Starr, Joe Rispoli, Fredy Caló, and Adolfo Veneziani.

[Photo: "Radio "El Mundo" has just made a valuable acquisition by adding to its cast the jazz guitarist and bandleader Oscar Alemán, who will appear at our microphones for the month of March." 27 January 1944.]

Of those Argentine jazz players whose music is known to us, the finest is the Afro-Argentine guitarist Oscar Alemán. He held the unique distinction of being not merely a homegrown Argentine talent, but also a direct participant in American and European avant-garde jazz. During a ten-year residence in Paris (1930-40), he played with Duke Ellington's band, jammed with fellow guitar wizard Django Reinhardt, and was a much-favored soloist, dancer, and master of ceremonies with Josephine Baker's orchestra. Other Argentine jazz players learned jazz by listening to records. Oscar Alemán learned it at the source.

No stranger to tango, Oscar had given his first mature performances as half of Les Loups, a duo with Brazilian Hawaiian-guitar exponent, Gastón Buen Lobo. Their first recordings were a "tango-milonga" titled Hawayanita and a vals, Criollito, both 1928. Soon after, Les Loups were contracted by Adolfo Carabelli, director of the Orquesta Típica Victor, to form the Trio Victor with tango's greatest violinist, Elvino Vardaro. Oscar's Buenos Aires circle of friends included Augustín Magaldi, Enrique Santos Discépolo, and the left-wing journalist Dante A. Linyera, editor of La Canción Moderna.

An Oscar Alemán playlist on YouTube.

Returning to Buenos Aires from Nazi-occupied Paris in 1940 with his French wife Malou, a gifted jazz singer in her own right--the couple arrived with 85 pesos to their name--Oscar found work in Buenos Aires's jazz clubs, on Radio El Mundo, and in the dance halls where tango was king and jazz, a visiting dignitary. While his appearances in the tango scene were not an everyday occurrence like those of Washington-Bertolín or Barry Moral, he shared the stage at one time or another with just about every major tango orchestra. Though he played in a variety of clubs, Oscar seems to have been especially popular with the organizers of the Club Santa Fe and the Círculo General Urquiza. For those of us who have danced at the present-day Palermo tango club "Villa Malcolm," it's great fun to imagine Oscar trading sets with Rodolfo Biagi in that very room!

We hope you enjoy this gallery of Oscar Alemán sightings from the El Mundo newspaper Dance Guide. Photo source: Tango Time Machine.

Dates, top down, are: 5 May 1944 (w/ Troilo); 15 January 1944 (w/ Laurenz); 12 October 1944 (w/ Troilo, Lagna Fietta, and Di Sarli); 8 July 1943 (w/D'Agostino); 14 May 1944 (w/ Biagi); 10 September 1933 (solo at Floresta Juniors).

[Biographical data in this article is from Oscar Alemán: Guitarra Embrujada by Sergio Pujol, Editorial Planeta, Buenos Aires 2015. Highly recommended!]