The month of April, 1944, saw a feverish upsurge of activity in the pages of the El Mundo newspaper's Dance Guide. At this time, we begin to see not only advertising for individual events, but a concerted effort to generate publicity and even what would today be called branding for certain key artists and clubs. Carlos Di Sarli, always zealous of his public image, was among the most active players in this scenario.
First, a little background. Since the middle of 1943, soloist Alberto Castillo had been lauded and applauded almost daily in the El Mundo Dance Guide as "The Singer of The Hundred Barrios," eclipsing the orchestra of his former employer, Ricardo Tanturi. Beginning in December of that year, pianist Orlando Goñi, former mainstay of the Troilo orchestra, was featured day after day in large "anchor ads"* that included pictures of him and even a facsimile of his autograph, presumably something in great demand among his fans. On the day that Goñi ended his ten-week debut run at the bar El Nacional and began what was to be another long run at the Palermo Place, both venues ran anchor ads on facing pages. The farewell from El Nacional featured photos of Goñi and all eleven members of his band. Both acts, Castillo and Goñi, were attracting wide attention and adulation.
* "anchor ads" were large display ads that spanned the entire width of the newspaper, at the bottom of a page.
"You who know how to listen
will have by your side
starting Monday
DI SARLI at the MARABU
The Argentine musician who gave new life to the tango will appear before his grand orchestra Monday the tenth at 10:30 with
"THE WHEEL OF TANGO"... Extraordinary contest of musical compositions (tangos), excluding those by Carlos Di Sarli, to set new standards. The public will choose by the best Tango by a vote.
Monday the 10th at 10:30 in an unforgettable celebration, with performances by the best artists."
Sunday, 9 April 1944.
Then, beginning in early April of 1944, a third star rose on tango's horizon. The pages of El Mundo carried a series of eye-grabbing, daily ads heralding the debut of a unnamed singer dubbed "The Actor of Tango," framing his masked face inside a giant question mark. The campaign lasted all month. In fact, many readers knew or could guess that "The Actor," so named for the dramatic physical gestures and facial expressions he employed while singing, was in fact Roberto Rufino, who had until recently been the voice of Carlos Di Sarli's orchestra. But it was a clever campaign nonetheless. Rufino would make his solo debut at the Palermo Palace to much acclaim on 1 May.
Carlos Di Sarli himself had long been a frequent advertiser and self-promoter in the pages of El Mundo. From as early as 1942, it would not have been at all unusual for the readers of El Mundo to open the morning edition to a large ad bearing a photo of Di Sarli and some heartfelt, personal message from the great musician. He was patriotic, so he ran a large display ad conveying his personal good wishes to the citizenry on 25 May, Argentina's National Day. He was a populist, so he ran an ad saluting the country's working people on the first of May. He was a success, so he ran an ad each year to announce that he was fully booked for the coming year and to express his regrets that he could not accept further engagements. Di Sarli was the only bandleader of the period to conduct this sort of direct, ongoing, personal communication with his public through the medium of newspaper advertising. The messages were sincere, they were charming, and they were courtly, but they were also, clearly, self-serving and even, dare we say it, bombastic.
Di Sarli, according to these self-published proclamations, was "the ace of tango," "the Argentine musician who gave new life to tango"; his music was "the most Argentine in the land." But now, the incipient superstars Castillo, Goñi, and Rufino with their elaborate ads were hogging much of the limelight that had formerly shone upon him. How could Maestro Di Sarli regain the fire that these upstarts, one of them his own former employee, were stealing from him? Di Sarli and his publicists had an idea. They called it La Rueda Del Tango, "The Wheel of Tango."
Argentines of this epoch loved contests of all kinds. Raffles, lotteries, quizzes, popularity contests, and the like—with prizes for the winners, of course—were a regular feature of radio, newspaper, and many public gatherings, including dances. They were a time-tested way to capture the interest, imagination, and attention of the public. Di Sarli's "Wheel of Tango" was to be all of that, and more.
Results of the first Wheel of Tango, 13 April 1944.
The upscale Marabú nightclub at Maipú 365 was Di Sarli's headquarters in Buenos Aires; he and his orchestra appeared there nightly from April through December. The first "Rueda del Tango" was held at Marabú. Di Sarli's orchestra would play a selected group of new compositions, and audience members would vote for their favorite. (Compositions by Di Sarli himself were excluded from the competition.) The stated intent was to identify the best composers and lyricists from each barrio of Buenos Aires—a possible shot at Castillo, with his somewhat exaggerated barrio pretensions—and more specifically imponer valores nuevos, "to set new standards" or "to spread new values." (Christian Martinz informs me that the use of the verb imponer, "to impose," is poorly chosen by contemporary standards. It sounds rather pushy and pompous.) The implicit message was, in the first case, that Di Sarli's barrio credentials were as valid as anyone's, and in the second, that while artists like Castillo, Goñi, and Rufino might be stars for the moment, it was he, Di Sarli, who would set the standards for tango.
We don't know how the contest was conducted, or exactly why they called it "The Wheel of Tango," but we do know that the cumulative results were recorded over the course of several nights of performance at the Marabú. The first night's results included six songs in the following order: Cero al as (350 votes), Que Solo Estoy (322), Nada (315), Otra Noche (311), Llueve otra vez (160), and Boedo y San Juan (117).
It is interesting to note that the results of the first Wheel of Tango were published in El Mundo on the morning or 13 April; Di Sarli recorded the four top songs later that same day. The wheel of tango turned rather quickly, it seems!
The cumulative results after the fourth vote, which took place on the evening of 14 May, showed Cero al as holding onto its lead, Otra Noche rising to second place, Que solo estoy dropping from second to third place, Nada holding steady in fourth, with Boedo y San Juan and Llueve otra vez trading places. The four soon-to-be-released songs were holding their lead.
"View of a part of the crowd that didn't get in"
On the evening of the 15th, The Wheel of Tango spun for a fifth time and, according to an ad placed the following morning by the Marabú, the program was so popular that they had to turn people away from the door. The ad featured a photo of a group of disappointed fans standing in front of the club under a huge poster showing Di Sarli seated at his piano. The ad says:
"The boite Marabú begs your pardon if you couldn't get in to hear The Wheel of Tango with Carlos Di Sarli... and begs your pardon because, although you may have visited other places, it would have been difficult to achieve the happiness you sought... The happiness of the ear and eye, with the best music and the best show!... in the best "boite" of the Republic, MARABU, Maipú 365, Buenos Aires.
[Read Part 2 of this article.]
I took this on my last visit to Buenos Aires. I'd just had lunch and a spirited conversation with Michael Lavocah and La Belle Birgit at the Café Británico, and there was a bit of cobblestone-paved street outside. 
