The Kings of Tango: Enrique Santos Discépolo

The Kings of Tango: Enrique Santos Discépolo

An interesting interview with Enrique Santos Discépolo, the author of “Qué vachaché”, “Chorra”, and “Esta noche me emborracho” [Conducted by Ernesto E. de la Fuente, Buenos Aires, 1928]

—Are you happy?

—I am almost ready to believe it.

—The reason for this happiness?

—Perhaps my recent successes, and my earlier ones as well.

—To what do you ascribe your recent triumphs?

—Simply to the quality of my musical productions and that I had the fortune of interpreting the tastes of the public by identifying myself with it.

—You do not believe in luck?

—Perhaps it exists as a secondary factor, but I think only remotely.

—Do you think that the horizon of tango is infinite?

—It would remain to make sure that tango is immortal!

This dialog was held between the reporter and the well-known composer Enrique Santos Discépolo, who has proliferated enviably in recent times with his tangos “Esta noche me emborracho” [premiered to greates acclaim by Azucena Maizani], “Chorra”, and “Qué vachaché”.

In fact, what happened to Discépolo is unique in the annals of the tango criollo. Overnight, a young man, hardly being a musician, appears to publish a tango and lands the most sensational success. And after an unquestionable triumph, almost inadvertently, one after the other follows, making him extremely popular and prosperous.

This is what happened to our interviewee who at this time could well be swimming in banknotes and gold coins, practically without worries about the future.

 Discépolo was born in 1901. His father was a musician, and he showed a great interest in all kind of musical matters. His family, however, wanted him to pursue a different career. Therefore, he later entered the teacher's college, from which he intended to graduate.

—Why did you not complete you career, we ask him.

Because he discovered, while he was a “teacher trainee”, that he had a talent for acting.

—How did you discover this?

—Without thinking about it. When it was my turn for the practice classes, not only my fellow students but also the teachers came into my classroom to observe my way of teaching—possibly because my way of speaking and my gestures.

—“You are a true actor,” someone told me one day, and I decided to devote myself completely to the theater.

—And were you successful?

—Imagine, with the agreement of my brother [the theater disrector and playwright Armando Discépolo], I joined the company that played at the Teatro Nacional in 1920. I made my debut in a secondary role, but after a short time I advanced quickly until I performed some important roles as a dramatic leading man.

—Who else did you work with?

—First, for some time and always with good luck, with Blanca Podestá and Rossich. Then I joined the troupe of Teatro Renascimiento, with which I toured, and then returned to the Teatro Nuevo. Some time after that I left in order to dedicate myself to other theatrical activities until—last year—I went to Montevideo with Saldias as an actor for a good season.

—What are these “other” theatrical activities?

—Those of writing, which have shown good results. When I was seventeen years old, I premiered with Folco a piece at the Teatro Nacional, when Vittone used to play there. “Los duendes”, as it was called, was well received, and that gave me the courage to continue. I was able to stage “Señor cura”, “Dia feriado”, “El hombre solo”, “Páselo, cabo”, and “El organito”, which was one of the pieces that proved to be a major success in the theater world as well as with the audience, and it kept its place for a considerable number of performances.

—Will you continue to write for the theater?

—I am looking forward to it, because I am very fond of writing. But I have decided, for the time being, to continue as a composer and actor.

—So, that you will definitely rejoin the theater?

—In March, I am thinking of making my debut at the Teatro Cómico, where I will meet my brother Armando, and I expect that there I will be able to work well.

—And these activities will leave you time to spare for continuing with your musical productions?

—I hope so, since even in this respect I have much work to do.

—When did you compose your first tango?

—Only recently. When I was touring with Fregues in Casilda in 1926, I was inspired to the music of my tango “Que vachaché”, which is now making its mark in a definitive way.

—And your other compositions?

Discépolo at his harmonium

—I must say that after this piece I have only composed “Chorra” and “Esta noche me emborracho”. Only three tangos, but they have excited—as you have confirmed—not only the audience in Buenos Aires but also in many other countries.

—How many records do you suppose to have been pressed of your productions?

—Approximately some 220,000, not taking into account the illegal copies that were made in other countries and that are very difficult to trace.

—And how many copies of each piece?

—Of “Esta noche me emborracho”, some 127,000 copies were made, of “Chorra” approximately 60,000.

—Your next tangos?

—I have three tangos in preparation: “Soy un Arlequín”, “Victoria”, and one more that has not been given a name yet.

—Do you expect, then, to earn a lot of money with your new productions?

—I can honestly say that for the moment I am more interested in artistic rather than financial success, even though I am one of the few composers who has made a lot of money in a relatively short time.

—Your plans for the future?

—To work, as longs as I have the strength to do it.

—An anecdote of your life?

—Look, by chance, something very curious happened to me recently. The text of “Chorra”, as you will probably know, is about a butcher whose wife had thrown him out of the house. This text narrates a story that had not been inspired by any actual incident. Well then, by chance I found myself at the corner the Mercado del Plata when suddenly a tall, strong man, “dressed like a butcher”, approached me and without further ado said to me:

—“Your are Discépolo?”

—“Certainly”, I responded.

—“And who told you what happened to me with that wretched wife of mine, so that you may sing it all about town?”

—I was going to respond trying to look for way out of this situation—because that presumed murderer looked as frightening to me as the big carving knife stuck in his belt—when he himself dispelled my fears:

—“You have avenged me, friend, you spoke the truth,” he added. ”Now everyone knows how wickedly she treated me” — and while he spoke it seemed to me he wanted to cry.

—“Certainly,” Discépolo asserts, coming to an end, “writing the text, I did not know the case of the mentioned butcher. It was just coincidence, nothing but pure coincidence.”

Translation by Wolfgang Freis. ©2017. All rights reserved.