The Ingenious Pedro Blanco

In his autobiography, Julio De Caro reported the discovery of an ingenious bandoneonist. In 1925, Luis Petrucelli wanted to leave the orchestra, and De Caro needed a player to replace him. By chance, he heard a young musician who impressed him so much that he offered him the job at once.

Luis Petrucelli

His decision was not unproblematic. The musician who had to be replaced was no black horse but a well-known and accomplished bandoneonist. It was a difficult task for a young musician with little experience to take the place of an experience professional.

What is more, one of the most distinguished instrumentalists played the first bandoneon in De Caro's orchestra: Pedro Maffia. It comes as no surprise that Maffia was concerned about De Caro's decision to hire an unexperienced bandoneonist. His own reputation depended on the quality of the orchestra with which he performed. For the young musician, it was no different. To sit next to the great Maffia meant to raise the bas higher than it was already. (Years later in an interview, he admitted not to have closed an eye the night before his first performance with the orchestra.)

Pedro Maffia

It bespeaks the care and foresight with which the De Caro brothers attended to the young bandoneonist by introducing him to the orchestra only after they were sure that he was ready for the task. In an orchestra, it cannot be taken for granted that a new colleague—especially a young one—is welcomed with open arms. De Caros remark that, at their first encounter, Maffia barely greeted the neophyte and that the bassist Leopoldo Thompson for a start scrutinized him head to toe speaks volumes about the customs among musicians. To enter an established orchestra as a young and quite unexperienced musician is a challenging task—even more so if one has to hold one's ground next to an outstanding performer of the instrument. Obviously, Julio De Caro recognized the talent of the young musician. The fact that he and his brother carefully prepared him for his new assignment shows also that they knew the mentality of musicians very well and had enough experience to foster and preserve the new talent.

The bassist Leopoldo Thompson (standing left) with the orchestra Francisco Canaro, 1916

( From: Julio De Caro, El Tango en mis Recuerdos)

It was shortly before the Vogue's Club was closing until the season of the following year (1925), when Luis Petrucelli informed me that he would leave for Mar del Plata in order to combine work and summer vacation with his fiancée. I tried to dissuade him from doing so, but when he promised to rejoin the orchestra upon his return, I agreed, adding: “The bandoneon that is going to replace you will be the creditor of your seat. Well, let us be friends and we will see what the future brings.” Straightaway I focussed on the search for a new bandoneonist and tried to find out where I could find Enrique Pollet, from whom I had received the best professional references as an instrumentalist.

I was told that he performed with the orchestra of Roberto Goyneche in a café in Villa del Parque, and it was said that the group was going to dissolve soon. I went there to take a look at the bandoneons. Pollet played very well but the second bandoneonist, whom I did not know, was by no means inferior to him and had, in addition, a good sense for interpretation.

At the end of the set, I decided to hire him instead of Pollet. I asked him his name and if he knew who I was. “My name is Pedro Blanco and I have known you, Julio, for many years. I was a young kid then and listened to the orchestra of you and your partners Minotto and Eustaquio [Laurenz] in Montevideo. You do remember the Laurenz brothers!? They are my stepbrothers.”

Pedro Blanco Acosta, „Pedro B. Laurenz“

“Yes, I can place you exactly. Now more than ever, and since you are leaving this orchestra, I would like to propose that you replace Luis Petrucelli and play together with the great Pedro Maffia. And, in order not to break with the tradition of your family name, I have already renamed you professionally: Pedro B. Laurenz.”

“This offer would be the greatest thing for me, since I am finishing here tonight. But I do not think that I am up to the task because I have been playing publicly only for a short time. To play in your orchestra and replace Petrucelli, Maestro, is not easy.”

I tried to build his confidence: “Let me take care of your concerns. The only thing I ask from you is that before your debut, you rehearse seriously with my brother Francesco and me in private. Well then, I expect you tomorrow with your bandoneon at my brother's. Good luck and listen well to me. Agreed?”

As Petrucelli was not to leave before his replacement—already found in the person of Laurenz—was ready, the latter dedicated himself completely to practicing in order to announce his joining the orchestra as soon as he was in best condition and equal to the others.

Even though this was not news anymore and known by all members of the orchestra, Maffia asked me inquisitively who he was. “He is a great fellow,” I responded. “And even though he is new, I am sure you will like him!” He was very concerned, and it almost seemed to be an insult to his professional reputation that someone in his position would have to share his responsibility with an unknown. Thus the situation … but fate had bestowed a Pedro Laurenz on me. If I mention this, in particular, it is only because my discovery had a special artistic significance to my ensemble.

At the first session, Maffia—I remember it well—hardly deigned to greet Laurenz, and [Leopoldo] “el negro” Thompson examined him head to toe. Meanwhile Francisco, who knew what class he had, was smiling, imagining what would happen when this great learner opened his “pot”.

The programmed tangos were: “Todo corazón”, “Triste”, Cobián's “Los dopados“ (today “Los mareados“), Delfino's “Agua bendita”, etc. As Laurenz played the first measures, Maffia—who was watching him from the corner of his eye—could not hide his admiration. And what could one say as this novice really got started, attacked the arpeggios, and stuck to the first voice like a shadow. When we had finished, Maffia besieged me with overwhelming joy, wanting to know where I had found this “genius”. Like that, Laurenz, on his own account, had earned with one leap a position that is attained by only a few.

Laurenz played in De Caro's orchestra until 1932. Maffia wanted to start his own ensemble and left the orchestra in 1926. He was replaced Armando Blasco who, together with Laurenz, made up a “much talked-about duo” (De Caro). The De Caro orchestra broke up in 1932. De Caro than formed a larger ensemble with four bandoneons rather than two. The players were: Carlos and Romualdo Marcucci, Gabriel Clausi, and Félix Lispisker. Carlos Marcucci played the lead bandoneon. He also performed as a concert soloist and remained in the De Caro orchestra until 1953.