Kim jest Astor Piazzolla chyba każdy szanujący się fan muzyki rozrywkowej wie ? Tak samo jak każdy szanujący się czytelnik wie kim jest Jorge Louis Borges, więc nie ma chyba sensu przedstawianie szczegółowo tych postaci. Zrobię to zatem w skrócie:
Astor Piazzolla (1921 - 1992 r. w Buenos Aires) – kompozytor tanga argentyńskiego, wirtuoz bandoneonu, tanguero.
Astor Piazzolla był jedynym dzieckiem Vincentego Piazzolli i Asunty Mainetti, emigrantów, którzy przyjechali do Argentyny z miejscowości Trani we Włoszech. W 1925 r. rodzina przeniosła się do Nowego Jorku, gdzie mieszkali do 1936 r.
W 1929 r. Piazzolla dostał od ojca pierwszy bandoneon, a cztery lata później podjął naukę u Beli Wildy, wybitnego węgierskiego pianisty, ucznia Siergieja Rachmaninowa. Piazzolla powiedział o nim później: dzięki niemu pokochałem Bacha. W 1934 r. zagrał w filmie El Día Que Me Quieras razem z Carlosem Gardelem, królem klasycznego tanga.
Po powrocie do Argentyny, w roku 1939, zaczął grać w zespole Aníbala Troilo – najsłynniejszej wówczas orkiestry grającej tango. Po śmierci Tróili Piazzolla zaczął karierę solową. W 1954 r. otrzymał stypendium, dzięki któremu wyjechał do Paryża, by kształcić się u Nadii Boulanger. To ona nauczyła Piazzollę czerpać z ojczystej muzyki i skierowała jego uwagę na tango. Międzynarodową sławę Piazzolla zdobył na początku lat 80., gdy tworzył z Quinteto Tango Nuevo, założonym w 1976 r. Koncertował z tą grupą do 1989 r., a potem skoncentrował się na koncertach na bandoneon solo z orkiestrą. Piazzola osiągnął sukcesy muzyczne w Stanach Zjednoczonych w latach 80. W 1990 roku jego kariera została przerwana przez udar mózgu. Zmarł dwa lata później w Buenos Aires.
Oryginalny styl stworzony przez Piazzollę znany jest pod nazwą „nuevo tango”. Nie jest to tango przeznaczone do tańczenia, lecz kunsztownie stylizowana muzyka do słuchania (podobnie jak wcześniej tango Igora Strawinskiego). Charakterystyczne jest dla niego nawiązanie do baroku: do formy passacaglii, do barokowego kontrapunktu w sposób nasuwający skojarzenie z fugą. Rytm tanga bywa wyraźny, ale równocześnie ulega wyraźnym zakłóceniom. Harmonia również odbiega od tradycji, dzięki chromatyce, a nawet dysonującej chromatyce. Częste są nawiązania do jazzu. Stosowane są również niekonwencjonalne sposoby gry (jak w sonoryzmie), charakterystyczne dla brzmienia są glissanda. Wyraźnie zachowana jest natomiast charakterystyczna dla tanga atmosfera pewnej melancholii.
"Nuevo tango" stanowiło tak daleko posunięte przetworzenie tanga tradycyjnego, że wielu argentyńczyków do tego stopnia nie mogło się pogodzić z takim sposobem potraktowania ich narodowego tańca, że kompozytor spotykał się nawet z przejawami agresji. (wiki)
Jorge Luis Borges urodził się w Buenos Aires w 1899 roku gdzie również zmarł w 1986 roku. W rok wybuch pierwszej wojny światowej Jorge Borges wyjechał wraz z rodziną do Europy gdzie się uczył i zdobył maturę. W 1921 roku wrócił do Argentyny. Na życie Borgesa wielki wpływ miała jego matka. Pisarz większość życia spędził w bibliotece gdzie pracował w Buenos Aires. Kiedy Borges został dyrektorem argentyńskiej Biblioteki Narodowej z której został zwolniony przez dyktatora Perona z krytykę jego reżimu. Borges w późniejszych latach został profesorem literatury angielskiej na uniwersytecie w Buenos Aires. Przez bardzo długi okres Jorge Borges był kandydatem do Nagrody Nobla. Do najważniejszych dział Borgesa należą: „Powszechna historia nikczemności” (1935), „Fikcje” (1944,1956), „Twórca” (1960), „Kroniki Bustosa Domecqa” (1967), „Pochwała cienia” (1969), „Raport Brodiego” (1970). Broges stworzył sobie swój własny świat. Odkrył że biblioteka i system katalogowania są świetnym wyobrażeniem porządku przy tworzeniu wymyślonych światów. W zbudowanym przez siebie kosmosie wszystko wydawało się możliwe. Borges mieszał teksty naukowe z fikcyjnymi, tworząc nowych autorów dla starych książek lub dopisując fragmenty do różnych dzieł jak na przykład „Historia naturalna” Pliniusza. Barges odkrył, że tworzenie obszernych dzieł jest pracochłonną i wyniszczającą ekstrawagancją. Pisał notatki o książkach wyobrażonych. Stąd między innymi tytuł „Fikcje”. Pisarz cierpiał na postępująca ślepotę dlatego musiał swoje utwory dyktować przez co stały się krótsze dzięki czemu zaczął używać krótszych form bardzo często były nimi parabole.
Astor Piazzolla - bandoneon y dirección musical
Edmundo Rivero - voz (cantando)
Luis Medina Castro - voz (poesía, recitado)
Jaime Gosis – piano
Oscar Lopez Ruiz - guitarra
Roberto Fillippo – oboe
Margarita Zamek – arpa
Antonio Yepes - timbales y xilofon
Leo Jacobson - guiro y percusion
Antonio Agri – primer violín
Hugo Baralis - segundo violin
Mario Lalli – viola
José Bragato – cello
Kicho Diaz - bajo
In 1965, Borges and Astor Piazzolla collaborated on an album of tangos and milongas called El Tango. For whatever reason, it was allowed to go out of print and was never transferred onto CD. In 1996, Emmanuel Chamboredon and Envar el Kari decided to “rescue” this work, and they recommissioned a new recording. To assemble and conduct the sizable musical ensemble, Daniel Binelli was chosen – the very bandoneón player who worked with Piazzolla and Borges on the original record. The result was Borges & Piazzolla: Tangos and Milogas, featuring the Argentine singer Jairo and the Chilean actor Lito Cruz, with Daniel Binelli himself on the bandoneón.
And what can I possibly say except “Thank heaven they did this?” Borges & Piazzolla is a wonderful accomplishment, one of those rare albums that seems truly charmed, brimming over with exuberance, wit, and passion. (Be warned: I am about to launch into an unabashed rave.)
When I first got this CD, I played it casually as I was working, just to get a preliminary feel for it. And while I certainly enjoyed it, I must say that most of it passed unnoticed, slipping by my busy and diverted mind. The next night I went out on the town, and as fate would have it, I was carousing with a few friends. (OK, so it’s not exactly stabbing a gaucho to death in a bordello, but nevertheless I did have a certain mind-set.) On my way home I started up my Discman, thinking I had a Beck CD in the player.
Much to my surprise, the unmistakable bars of a Piazzolla tango began. Maybe it was the chilly night with its full moon; maybe it was the walk home through the streets of the city; maybe it was just the result of a few drinks – but suddenly the album gripped me and wouldn’t let me go. In fact, I delayed my arrival home just to finish the CD, mesmerized on the steps of the local library, my head full of knife fights, mysterious candillos, and the romantic streets of a mythical BA. The next day I played it again, and then again, and since then I have not been able to get it out of my player.
Borges & Piazzolla is a short disc, but one that covers a lot of musical ground. Comprised of six stand-alone pieces and a suite based on the story “El hombre de la esquina rosada,” the work calls for a narrator, a singer, and no less than twelve musicians. And while this might sound a bit unwieldy, the whole thing works marvelously, combining elements of a tango band with a chamber ensemble, blending poetry with song, and all delivered with flawless virtuosity, seamless integration and an irrepressible enthusiasm.
The disc starts off with one of the most ambitious pieces, “El tango.” Constructed as a “musical poem,” the band backs Lito Cruz as he delivers a theatrical reading of Borges’ poem. The music is a whirlwind of color and texture, spiked with improvised effects that range from scratching nails across metal guiros, thumping instruments for percussion, and crazy sounding “glissés” gleefully ripped from shrieking strings. While the band in The Rough Dancer and the Cyclical Night was instructed to evoke tangueros playing in a whorehouse, this band seems more suited to a madhouse, and the frenetic energy of the music is perfectly echoed in the urgency Cruz brings to his verses. This is followed by “Jacinto Chiclana,” a milonga that calms things down with a beautiful melody touched off by a gently rolling Spanish guitar. This marks the first appearance of Jairo, a singer with a resumé that includes previous Borges collaborations and a seductive voice that touches every line with trembling passion. As the guitar gives way to a gorgeous violin melody, Jairo delivers the middle stanza in spoken word, underscoring the drama of Borges’ verse. The next song is “Alguien le dice al tango.” The most traditional work in the collection, this spirited tango winds down to a lovely hush before disappearing in a sudden flourish. “El títere” then emerges on a manic tune played on the bandoneón, accompanied by a scratching riff that recalls the opening number. It is one of the most energetic songs on the album, filled with stuttering musical runs, sudden stops, and strings that whistle like sirens. It is followed by “A don Nicanor Paredes,” my personal favorite. A milonga, the dramatic music weaves around Jairo’s lush voice, occasionally falling into perfect moments of pure chamber music. It is a dark song, a romantic evocation of a vanished candillo, touched by melancholy and a slight taste of bitter nostalgia. The final song, “Oda intima a Buenos Aires,” is labeled a “porteno ode” and brings back the narrator. It is also, according to Piazzolla, the most vocally audacious piece – to the narrator is added a large chorus of chanting men and wailing women. The result is a song charged with a sentimental grandeur possessing all the nutty beauty of an old Spaghetti Western score. While this could certainly sound campy, or at least parodistic, there is a certain level of “audacious” honesty present which successfully carries off the effect and draws the listener inside.
The final work on the disc is the multi-part suite, “El hombre de la esquina rosada,” a setting of the story often translated as “Streetcorner Man.” (Or, more properly, “Man on Pink Corner.”) Here we have Piazzolla in experimental mode again, and the work spans a lot of territory over its seven parts, even dipping a toe into the waters of serialism. Back again are the joyful bevy of effects, the scratching, the thwacking pizzicati, the whirring glissés. But here they sound less frenetic, more focused, and the twelve-piece band propels the work along with a sure and steady confidence. The vocal parts, too, are more mannered, especially the harshness of the narration in “Aparición de real” and the unresolved edginess Jairo brings to “Rosendo y la Lujanera.”
For a Borges fan looking to explore the world of Argentine music, I can’t imagine a better start than this disc. Though Valeria Munarriz covers many of these songs on her Chante Jorge Luis Borges – and she carries them off wonderfully – I still prefer these versions. Although whether you prefer a male or female singer may be a matter of taste, Binelli’s band is more comfortable with the complexity and energy inherent in the music, and they play more in the spirit of Piazzolla’s own recordings. The recording quality is excellent – each instrument and effect comes through with crystal clarity, and the vocals are rich, warm, and perfectly positioned. The bilingual liner notes helpfully reprint Piazzolla’s commentary from the 1965 recording, supporting that with remarks from Laura Escalada Piazzolla, María Kodama, and Daniel Binelli. There are also small biographies on Daniel Binelli, Jairo and Lito Cruz. Curiously absent, however, are the actual lyrics – a serious oversight I find difficulty to understand, given the excellence brought to all other facets of the project. I would also have welcomed some explanation as to why the original 1965 El Tango is no longer available.
Before commenting on this record’s music I would like you to know what it means to me to be a collaborator of Jorge Luis Borges. The responsibility has been big, but even larger the compensation when I learned that a poet of his magnitude identified himself with all my tunes – and it will be even greater if you share that feeling.
The music for “El hombre de la esquina rosada” was composed in march, 1960, in New York City. The work came out of an idea by choreographer Ana Itelman, who adapted sentences from Borges’ short story. The score is for narrator, singer, and 12 instruments.
The musical treatment ranges from the simplest tango essence to hints of dodecaphonic music. The music for Jorge Luis Borges’ poem “El Tango” has been especially composed following and respecting its contents. This gave me the opportunity to experiment with aleatoric music in the percussion scores. The recording has been made exclusively by my quintet, which means noises you hear were made solely with their instruments. The violin produces a percussive effect by hitting the end of its handle with a ring, doing “pizzicati” with “glissé,” imitating a siren with a “glissé” on the string, imitating sandpaper with the end of the bow behind the bridge and a drum by doing “pizzicati” with the nails between two strings. The electric guitar imitates a bongo, sirens with “glissé” effects, add minor seconds and strange effects with six strings open behind the bridge. The pianist hits treble and bass notes with the palms of his hands, and with his fists on the lower notes. The bassist hits the back part of his instrument with the palm of his hand, makes “glissés” on the bass strings and hits four strings with his bow. Bandoneón imitates a bongo by hitting the box with the left annular finger. It also has, on a side, a sort of metallic guiro to be scratched with a nail. All these effects were improvised to introduce so-called aleatoric music into tango.
The milonga “Jacinto Chiclana,” the tango “Alguien le dice al tango,” and the tango-milonga “El títere” are the simplest tunes in this recording. Simple because they simply follow the spirit of Jorge Luis Borges’ poems.
”Jacinto Chiclana” has the spirit of a milonga played with guitar, that is, the type of improvised milonga.
”Alguien le dice al tango” can be considered, melodically and harmonically, within the 1940s style, and “El títere” could be defined as the prototype of light, joyful and “compadrón” rhythm of the turn of the century.
Due to its dramatic contents, I have composed “A don Nicanor Paredes” on an 8-bar measure of Gregorian chant and resolving the melodic part without artificial modernism – everything very simple, deeply felt and honest.
The “Oda intima a Buenos Aires,” composed for singer, narrator, choir and orchestra, is perhaps the most audacious of all tunes for singing. Despite that, its melodic line is simple. It begins in ascending chromatic mode and ends up in descending chromatic mode.
To all . . . my thanks for having the opportunity to make this record.--- Astor Piazzolla
(source)
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OdpowiedzUsuńWell thanks... should be very interesting.
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