Tango and Chaos (rebuilt)

"El Bulín de la Calle Ayacucho" "The Clubhouse on Ayacucho Street" Tango was born in the southern part of Buenos Aires, but it quickly spread all around the city. This famous tango is about an apartment in the fashionable  Recoleta  neighborhood of the 1920s: EL BULÍN DE LA CALLE AYACUCHO , Troilo con Fiorentino  The bulín on Ayacucho Street, that I rented when I was young and wild… the bulín where the guys would drop in at night to play cards and gamble. The bulín where so many of the boys in those tough times, found food and a place to sleep... feeling desperate, as if they would cry. The primus stove never failed me... it was loaded with fuel, and there was always hot water... mate was the thing there. There was always a guitar, shiny and well tuned, and a playboy with a nasal voice, who dreamed of becoming a singer. El bulín de la calle Ayacucho, que en mis tiempos de rana alquilaba… el bulín que la barra buscaba pa´caer por la noche a ...

"Paisaje " "Landscape Painting" What a fascinating thing—the way art can mysteriously transform something and give it a new nature. What is this process that makes things more than what they are? Letters on a piece of paper, or colors on a canvas, or movements around a room somehow become more than just words or colors or physical movements. And music may be the most mysterious transformation of all. How is it possible to make vibrations in the air into something more? How, for example, is it possible to make sound waves become a certain time of year? Obviously there are birds chirping in the summer, and the winter is sometimes quieter—but I don’t normally think of the seasons as having a different sound. Yet after I translated this tango, it began to sound like autumn. Not just the words—but the music itself! It began to sound like "the ache of autumn". Like the sound of fall slipping into winter. How do you put something into the cadence and the t...

" Tristezas de la Calle Corrientes " "Corrientes Street Blues" I tried to translate this tango about five years ago, and it didn't come out very well. The words and the structure of the poetry were too difficult. That’s when I realized that not only does a good translation help you dance tango, but also, a bad translation can sometimes ruin a tango for you. For a long time I didn’t care much for  Tristezas,  because it just didn't make sense to me. Now however, with the help of my  profesora , I discovered that part of the earlier problem wasn't totally my fault. I had originally checked what I was hearing against the  castellano  lyrics on the  Todotango  website. Todotango is a good Argentine site that I use as a reference for names and dates in tango, and it's usually accurate. I assumed their lyrics came from the pages originally written for Tristezas,  and would be correct. But for some reason, they had the word  "Si"  instea...

"Amarras" "Mooring Lines" From 1935 to 1945 tango grew and changed in ways it never had before—and never would again. Great poets sat in the  confiterias  writing lyrics, and the orchestras were playing to packed milongas every night. Tango owned the city, and the incredible creativity and energy in the air must have inspired everyone. There’s a lot of speculation about when and where tango was born, but I think the answer is easy. While the rest of the world was tearing itself apart with war, tango was being born in Buenos Aires. It all comes from those ten years. The most golden time of the Golden Age. We just listened to a couple of tangos from 1938, so let’s jump ahead to 1944 and see what’s new. The tango is  Amarras . An  amarra  is a mooring line used to tie a ship to the dock (or maybe in this case, a tree on the bank of the  Riachuelo ). The guy in this tango has a  lancha carbonera ; a boat that he uses to transport coal up the...

"Pensalo Bien" "Think Carefully" PENSALO BIEN                                   Can you identify the orchestra? For me, there are two clues. The first is the sharp, unique sound of the piano, which points to Biaggi. But if you listen to the old-fashioned, wavering violin (about 50 seconds in), you’ll find another hint. This is my personal way of quickly identifying D’Arienzo. He put the sound into some of his best tangos from the 1930s (when Biaggi was with him). As far as the singer, I’m a little embarrassed to say I didn’t recognize Echagüe at first. I guess I’m more used to his snarling tough-guy sound in  El Nene del Abasto  ("The Kid from Abasto") and  Cartón Junado  ("Well-Known Hoodlum"), instead of the pensive, “give me another chance” voice he uses here : Think carefully before taking th...

"Idilio Trunco" "End of the Affair" This is one of the greatest of the great Castillo  valses . I remember some milongueros singing along with it at a party a few years ago, and Miguel Balbi, who sings tango in clubs, kept repeating the last line :  "No hay NADA entre nosotros... ANDATE por favor!" They were trying to match the sharpness and emotion of Castillo's voice, and they kept shaking their heads and laughing at how difficult it was. The words are about a man who has absolutely reached his limit with a woman. He doesn't pull any punches, and his message is clear:  "I'm finished with you... understand? I'm sick of your games. You've hurt me for the last time, so...  get out of here!!" Ernesto Delgado and Miguelito kept marveling at the difficulty of staying with Castillo, and also chuckling at the half funny, half tragic lyrics. I mean, it is tragic—but then, most of us have been there—and we lived through it. So...

Chasing Perfection The reason Francisco Amor’s singing, or Troilo’s playing, were so good is not because of technical perfection. They were good because both of them understood tango—and knowing tango beats technical perfection every time. So the obvious question is, how do you get to know tango? What does it even  mean  to know tango? I’ve talked before about an endless series of doors. Sometimes you open one, but sooner or later, you come up against another. I don’t want to get carried away with analogies, but another way to look at it is that tango is a search for tiny bits of information. The bits are around, but they’re in unexpected places. Not only do you have to be ready to see them, but you have to put them together in the right way. You have to connect the dots. Let me take a minute to talk about a few dots I’ve connected in the last couple of years. Perfection is our goal in almost everything. Whether it's building a wall, or flying an airplane, or playing ...

Crazy           "Can't you see it?There goes the moon...   rolling down Callao!" -Balada para un Loco   I never responded to that woman at the dinner party. In fact, after a few minutes, Alej and I got up and went to another room. We’ve learned not to get into arguments about tango. They can be surprisingly hostile, especially when alcohol is involved. But let me take a moment to answer here. I don’t dislike tango nuevo because I’m a knee-jerk reactionary. I just think that like many things in popular culture, it isn't very interesting. It tries too hard to be liked—a hodgepodge of choreography that at first glance appears interesting, but quickly becomes simple and soulless when you look closer. I see a sort of "tango lite” that tries to be everything, but ends up being nothing. Hipsters trying to look cool. And of course like all stage tango, it’s a disaster in a milonga. In the end, all these new v...