The Kings of Tango: Julio De Caro

The Kings of Tango: with Julio De Caro,

the popular composer of “Buen amigo”, “Todo corazon”, and “Guardia vieja” [An interview conducted by Ernesto E. de la Fuente, Buenos Aires, 1928]

Julio De Caro is one of the youngest composers of Buenos Aires. What is more, his particular appearance makes him seem even younger than he is. Optimism issues from his demeanor, and his words can not conceal the satisfaction that saturates his spirit in view of the artistic perspectives unfolding in his future.

—Porteño, good friend De Caro?

—With pedigree. I was born at the corner of Catamarca and Méjico, where I also spent the years of my childhood and carried out unforgettable pranks in the company of other neighborhood kids.

—Unforgettable pranks?

—Good heavens, they were indeed. The glass panes of the street lights and the door-to-door salesmen, which were our preferred victims, could tell you about it.

—You were not inclined toward music, then?

—Exactly. My father was a musician and did not wish that I would become one, too. Therefore, and much to my regret , I went through the grades of primary school in order to enter, later, the Colegio Nacional Mariano Moreno.

—What was your goal?

—To be a doctor, but a good one. In spite of my artistic success, I still believe that I could have become a physician capable of being recognized and making an impression.

—But...

—There are things in life that can not be foreseen, since they appear to have been arranged by destiny.

—As with your beginnings in music?

—I owe them to my father. In the hours when I was free from school work I learned solfege and violin—out of obligation more than preference—but by dint of force, it seems I made good progress, as my family and other people that came to our house asserted.

—And your first success?

—It was a coincidence, since I had never played in public before and never considered doing so. Neither did I apply myself to musical composition until, all of a sudden, something awoke in me that could be called the musical instinct. I was a sleeper, so to speak.

—When did you have your debut?

—I was hardly 15 years old. One afternoon, a friend and I decided to go downtown to a dance that was going to take place. The orchestra of my good friend Firpo, that performed with enviable success, used to be there.

—And?

—During one of the intermissions, some of my friends asked me to go to the orchestra stand and play a piece. I did it not without some discomfort, but since I was already put in a trance to confront the situation I tried to accomplish it as best I could.

—A success?

—Complete. I was much applauded, and one moment later my good friend Arolas called on me to offer me the position of first violin in his orchestra. I did not accept. First of all I wanted to continue my studies. He asked me to play with him for only one month, and with the consent of my father I did so.

—And you abandoned your studies?

—It was inevitable. My unexpected triumphs pleased me and I could not give up the musical career anymore.

—And your first tango composition?

—I conceived it while I was working in the Arolas ensemble, one night when we were performing at a cabaret in the center. It was “Mala pinta”, a tango that later attained a really considerable success and which encouraged me to proceed in my career as a composer.

—Which other successful works do you remember?

—It would be impossible for me to remember the names of all my tangos. There are perhaps more than a hundred. But “Buen amigo”, “Tu promesa”, “Mala Junta”, “El Malevo”, “Copacabana”, “Tiny”, “Todo corazón”, “Guardia Vieja”, among others, were widely recognized.

—With practical and positive results?

—With success in every sense, even more since I started to make recordings with my orchestra, which I set up together with my brothers Francisco and Emilio and the friends Maffia, Laurenz, Blasco and Sciarreta.

—And your plans for the future?

—There are many, but I think I must make a trip to Europe very soon, where we will have the opportunity to work intensely. I have already received some extremely favorable offers that I would regret not to accept.

—Also dressed up as gauchos?

—Disguised as gauchos, you mean. Believe me, it pains me to think that it is necessary to have recourse to such means in order to excite the audience in Europe.

—Now that your career is definitely on track, do you have any particular ambition?

—To go to New York, to the joyful people of Broadway, and show them that tango is beautiful, that they do not understand it, and then—playing it in its various styles—make them understand it well: right in the middle of that world of joy, profusion, excitement, and life.

—Which are the strongest satisfactions that your musical career has bestowed you?

—The sympathy that the Argentinian public is showing me, the smiles with which the people of Buenos Aires greet me. There are many among them who praise me and whose words and charm make me immensely happy. However, one great satisfaction that will allow me to take another big step in my career remains to be fulfilled.

—What is it?

—An invitation by the Prince of Wales to come to London in order to promote the “genuine Argentinian tango” there.

—Did he have the opportunity to become acquainted with it?

—I performed with my orchestra at one of the private parties given in his honor when he was in Buenos Aires. One tango, which he had requested, had to be repeated seven times. And after the wish of the prestigious visitor had been granted, he said to me:

—“You must go to London.”

—“I shall go, your Highness” I answered. And I expect that within the next eight months I will be performing in the British capital. Upon his request, I sent the Prince of Wales a series of records with Argentinian tangos, and I treasure the letter in which he thanked me for the gift as one of my most precious souvenirs.

—So, De Caro, are you a happy man?

—To date, I can state that I am. But I will be much more so the day of my debut in the capital of the great empire, when I see the successor to the crown attending my concert; and that day, too, when I shall succeed in imposing the tango criollo in the midst of the bustle and feverish joyfulness of the Broadway nights.

Remarks

De Caro's Debut

In his autobiography, published in 1964, De Caro offered a slightly different account of his debut as a tango musician. According to this later version, he was close to 18 years old and played "La cumparsita" with the Firpo orchestra at the “Palais de Glace”. Since “La cumparsita” was composed and premiered during the carnival season of 1917, De Caro must have been at least 17 years old (his 18th birthday falling on December 11, 1917), and not 15 as stated in the interview.

Furthermore, according to his autobiography, he started to play in Arola's orchestra secretly, without the consent of his father. When his father demanded that De Caro quit the orchestra and he refused, he was shown the door and for many years had no further contact with his father.

Tango “Buen amigo”

Julio De Caro dedicated his tango “Buen amigo” to a distinguished Argentinian physician, Enrique Finochietto, who had saved the lives of a friend's wife and child. Finochietto was also a tango enthusiast and admirer of De Caro. He was a regular visitor of De Caro's performances at the “Chanteclair” cabaret in the mid-1920s. De Caro composed a tango, dedicated it to Finochietto, and named it "Buen amigo" in the latter's honour.

The Prince of Wales

Edward III, the Prince of Wales, visited Buenos Aires in 1925. A gala dance in his honor was given at the cabaret “Ciro's”, where which the Julio De Caro orchestra provided the musical entertainment. In the course of the evening, Edward also entered the dance floor during a performance of the tango “Buen amigo”. Shortly thereafter, De Caro was privately introduced to Edward in the office of the cabaret's director. Edward expressed his admiration for De Caro's music and the tango “Buen amigo”, in particular. At a later date, De Caro paid his respects to Edward by sending recordings of his orchestra (which included “Buen amigo”) and, at the occasion of Edwards's marriage, dedicated his tango “Dulce Hogar” to the then Duke of Windsor.





©2017 Translation and Commentary Wolfgang Freis.

Tango Dancers in Germany, 1913-14

All over Europe, the dance season 1913-14 stood under the sign of tango. The dance had become popular in Paris, where conquered dance halls, cabarets, and theaters. In the wake of the Parisian tango fever, Berlin emerged as a European center of tango, second only to Paris. In February and March of that year, the first international dance competitions were held at the Metropolpalast; tango was considered the most difficult discipline. During the summer, Wolfgang Koebner—himself an amateur dance competitor—published his Tanz-Brevier, which described Tango (and other modern dances) for self-instruction. As a consequence, tango was danced and taught during the following season even in small provincial cities of Germany.

The greatest publicity for tango was provided by an unexpected party: the German emperor. It was rumored in the German press that Wilhelm II had issued an order forbidding his military officers to dance tango under thread of thread of discharge. Official authorities were quick to announce that no edict had been issued but that, in a private conversation, the emperor had merely expressed his opinion that tango did not befit the image of a dashing Prussian officer. But it was to no avail: the emperor's remark was easy fodder for the press and the news quickly spread world wide.

The publication of the “emperor's edict” catapulted tango into the forefront of the public eye. From just being the latest craze from Paris, it became a sensation. Everyone wanted to know what it was, how it was danced. In an age without television, an important role in the dissemination of tango as a spectacle fell to professional dancers who performed in theaters, music halls, and cabarets. The years 1913-14 were a boom for dance artists offering tango in their repertoire. The following pictures are a selection of promotional photographs of dancers that toured the cabarets in Germany and neighboring countries.

I. M. Artur avec Mlle. Nelly, dernier creation de danses mondaines

The newest creation of sophisticated dances: tango! The tango fever issuing from the capital of the sophisticated world, Paris, it seems suitable to begin our presentation with a (perhaps) French dance pair. “Dances mondaines” is equivalent to “international” and “elegant” dances. The repertoire of Monsieur and Mademoiselle offered other modern society dances as well. Their “sensational attire”—an indispensable accessory for sophisticated dancers—was designed by Ateliers in Paris and Berlin.

II. Henry and Jeanette: Tango, Valse acrobatic, La Furlana, Maxime brésilienne, Apache Dance and all Modern Dances

Another French dance couple? Their mailing address was: Berlin West, Martin-Luther-Straße 16. Foreign stage names were quite common among cabaret artists.

III. Hans and Margot Fried, Song and Dance

The Frieds performed as singers and dancers. A “Tango argentine” was a number that introduced into their program in 1913.

IV. May Allen and Partner, American Eccentric and Society Dancers 

From the start, tango was an “international” dance, performed by an international group of professional dancers. To the left, Allen and Partner sport their tango outfit; to the right, they can be seen as “The happy Hooligans”, their “eccentric” dance number.

V. Carry & Leon, the Brilliant Tango Duet, the Best Dance Pair Today [1913]: Tango Argentino, Tango Parisienne, Maxixe brésilienne, Walce [sic.] Acrobatic.

Giving dance lessons probably was an additional source of income for stage dancers. Some tango dancers added higher academic titles to their names. This couple also danced under the name of “Professeur Leon & Madame Carry”.

VI. Mme. Cleo Tillier and Harry Neuland

And after tango came the “furlana”. During its greatest popularity, the “morality” of tango was repeatedly questioned. And in questions of morality, the church was the highest authority. As newspapers reported, a demonstration of tango had been arranged for Pope Pius X., so that he may judge whether the dance offended good morals. The pope asked the dancers if they knew the “furlana”, a dance from his native Venice. That was a very nice dance, too!

The Vatican quickly disclaimed the report and clarified that such a demonstration had never taken place. But to no avail, the furlana became “the fashionable dance with papal blessing”, and dance performers and teachers included it in their program.

VII. The Barclay Duo (1914): Modern Dance Duet

The Barclay's repertory was similar to that of the Tillier-Neuland Duo: tango, maxixe, furlana, as well as “english song and dance”, imitations of ice-skating and valse acrobatic. New in their program was the “romana”. After the furlana, another folksy, Italian dance made inroads into sophisticated society. Resorting to Italian dances was a consequence of the alleged remarks made by Pius X. It should not come as a surprise that they were performed together with tango and maxixe, as they were counted among the “exotic” folk dances.

 VIII. The Championship Dancers: Fredy Rudeny and Daisy, best modern dance duet

At he beginning of the 20th century, sports, competition, and the pursuits of records became an integral part of public life. Shortly before WWI, the first international dance competitions were held. To be championship dancers or even winners became a seal of quality.

IX. From Russian Dance to Tango: The Korkoffsky

A dance team based in Ostende, the Korkoffsky became initially known as an “award-winning Russians dance act”. As the tango fever approached its apogee, they were awarded a prize and diploma as tango dancers by at a congress of professional tango dancers, held in Brussels in 1913. Subsequently, tango became part of their advertised program.

X. Monsieur le Professeur Ernest et Mademoiselle Claire: Championship Dance Couple, Tango and Modern Dances

In the years 1913-14, Ernest and Claire danced their way through the cabarets of the major German cities, as well as Vienna and Paris. A the world championship held at the Admiralspalast, Berlin, in 1914, the couple took first place in the maxixe competition. They were German, incidentally. (Perhaps Ernst and Klärchen?)

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.

The Kings of Tango: Francisco Canaro

Canaro in Berlin

An interview with Francisco Canaro, the composer of “Cara Sucia” and “¡Sufra!” [Conducted by Ernesto de la Fuente, Buenos Aires, 1928]

Who does not remember „Cara Sucia“, the tango by Francisco Canaro that became so exceptionally popular some 12 years ago? Who did not at some point hum its cheerful music or repeat some of the cheeky and daring lines that came with it? Possibly only few indigenous tangos achieved the sensational success of this piece by Canaro, the tireless composer who today enjoys the favors of fortune in all its aspects. Still young, he lives happily and quietly in his residence in Belgrano where—sitting in front of a small harmonium in nights of inspiration—he writes down on staves the harmonious notes of his new pieces.

—“Are you a happy man?“ we ask him as he offers us an excellent Havana cigar.

—“Absolutely,” he responds. “I think that in my profession I cannot ask for more. I believe it is luck that has always accompanied me, and I would be an ungrateful person if I denied it or tried to ask for more. ”

—“Which one of your pieces brought you the most flattering result?”

—“'Cara Sucia', which then, around 1916, had a success I did not expect, even though I had achieved a triumph before with 'El Chamuyo'. That one was performed first in 1914 at the Nacional Norte, located where the Gran Splendid stands today.

—“Financial success as well?“

—“So much that more that 40,000 records were pressed and some 28,000 copies of the sheet music were sold—at a time when counterfeiting was not as developed as today and the prices set were truly remunerative.”

Canaro then recalls an interesting incident brought about by 'Cara Sucia'. It led to court proceedings in which he was accused of having plagiarized the music. The matter went before court, which confirmed his copyright after some interesting musical expert testimony had been obtained. It was the first time that the judiciary had to deal with a case of artistic property.

—“How many tangos have you published until today?” we ask him then.

—“More than a hundred ...”

—“And which were, in your opinion, the most successful ones?”

—„'Sentimento Gaucho', which won an award, 'Nobleza de Arrabal', '¡Sufra!', 'Se Acabaron los Otarios', 'Federación', 'Pollito', 'Matasanos' and many more.

—“And as an artistic success, which one was your greatest triumph?”

—“In my judgement, it was 'El Pajaro Azul' which I have recently published and in which I carried out a revolutionary attempt within the regular forms. I believe that the moment has come to give our popular music new aspects. I tried to impress on my last piece, which I call a tango fantasy, a certain classical character. I avoided the association with a text that possibly would not match a composition of this kind.”

—“Do you think there exists no immediate danger that popular enthusiasm could diminish, causing the decline of that aspect of our national music?”

—“Absolutely. And, on the other hand, tango is conquering many countries in Europe in which it was nothing less than opposed before.”

—“Except in Paris.“

—“Of course. There, tango is something indispensable for the life and happiness of Paris, the city that enjoys itself. One could say it is a necessity. But in Germany, for example, it is finding more and more admirers every day. Proof of it is that I was asked to set up a real orquesta típica 'de gauchos' that soon is to perform in the most important halls of Berlin.”

—“Do you have interesting memories of your stay abroad as a leader of the orchestras you assembled?”

—“Many, especially from France, where I even became a popular personality. Of course, within this special world of those who make life a source of almost inexhaustible happiness and well-being ... ”

—“Perhaps an anecdote of your stay in Europe?”

Canaro muses and smiles.

—“Anecdotes, many, every day; but perhaps none is so interesting as an incident that occurred to me in Berlin. The same day I arrived in the city, a stout theater impresario, who only spoke German, invited me to hear a “criollo” singer that performed argentine tangos every night with great success in a well-known cabaret. As agreed we went there and eventually the anticipated number came up. A gaucho with bolas, spurs, and everything a gaucho must have did his presentation to impressive applause. The man began his task singing tangos that were greatly celebrated. But even though I tried to listen very carefully, I could only understand a word now and then. Stung by curiosity, I had him invited to our table and the 'gaucho argentino' approached shortly thereafter.”

—“'¿Cómo le va, mi amigo, de qué pagos es Usted?' I asked him, padding him on the back. The man turned pale and responded with a pleading expression: 'Pardon, ne dites rien; d'argentain je n'ai que des vêtements...'. He was a Frenchman, dressed up as a gaucho, who put on 'America' in Germany. As you see, tango is a real industry in Europe which will soon become a gold mine for those with the spirit and desire to exploit it.”

Today Canaro is a wealthy man. As we talk about him as a private person he does not try to deny it. He invests his wealth in real estate. He owns already a considerable number of properties. The rental income alone would allow him to live in luxury and comfort.

Recording sound discs is his favorite occupation, perhaps because it is more lucrative. The moment a tango reaches popularity a good 100,000 copies can be pressed.

—“Is there perhaps a secret, Canaro, to being successful in a musical career?” we ask.

—“There is one,” he responds; —“to idealize the popular sentiment.”

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

The Kings of Tango: Francisco Lomuto

The Kings of Tango: Francisco Lomuto

An interview with the composer Francisco J. Lomuto, the composer of “Muñequita”, “Nunca Más”, and “Pa que te Acordés” [Conducted by Ernesto E. de la Fuente, Buenos Aires, 1928]

As we reach the home of Francisco J. Lomuto, the popular composer, we realize that we have arrived a little before the agreed time. He has promised to let us hear some of his latest musical productions, namely three tangos that have not been named yet.

As we reach the home of Francisco J. Lomuto, the popular composer, we realize that we have arrived a little before the agreed time. He has promised to let us hear some of his latest musical productions, namely three tangos that have not been named yet.

A pair of beautiful pomeranians, having received us at first with growls, now appear to be willing to partake in friendship by cuddling up to us, yet not without taking certain precautions.

A noisy breaking, a stopping car, and the author of “Muñequita” steps out of his car.

Lomuto is a devotee of velocity. He affirms that his greatest pleasure is not just to speed, but to fly through those streets of God on which Man had the bad idea of placing traffic officers.

—”Is there anything more unnecessary than those coppers who want to coerce us into traveling by car as if in a carriage being pulled by an old hack.”

—“Safety comes first!”, say some posters displayed here and there and, up to a certain point, we agree with them...

—“Why, then, do they allow the sales of cars?... The streets should be as free as my keyboard, on which my fingers perform fancywork without having to fear that someone commands them to stop...”

Francisco Lomuto

Lomuto lives quietly and apparently without many worries. He is perhaps another one of those musicians who have gained celebrity and money.

He lives in a beautiful, recently built house in company of his mother who, when he was young, compelled him to study music in spite of his own completely contrary predilections.

Among his piano, a mountain of pieces, and his inspiration: there he is at ease and expects to work a lot, because he is young, has energy, and flows over with enthusiasm.

—“Many things in preparation?...”

—“A few tangos that are almost finished, but I have to polish them a little more.”

—“Do you think they will be successful?”

—“In fact, I do; and leaving all modesty aside, I believe they will be to the liking of the audience because their melodies seem to me in no way ordinary but rather pleasant...”

Without saying more—and while the valet is placing a flask containing liqueur and multicolored glasses on a table—he starts playing the first notes of his latest tango: on that piano which he still keeps like a pleasant memory of his early times of incertitude and struggle.

It is a subtle harmony, a country tango, full of pleasant melodies and uncommon variations, with which the composer wanted to step away a bit from the commonplaces of the música típica that almost always cast it with the same molds.

Lomuto and his pomeranians

After having performed two more, equally pleasant tangos, in which Lomuto tried to escape the usual themes:

—“I still have not given them titles,” he tells us. “I have presently so many things on my hand that I almost cannot give my music the attention it deserves...”

Indeed, as it happens to popular composers and performers, Lomuto has to set aside many hours of the week for making records—a task that requires a greater dedication than the public thinks.

—“Which of your tangos had the greatest success?”

Our interlocutor ponders briefly and then responds:

—“There are many, but to be remembered as such are two or three of them. I could name 'La Rezongona', 'Muñequita', and 'Nunca Más', which have attained decisive success. Now, some time ago, I published 'A Toda Vela' that was liked very much.”

—“Have you not made compositions of other types?”

—“Some. For example, the dance numbers 'More more', a one-step that became popular quite unexpectedly; the same as the foxtrot 'Hay que aprender a bailar' and 'Rosicler', a waltz that I wrote almost haphazardly and was well liked.”

As the author of “Muñequita” is, in fact, one of the few composers of the country that have not yet gone on a “tournée” of the Old World, we question him in this respect.

—“I have not gone away from Buenos Aires,” he tells us, “because, to say the truth, I have not had the time to do so. I have always been the slave of unavoidable tasks that have tied me to this city, which I love with such immense affection...”

—“But do you have the intention to follow, at least, the unavoidable path to Paris?”

—“Perhaps I will do it next year. Although I must tell you that I sent a brother of mine to the 'City of Light', who has had the most favorable success with his orquesta típica.

Lomuto as well has savored the delight of immediate triumph with several of his compositions. At the tango competitions at the Gran Splendid, he met with sensational approval by the audience, which had to give its verdict on some tangos and letting 'Pa que te Acordés' prevail among others. This tango achieved an enormous dissemination.

Advertisement with the winners of the first Disco Nacional tango competition

Nevertheless, the tireless composer feels that something is missing in his life. He yearns for even greater triumphs and has faith in the sense that he must fulfill his intentions.

Therefore, when he remembers his first tango, published almost unnoticed more than 15 years ago, and the applause it reaped later, he cannot help but get emotional.

And then, sitting at the piano, he lets us hear the chords of “Muñequita”, that tango which resonated from one end of the country to the other.

¿Dónde estará
Mi amor, que no puedo hallarlo?
Yo no hago más que buscarlo
porque sin él ya no es vida.
Probé la fruta prohibida.
Probé el encanto de amarlo.
¿Dónde estará
Mi amor, que no puedo hallarlo?

And, as if to stifle his emotion, he pours down the glass of liqueur that has been waiting for its turn up to now on the silver tray.

Remarks

Francisco Lomuto (1893-1950) was the oldest of 10 children. His father was a violinist, and Francisco learned to play the piano from his mother. Three of his brothers also became musicians.

Early in his career, he worked at the music and phonograph store Casa Tagini and played music scores on the piano for prospective customers. (Casa Tagini was the largest store of this kind in Buenos Aires until Max Glücksmann took over Casa Lepage and expanded into the music business.) He composed his first tango, “El 606”, at age 13 in 1906. “Muñequita”, composed in 1918 and recorded by Roberto Firpo, was his first great success.

Lomuto formed his own orchestra in 1923 and started recording for Max Glücksmann's Odeon Disco Nacional in 1924. Together with Francisco Canaro and Roberto Firpo, his was among the most successful orchestras of the record label.

His tango “Pa que te Acordés” won the second prize of Disco Nacional's first tango competition in 1924, four years before this interview was conducted. (“Sentimiento gaucho” by Francisco and Rafael Canaro to a text by Juan Andrés Caruso took first place.) For the competitions of 1925 and 1927, Lomuto provided the performing orchestra, and his tango “De buena fe” won 6th prize in 1926.

Lomuto never performed in Paris, but visited Spain in 1947. His younger brother Victor went to Paris in 1921 (thus, more likely on his own accord than being 'sent' by his brother) and spend many years in Europe. He played in the orchestras of Manuel Pizarro and Bianco-Bachicha, among others, in Paris and toured with his own group throughout Europe. None of the other brothers of Francisco Lomuto appear to have worked in Paris.



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