CORNETIN: Blasts from the past

Cornetín (The Cornet)*
Tango, 1942
Music: Pedro Maffia
Lyrics: Homero Manzi/Cátulo Castillo

This charming period piece takes us back to the late 19th or very early 20th century when Buenos Aires streetcars were still pulled by teams of horses. A somewhat girl-crazy streetcar driver by the name of Roque Barullo blows merrily on his cornet, hoping to attract the attention of any cute girl who might happen to step out of her doorway as he passes. There's more to it than that, but I don't want to spoil the fun for you!

Lyrics are by two towering giants of tango poetry, Homero Manzi (this is the sixth of his songs decoded here; the others are NINGUNA, ARRABAL, LA GAYOLA, VENTARRÓN, and ORGANITO DE LA TARDE), and Catúlo Castillo, author of ESTAMPA FEDERAL and many other great tangos. The song's composer Pedro Maffia needs no introduction. Suffice it to say he's one of the greatest tango musicians of all time, "the idol," according to Pedro Laurenz. The song was written for the 1942 film Eclipse de sol. 

By the way, the film (see clip below) presents a deliberately idealized, comical, but quite charming arrabal street scene; the canny viewer will notice a stereotypical compadrito leaning against the corner of a building in the background! And: Is it just me, or does anyone think Libertad Lamarque in closeup looks remarkably like Julie Andrews? Uncanny.

On YouTube:
Roberto Grela w/ Nelly Omar (TD's favorite—not danceable, but terrific singing and guitar!)
Carlos Di Sarli w/ Roberto Rufino 
Francisco Canaro w/ Roberto Roldán 
Libertad Lamarque: "Cornetín" (from the 1942 film Eclipse de sol)

At Tango.info

Tará, Tarí! Lo apelan Roque Barullo*   conductor del Nacional. Con su tramway, sin cuarta ni cinchón, sabe cruzar el barrancón de Cuyo. El cornetín, colgado de un piolín, y en el ojal un medallón de yuyo. Tarí, tarí. y el cuerno listo al arrullo si hay percal en un zaguán. Calá, que linda está la moza, calá, barriendo la vereda, Mirá, mirá que bien le queda, mirá, la pollerita rosa. Frená, que va a subir la vieja, frená porque se queja, si está en movimiento. Calá, calá que sopla el viento, calá, calá calamidad. Tarí, tarí, trota la yunta,* palomas chapaleando en el barrial. Talán, tilín, tilín resuena el campanín del mayoral picando en son de broma y el conductor castiga sin parar para pasar sin papelón la loma Tarí, tarí, que a lo mejor se le asoma, cualquier moza de un portal. Qué linda esta la moza, barriendo la vereda, mirá que bien le queda, la pollerita rosa. Frená, que va a subir la vieja, Frená porque se queja si está en movimiento, calá, calá que sopla el viento, calá, calá, calamidad. Tarí, Tarí... Conduce Roque Barullo de la línea Nacional.

Tará, Tarí!* They call him Roque Barullo,  driver for the Nacional Line. He knows how to get his streetcar across the big gorge at Cuyo without riding crop or saddle strap.* His cornet hangs by a cord, and in his buttonhole, a medallion of herbs.*   Tará, Tarí! and the horn ready to coo*  in case there’s “percale”* in an entrance hall.* Calá! Check it out, how pretty the girl is, Calá! Check it out, she's sweeping the sidewalk, Mirá! Look how well it suits her, Mirá! Look, the nice pink skirt. Frená! Hit the brakes! The old lady is gonna get on, Frená! Hit the brakes! She’ll complain if the car's in motion. Calá, calá! See how the wind blows, calá, calá...calamity! Tarí, tarí, so the team trots, pigeons splashing in the muck. Ding-a-ling-a-ling,  the conductor's  little bell resounds, jokingly spurring the driver on;  he whips the horses non-stop to get over the hill without shame. Tarí, tarí, perhaps some girl will come out of a gate. How pretty this girl is, sweeping the sidewalk. See how well it suits her, the little pink skirt. Frená! Hit the brakes, 'cos the old lady is about to get on. Frená! Hit the brakes, because she complains if the car's moving. Look, look how the wind blows, calá, calá, calamity. Tarí, Tarí... So drives Roque Barullo  of the Nacional line.

NOTES:

* Cornetín/Cornet: The instrument in question is a small brass horn, similar to a modern cornet, but smaller and lacking the three brass valves of its cousin. Like the more-familiar bugle, it was used for military communication. The 1870 addition of horse-drawn streetcars to Buenos Aires' narrow streets caused traffic and safety problems. The sounding of the cornetín was used to warn oncoming traffic, both wheeled and pedestrian, of the streetcar's approach. In the song, the driver of the streetcar blows the horn; other sources suggest it was blown by a man or boy called a postillón or coronetero who walked forty metres ahead of the car. 

* Tará, Tarí... Calá... Mirá... Frená... : The central poetic conceit of the song is that the Barullo's cornet "speaks"; each of the rhythmic, binary phrases he blows has a meaning in Lunfardo or in popular speech. Tará Tarí, is the sound of the cornet itself; some sources suggest this was also an onomotopoetic nickname for the drivers themselves. Calá (Eng.: cahl-AH) is a Lunfardism, a command meaning "look here," or a"check it out." Mirá (mee-RAH) means more or less the same thing, but in standard Spanish. Frená (fray-NAH), from frenar, "to slow down or apply a brake"—the brakes on a modern vehicles are frenos—hence, "hit the brakes!" or simply "stop!" (I like "hit the brakes!" for greater impact, but to be honest I'm not sure whether horse-drawn streetcars had any brakes to hit.)

* riding crop...saddle strap: A reference to the practice of the cuarteador, a wandering towman with a stout horse who provided extra pulling power for wagons and carriages that got stuck in the abundant muck of Buenos Aires steets. This was especially needed by vehicles climbing a hill or, as in this case, the steep banks of a gorge. A cuarta was a riding crop used by the cuarteador and the cinchón was the stout, reinforced saddle strap to which he affixed his tow rope. (The term cuarta also refers to the service provided, so a cuarta is what we would call a tow.) For a complementary view of the cuarteador, see Tango Decoder's version of the song EL CUARTEADOR, by another outstanding tango poet, Enrique Cadícamo. You can see the saddle strap clearly in the accompanying illustration.

* medallion of weeds: medallón de yuyos. In Eclipse de sol the Barullo character wears a carnation in his lapel; she tenderly touches it as she sings the line. So maybe a medallion of weeds is somehow another name for a carnation? Hard to fathom. 

* serenade: Arrullo, from arrullar, "to whisper sweet nothings; to lull to sleep; to bill and coo." 

* percale: Percal was a slang term for a working-class girl; refers to the low-quality percale, a cotton fabric worn by working women and school girls. The tramway did not necessarily stop at a particular corner; it stopped at the doorway of a house. That explains Barullo's somewhat voyeuristic inclinations.