Musician, violinist, leader and composer.
(26 November 1888 – 14 December 1964)
His life runs parallel to the history of Tango: starting in the poorest neighborhoods of Buenos Aires, moving up the social ladder, eventually achieving world wide recognition.
He was born in Uruguay in 1888.
During his early childhood he moved with his family to Buenos Aires, where they rented a room in a “conventillo”, collective form of accommodation or housing in which several poor families shared a house, typically one family for each room using communal sanitary services.
His family was very poor.
Later, he would become one of the wealthiest people in Argentina, and a major contributor to the diffusion of Tango in Buenos Aires, the rest of Argentina and abroad. He went on to be very involved in the struggle for musicians and composers rights, making it possible to make a living for musicians and generating incentives for them to improve and be creative. Continue reading.
Pianist, leader and composer.
(24 November 1893 – 23 December 1950)
Francisco Lomuto recorded with his orchestra, between 1922 and 1950, over 950 numbers.
His last orchestra was, undoubtedly, the best, the most evolved and the tightest he led. The bandoneon section was lined-up by Federico Scorticati, Alfredo Cordisco, Manuel Alvarez and Domingo Greco. The violins were in charge of Carlos Taverna, Ernesto Gianni, José Carli and Otelo Gasparini. The pianist was Juan Carlos Howard, the double bass player was Alberto Celenza and his singers were Alberto Rivera and Miguel Montero. Continue reading at www.todotango.com…
Bandoneonist, leader and composer
(18 November 1881 – 14 July 1934)
He was essential to the acceptance of bandoneon as a musical instrument of Tango.
Lots of people came to listen to Pacho there. The special rhythm of Pacho’s interpretations of tangos brought many of the best dancers of the time, like El Cachafáz, to listen, because it was not place to dance.
Some of his compositions are: “Armenonville”, “Un copetín”, “Quasi nada” and “Sábado inglés”.
In 1912 he started to record for Columbia. His success was so great that the word “Pacho” became a synonym of “recordings”. Continue reading at todotango.com…
Oigo tu voz
engarzada en los acordes de una Iírica guitarra…
Sos milonga de otros tiempos… Yo te vi crecer
prendida en las polleras de un bailongo guapo y rompedor
como jamás ha de volver.
Nadie, tal vez,
comprendió mejor las penas y el sentir de mi barriada…
Sin embargo te olvidaron y en el callejón
tan sólo una guitarra te recuerda, criolla como vos,
y en su gemir tiembla mi ser.
Vuelvo cansado de todo
y en mi corazón lloran los años…
Mi vida busca tan sólo
la tranquilidad del viejo barrio…
Y encuentro todo cambiado menos tu canción, milonga mía…
El progreso ha destrozado toda la emoción
de mi arrabal.
Quiero olvidar
y tus notas van llenando de tristeza el alma mía…
He cruzado tantas veces ese callejón,
llevando entre los labios un silbido alegre y tu cantar
emborrachando el corazón.
Era feliz
entregado a las caricias de la única sincera
que acunó una primavera que no floreció…
Milonga, ya no puedo continuar… El llanto me venció…
Quiero olvidar… y pienso más.
Milonga 1937.
Music: Pedro Laurenz.
Lyrics: José María Contursi.
English translation:
I hear your voice
set in the chords of an Iyric guitar…
You are milonga of other times… I saw you growing up
stitched in the skirts of a brave and groundbreaking dancing
as never to return.
No one but me, perhaps,
understood better the sorrows and the feeling of my neighborhood…
However, they forgot you, and in the alley,
only a guitar remembers you, criolla like you,
and in my groan, my whole being trembles.
I return tired of everything
and in my heart the years cry…
My life seeks only
the tranquility of the old neighborhood…
And I find everything changed except your song, my milonga…
Progress has shattered all the emotions
of my suburb.
I want to forget
and your notes fill my soul with sadness…
I’ve crossed that alley so many times,
bringing a happy whistle between my lips and your singing
getting my heart drunk.
I was happy
and committed to the caresses of the only sincere one
that cradled a spring that didn’t bloom…
Milonga, I can no longer continue… The crying beat me…
I want to forget … and I think more.
Bandoneonist, composer and leader
(5 November 1896 – 25 September 1964)
A genuine product of a period, Aieta represents the essentially intuitive and self taught musician whose privileged musical ear and innate talent generously replace his academic lacks.
Nevertheless, it is in his overwhelming work as composer where the flame of his geniality reaches a brighter light, either due to the huge volume of his output or because of that display of originality, beauty and vigor that beats in each one of the melodies born out of his inexhaustible creative spring which have consecrated him as one of the top rhapsodes of the people. He was a painter of happiness and sadness that changed colors for sounds.
“En el naipe del vivir
suelo acertar la carta de la boca,
y a mi lado oigo decir
que es porque estoy con una suerte loca.
Al saber le llaman suerte..!
Yo aprendí viendo trampearme,
y ahora sólo han de coparme
cuando banquen con la Muerte.
En el naipe del vivir,
para ganar, primero perdí.
Yo también entré a jugar
confiado en la ceguera del azar
y luego vi que todo era mentir
y el capital en manos del más vil…
No me creés…¡Te pierde el corazón!
¡Qué fe tenés!…¿No ves que no acertás?
¿Que si apuntás a cartas de ilusión
son de dolor las cartas que se dan?
No me envidies si me ves
acertador, pues soy el Desengaño…
Y si ciego así perdés,
es que tenés los lindos veinte años…
El tapete es la esperanza
y, a pesar de lo aprendido,
si me dan lo que he perdido
vuelve a hundirme la confianza…
¡Suerte loca es conservar
una ilusión en tanto penar!”
English translation:
On life’s deck of cards
I usually guess the card on the top,
and by my side I hear them say
that it is because I have crazy luck.
It is “knowledge” what they call “luck”…!
I learned this watching them cheating,
and now they would only defeat me
when they count with Death’s help.
In life’s deck of cards,
to be able to win, first I lost.
I also went to play
confident in the blindness of chance
and then I saw that everything was lying
and the money in the hands of the most despicable…
You do not believe me… Your heart is making you lose!
How much faith you have!… Do you not see that you’re wrong?
That if you anticipate receiving cards of hope
they give cards of pain?Do not envy me if you see me
winner, because I am the Disappointment…
And if blind, you lose,
is that you are a beautiful twenty-something…
The playing table is hope
and, despite what has been learned,
if they would give me what I have lost
my confidence sinks me again …
Crazy luck is to keep
your hopes while suffering so much!
Music: Anselmo Aieta.
Lyrics: Francisco García Jiménez.
Francisco Canaro
