Showing posts with label Vicente Greco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vicente Greco. Show all posts

Monday, January 29, 2018

Notes on Vicente Greco


The “conventillo”, the tenement housing inhabited by many new immigrants to Buenos Aires at the turn of the 20th century, looms large in the domain of tango. It is one of the legendary places where tango is said to have developed and flourished. In fact, two of the most prominent tango pioneers actually grew up in neighboring “conventillos”: Vicente Greco and Francisco Canaro.

There are many parallels in the development of Canaro and Greco. As young children, bot were forced to leave school and work in order to contribute to the family income, selling newspapers on the streets. Moreover, both showed an early talent for music but at first had to practice their skills on instruments owned by neighbors. The economic fortunes of the Greco family eventually improved to such a degree that the children could return to school and had time and leisure to pursue cultural interests.



Four of the Greco siblings in 1915: Elena, Vicente, Ángel, and María (from left to right.)


In his autobiography he described the family as follows:

I must tell that Vicente Greco was a fairly cultured fellow, half romantic and fond of literature—so much that he wrote a theater play entitled “Souls that suffer”, which was never staged. He was a great inspiration as a musician, and I am convinced he would have produced great works had he not disappeared so young. His first Tango was “El Pibe”; then he composed “El Moronchito”, “Rodríguez Peña”, “La Viruta”, “Ojos Negros”, “El Flete”, and many more. At the beginning of the century, we lived half a house away from each other: he in the tenement housing of Sarandí Street No. 1356, and I lived in No. 1358. The Grecos were a family of musicians and intellectuals. In addition to Vicente, his brother Domingo was a guitarist and pianist. Angel was a singer and guitarist, and he composed a successful tango, “Naipe Marcado”. Elena played the piano by intuition, but superbly. Fernando, the oldest, was a butcher, and there was another brother, Emilio. They all have passed away, except for one sister who is still alive, Maria. She used to be a school teacher and was the first [female] public accountant in Buenos Aires. Vicente, the most popular of them, was born in 1886 and died on October 12th, 1924 when so much was still expected of his talent and calling.




By 1915, Vicente Greco was—together which Juan “Pacho” Maglio and Eduardo Arolas—among the renowned badoneonists and band leaders in Buenos Aires.






Domingo Greco was seven years older than Vicente. He also was a professional musician, at first playing the guitar and later switching to the piano.


Angel Greco, five years younger than Vicente and the “Caruso” of the family started his musical career as a singer on the theater stage.



Elena Greco at the piano



María Greco, teacher and first female accountant in Buenos Aires


Sunday, March 26, 2017

The Bandoneon in the Early Tango Orchestras


No musical instrument is associated with tango more closely than the bandoneon. However, in the early days of tango—before and at the time when the name orquesta típica for tango orchestras was introduced—a presence of a bandoneon in the performing group was not a given. If it was among the instruments, then most likely a single one; two bandoneons can be found only rarely.

The biography of Julio de Caro (1899-1980) sheds a light on the dissemination of the bandoneon in the first decade and a half of the twentieth century. Describing his childhood years in Buenos Aires, De Caro reports:

[Buenos Aires, Pasaje la] Defensa 1020: new residence. In front the music school and store; for a few, short years a magical place due to its stock of musical instruments which my father, the visionary, had enhanced with bandoneons—very rare then since they were brought only in small quantities by Max Epperlein from Germany.


Given such an event (which it was), our house—one of the few to exhibit them—became eye witness to a long parade of customers and interested persons, mainly by the “great fathers of tango” as this instrument was an indispensable element for them and, I repeat, very difficult to obtain.

As if in a dream, I recall names: [Enrique] Saborido, “Pacho” [Maglio], [José Bonano] “Pepino”, [Alfredo] Bevilacqua, [Angel] Villoldo, Rosendo [Mendizábal], [Ricardo] González (“Mochila”), [Domingo] Santa Cruz, Vicente Greco. Greco's tangos edited by Enrique Caviglia [Ediciones Mignon] (the first publisher to do so) sold dozens every day in my father's store, as [piano] scores for 0.10 cent. I took advantage of this lucky opportunity and “pried about” when a new piece was released. I remember once having appropriated two tangos (as contraband goods): “El Pibe”, which attracted me especially, and “El Morochito”. I learned them secretly—I do not remember how—with a sordine on the violin, memorized them, and then shelved them again without leaving the slightest trace of the theft: a deed that would have made proud Arsène Lupin.

It will be good to point out again that 50 years ago, tango—the “forbidden word” due to its low extraction—did not cross the threshold of respectable households and therefore, much less likely ours, the handiwork of classicism. The contact with it stopped with the commercial interchange.

(See the biography of Vicente Greco which contains an anecdote on that subject.)


From De Caro's biography of Vicente Greco:


He [Vicente Greco (1888-1924)] does not quit playing the other instruments [flute, piano, guitar] until he discovers by chance a box on the top of his parent's wardrobe. Opening it, he was astounded by an instrument unknown to him (words that Vicente reported to me).


He asks his mother what it is and to whom it belongs, to which she responds: “It is a concertina that was given to us by a befriended family”.

It is not surprising, knowing the predisposition of this young fellow, that enchantment immediately took hold of him. Taking possession of this instrument, he begins to cultivate it and within a month plays a waltz of Waldteufel, a polka, and a tango!

He studies day and night without letting go of the instrument that he considers his treasure, adding sounds from new songs.

The Discovery of the Bandoneon


People, astonished about such mastery, gather in the street to listen to him, and word spreads throughout the neighborhood. Attracted by the fame of this new performer, “El pardo” Sebastián Ramos Mejía arrives at the house of the Grecos and asks to hear him.

Foreseeing the “stuff” blossoming virtuoso he advises the parents to buy him a real bandoneon. It is obvious that he will excel on that instrument. Friends and family collect a common fund and after a long search, since the instrument was then very rare, the acquire the coveted instrument and bestow it on the child prodigy of 14 years.



It is still a matter of debate how the bandoneon, an instrument developed in the 1840s in Germany, came to and attracted the attention of musicians in Argentina. De Caro, son of an owner of a store for musical instruments, surely was a reliable witness to the fact that the instrument was not a common one in the first decade of the twentieth century. And from his account of the acquisition of Greco's first bandoneon, one can surmise that the purchase of such an instrument was a considerable expense—especially for families of humble means, like Greco's. In fact, bandoneons were expensive instruments, as the following newspaper advertisement of 1914 shows:


Of course, violins for $25 or guitars for $30 would not have been high quality instruments, but the initial investment, especially when one still learning to play the instrument, for a bandoneon is significantly higher. It is not surprising that the Greco family had to rely and friends and family to purchase an instrument for their talented youngster.



(© 2017 Wolfgang Freis)