Tuesday, February 26, 2019

„Amarras“ entworren




Ein gemeinsamer Beitrag von Daniela Pastina und El Victrolero.






Von den vielen Begriffen, mit denen der argentinische Tango in Verbindung gebracht wird, ist Tanzmusik wohl der geläufigste. Obwohl Tango früh als Tanz besungen und beschrieben wurde, war er nie ausschließlich Tanzmusik, sondern wurde auch als Musik zum Zuhören komponiert und aufgeführt. Eine andere gängige Vorstellung sieht Tango als eine Musik des Kummers und Schmerzes. Diese Vorstellung ist keine der Folge der Musik, sondern eine Reaktion auf die Texte vieler Tangolieder. Es gehört zu den Besonderheiten des Tango, dass man sich bei einer unterhaltsamen Freizeitbeschäftigung—einem Gesellschaftstanz—zu Texten amüsiert, die Angelegenheiten der unangenehmsten Art in Erinnerung bringen: verlorene Liebe, Täuschung und Alkoholismus bis hin zum Tod.

Natürlich ist es nicht die Thematik des Elends, an dem das Tangopublikum Vergnügen findet, sondern vielmehr die Qualität der Dichtung. Der Tango hat glücklicherweise das Interesse einiger hervorragender Dichter wachgerufen, die die Ausdruckskraft von Liedertexten weit über das Niveau der Allgemeinplätze anderer Unterhaltungsmusikstile erhoben haben. Hómero Manzi, Enrique Cadícamo und Enrique Santos Discepolo sind nur die bekanntesten unter ihnen. Der Name Carmelo Santiago, der sich mehr als Filmregisseur und -produzent einen Namen machte, wird nur wenigen Tangoliebhabern bekannt sein. Nichtsdestoweniger schrieb er einige bezaubernde Tangotexte, von denen Amarras auf Grund seiner hervorragenden Aufnahme mit Héctor Mauré und dem Orchester Juan D'Arienzo unter Tangotänzern der beliebteste sein wird. Weitere Texte sind: La melodía de nuestro adiós (mit Musik von Fioravanti Di Cicco, aufgenommen von Francisco Canaro),Cuando el corazón (komponiert und aufgenommen von Francisco Canaro; dieser Tango wurde auch von Roberto Maida im Film Dos amigos y un amor gesungen) und La melodía del corazón (komponiert, nach Chopin, von Fioravanti Di Cicco und Héctor María Artola; aufgenommen von Edgar Donato).

1. Die Poesie des Leides


Der Text von Amarras stellt ein ergreifendes Beispiel für die Themen, Sinnbilder und psychologische Glaubwürdigkeit eines traditionellen Tangostextes dar. Das Bild, das vom Gedicht entworfen wird, führt den Hörer zu einem der mythischen Ursprungsorte des Tangos: dem Hafen. Die Beschreibung eines ausgedienten und vertäuten Kohlenschiffs, mit dem sich der Akteur des Gedichtes vergleicht, beschwört eindrucksvoll eines der klassischen Tangomotive herauf: eine verlorene Liebe. Der Akteur, von seiner Geliebten verlassen und nicht fähig, sich von seiner Vergangenheit zu lösen, sieht sich jeden Grundes seiner Existenz beraubt. Wie eine römische Ruine in einem romantischen Gemälde wird das Kohlenschiff zum modernistischem Symbol einer vergangenen Tätigkeit, einem Überbleibsel ohne Aussicht auf einen anderen Gebrauch als einer Mahnung über die Kurzlebigkeit aller menschlichen Errungenschaften.

Beispiel 1: Amarras

Die Musik scheint, wie es oft der Fall war, vor dem Text komponiert worden zu sein. Anzeichen dafür finden sich in der formalen Struktur der Verse und Strophen. Übereinstimmend mit der Musik ist der Text in zwei Strophen aufgeteilt (als A bzw. B in der linken Spalte des obigen Beispiels angegeben). Die Strophen wiederum sind in drei Abschnitte aufgegliedert (in der linken Spalte des obigen Beispiels von 1 bis 3 nummeriert) , die ihrerseits aus zwei Zwei- oder Dreizeilern bestehen. (Die Gruppierung der Verse in Zwei- und Dreizeiler beruht auf dem Reimschema, das im obigen Beispiel in Fettschrift markiert wurde.)

Man sagt, dass die erste Person Singular die bedeutendste grammatikalische Struktur der Tangolyrik ist. Kaum ein anderes Gedicht könnte das besser veranschaulichen als Amarras. Der Inhalt der erste Strophe (A.1-3) beschäftigt sich ausschließlich mit dem Akteur des Gedichtes und beschreibt seine Geistesverfassung. Fast jeder Anfangsvers der Zwei- und Dreizeiler der ersten Strophe beginnt mit einem Zeitwort in der ersten Person Singular: „vago“ (ich irre), „soy” (ich bin), „siento” (ich fühle), und „lloro” (ich beweine). Darüber hinaus sind diese Zeitwörter akzentuiert: musikalisch ausgedrückt fallen sie alle auf den schweren Taktteil (siehe die Erläuterung der Musik unten). Die markante Position dieser aktiven Zeitwörter in der ersten Person Singular weist auf die Gemütsverfassung des Akteurs hin und unterstreicht dessen Verzweiflung.

Nur der erste Zweizeiler des zweiten Abschnitts (A.2) weicht etwas von diesem Muster ab und beginnt mit einem Personalpronomen—es überrascht kaum, es ist: „yo“ (ich). Gerade in diesem Zweizeiler wird die Verbindung zwischen dem Kohlenschiff und dem Akteur klar artikuliert. Einerseits stellen die ersten Worte der beiden Verse (im folgenden Beispiel unterstrichen) die Verbindung zwischen dem Kohlenschiff und dem Akteur her. Andererseits wird mit Hilfe von Binnenreimen auf den Worten “atado” (gebunden), “pasado” (Gestern) und “anclado” (verankert) eine Veränderung des Versrhythmus hervorgerufen, die auf die Analogie zwischen der Unfähigkeit des Akteurs, seine Vergangenheit hinter sich zu lassen, sowie des am Ufer verankerten Kohlenschiffs hinweist.

Beispiel 2: Amarras, A.2, erster Zweizeiler

Im zweiten Zweizeiler ändert sich die Klangqualität der Worte, mit der der Dichter das Gefühl des Zurückgehalten-Werdens beschreibt. Während der erste Zweizeiler viele offene Vokale enthielt (siehe die Binnenreime), werden die a-Klänge durch verbundene r-Konsonanten im zweiten Zweizeiler kürzer und härter (siehe Fettschrift im folgenden Beispiel). Als solle der durch die Vertäuung hervorgerufene Schmerz hörbar gemacht werden, setzt sich dieser Zweizeiler aus rau und schärfer klingenden Worten zusammen. Auch die Wiederholung des Klangmusters „como garfios, como garras“ verstärkt das Gefühl der Verzweiflung, das der Akteur in diesen Zeilen ausdrückt.

Beispiel 3: Amarras, A. 2, zweiter Zweizeiler

Die zweite Strophe (B.1-3) wendet sich von Akteur ab und richtet die Aufmerksamkeit auf die verlorene Liebe. Dieser Wechsel des Blickfeldes schlägt sich auch in der rhythmischen Struktur der Verse nieder. In der vorangegangenen Strophe fielen alle rhythmischen Schwerpunkte auf das erste Wort jedes Zwei- oder Dreizeilers. Hier in der zweiten Strophe beginnen alle Verse mit unbetonten Silben, und der rhythmische Schwerpunkt fällt auf das Ende der Verse. 

Beispiel 4: Amarras, rhythmische Schwerpunkte

Der Effekt dieser Verlagerung ist ein rhythmischer Schwung vorwärts, der auf seine Auflösung am Ende des Verses zustrebt. Der Dichter dehnte den Schwung durch Binnenreime jedoch noch bis zum Ende des jeweiligen Zwei- oder Dreizeilers aus. Im ersten Abschnitt der zweiten Strophe (B.1) tritt die maßgebliche Auflösung erst mit dem letzten Wort des Zweizeilers ein. Die so akzentuierten Worte bilden wiederum den Reim des Abschnitts.

Beispiel 5: Amarras, B.1

Wie in der ersten Strophe setzt sich auch hier der zweite Abschnitt (B.2) inhaltlich von den umgebenden ab. Der Akteur macht wiederum auf sein Missgeschick aufmerksam, was der Dichter durch eine erhöhte rhythmische Spannung mittels Binnenreimen hervorbringt.

Beispiel 6: Amarras, B.2

Mit einem Aufschrei der Verzweiflung erkennt der Akteur hier die Aussichtslosigkeit seiner Situation und findet sich resignierend damit ab, dass nur Tod der ihn von seinen Qualen erlösen kann.

Die Thematik von Amarras ist typisch für viele Tangotexte. Der Vergleich eines unglücklich Verliebten mit einem Kohlenschiff war schon von Enrique Cadícamo in Niebla del Riachuelo verwendet worden. Auch das entsprechende Wortmaterial (wie „amarrado”, „alejarse”, „recalada“ usw.) findet sich dort wieder. Man kann bemängeln, dass Amarras es mit Selbstmitleid, Elend und Tod ein wenig übertreibt, aber man muss auch sehen, dass der Text Teil einer Tradition ist. Natürlich sind Texte wie Amarras Gattungsdichtung, d.h., sie beruhen auf einer Thematik und einem Wortschatz, den man in Tangotexten immer wieder antrifft. Dennoch ist Amarras das Werk eines Dichters, der sich auf Dramatik verstand. Der Text zeigt eine Entwicklung auf, die den Zuhörer von der Beschreibung der Gemütsverfassung des Akteurs in der ersten Strophe bis zur Erkenntnis der Aussichtslosigkeit seiner Situation in der zweiten führt. Das hat viel mit Opernarien aus dem 19. Jahrhundert gemein, die Tangodichter und -musiker als Kinder italienischer und spanischer Einwanderer sicherlich zu Hause gehört hatten. Vincenzo Bellinis Spruch, dass „Oper uns singend weinen, schaudern und sterben lassen muss“ scheint in vielen Tangotexten Resonanz gefunden.

2. Die Poesie der Musik


Unsere vorangehende Erläuterung der poetischen Form und des Inhalts vonAmarrasging auf viele Details ein, um zu verdeutlichen, dass das Gedicht auch ohne die Musik und die wunderbare Aufnahme mit Héctor Mauré und dem Orchester Juan D'Arienzo einen künstlerischen Wert besitzt. Leider können wir keine ebenso detaillierte Darstellung der Musik vorlegen. Es ist uns weder gelungen, etwas über das Leben des Komponisten, Carlos Marchisio, in Erfahrung zu bringen, noch einen Klavierauszug des Tangos aufzutreiben (von einer Partitur von D'Arienzos Arrangement ganz zu schweigen). Wir waren daher für unsere Besprechung ganz auf die allgemein zugänglichen Musikaufnahmen angewiesen.

Amarras ist ein typischer tango canción, d.h, er wurde nicht zum Tanzen, sondern zum Zuhören komponiert. In einem tango canción lag das Interesse im Gesang und der Interpretation des Textes, während das Orchester lediglich eine Begleitfunktion spielte. Wenn ein Tanzorchester einen tango canción spielte, verlegte sich der Schwerpunkt von der Interpretation des Textes auf die Musik. Der Sänger eines Tanzorchester sang niemals den ganzen Text, sondern nur Teile davon. Das Orchester lieferte dann nicht mehr die Begleitung, sondern spielte instrumental über lange Strecken allein. Das ermöglichte es den Arrangeuren, die einzelnen Teile eines Tangostückes nach Belieben zu vertauschen, da der Zusammenhang des Textes nicht mehr maßgebend war. Das künstlerische Interesse einer Tanzorchester-Version liegt im orchestralen Arrangement der Partitur. Eine systematische Auseinandersetzung mit solchen Arrangements wäre in der Tat hochinteressant, sollten sich solche Partituren noch auffinden lassen, aber leider hat man diese Art der Recherche in Argentinien auf das Gröbste vernachlässigt.

Die Musik von Amarras folgt der für einen tango canción typischen Gliederung in zwei Teile. Sie sind im folgenden als A bzw. B gekennzeichnet und stimmen mit den oben besprochenen zwei Strophen des Textes überein. In einer typischen Aufführung imtango-canción-Stil spielt das Orchester eine kurze Einleitung, dann werden alle Strophen in der Reihenfolge des Textes mit den entsprechenden Wiederholungen der Musik gesungen. (Es existiert eine Aufnahme im tango-canción-Stil vonAmarrasmit Héctor Mauré und dem Orchester Héctor Varela. In dieser Fassung wird der ganze Text gesungen, und das Orchester passt sich dem Vortrag von Mauré an, d.h., das Tempo ist flexibler und folgt dem Sänger, nicht den Tänzern.)

Für ein Tanzorchester war es nicht wesentlich, ein Stück in der Reihenfolge des Textes zu spielen. Die einzelnen Teile der Musik konnten nach Belieben umgestellt werden, aber das war keine zwingende Voraussetzung. In Alberto Castillos Aufnahme von Amarraswerden z.B. die Teile A und B, zweimal in Reihenfolge gespielt: zuerst instrumental vom Orchester, danach mit Castillos Gesang. Das Schema der Wiederholungen ist folgendes: ABAB. (Die gesungenen Teile sind durch Fettdruck angezeigt).

Juan D'Arienzos Aufnahme beginnt dagegen mit Teil B in einer instrumentalen Fassung, dann werden A und B gesungen und zum Abschluss wiederholt das Orchester Teil B. Der Sänger setzt noch einmal in dieser letzten Wiederholung ein und singt den letzten Abschnitt (B.3) mit dem gleichen Text wie vorher. Hier ist das Schema der Wiederholungen wie folgt: BAB+[B.1B.2B.3] (Die gesungenen Teile sind durch Fettdruck angezeigt).

Der musikalische Aufbau von Amarras stimmt mit dem des Gedichtes überein. So wie sich jede Textstrophe in drei Abschnitte aufteilen läßt, so gliedern sich auch die entsprechenden Teile der Musik in drei Abschnitte. Die Abschnitte lassen sich wiederum in zwei Phrasen zerlegen, d.h. in einen Vordersatz und einen Nachsatz. Mit wenigen Ausnahmen sind alle Phrasen 4 Takte lang, und die meisten Abschnitte erstrecken sich über 8 Takte.

Beispiel 7 : Amarras, die musikalische Struktur

Die vorangehende Tabelle zeigt an, dass der zweite Abschnitt der ersten Strophe, A.2, aus zwei Phrasen von jeweils 3 Takten besteht und damit einen kürzeren Abschnitt von 6 Takten ergibt. In diesem Abschnitt wird, wie oben erwähnt, der Vergleich zwischen dem Akteur und dem vertäuten Kohlenschiff aufgestellt, der durch eine Verdichtung des Sprachrhythmus mit Hilfe von Binnenreimen zum Ausdruck gebracht wurde. Mit seinen zwei verkürzten Phrasen bildet der musikalische Satz dazu eine einfallsreiche Ergänzung, die die Verdichtung der Versrhythmik mit einer Verkürzung der Phrasierung musikalisch verstärkt. 

Der letzte Abschnitt des Tangos, B.3, weist eine weitere Unregelmäßigkeit in der Phrasenstrukture auf. Anders als der „verdichtete“ Abschnitt A.2, in dem Vorder- und Nachsatz gleich lang sind, ist der Nachsatz in B.3 doppelt so lang wie der Vordersatz. Diese Unausgewogenheit, die allen anderen Phrasen entgegensteht, stellt eine andere Art musikalischer Verstärkung der Versrhythmik dar.

Textlich und musikalisch findet das Stück im Abschnitt B.3 seinen Abschluss. Um aber das Gefühl zu vermitteln, das der Schlusspunkt erreicht wurde, müssen sich all Spannungen, die im Laufe eines Stückes entwickelt wurden, ihre Auflösung finden. Die Auflösung wird von den Hörern eindringlicher wahrgenommen, wenn sie nicht unvermittelt auftritt, sondern hinausgezögert wird. Das ist genau, was die Verlängerung des letzten Abschnittes zu erreichen versucht.

Die unregelmäßige Verslänge im Abschnitt B.3 hätte leicht „normalisiert“ werden können, indem auf die beiden inneren Verse verzichtet worden wäre:


Ahora que sé que no vendrás
vago sin fin por la recova.

Busco valor para partir,
para alejarme,
y así matando mi obsesión
lejos de ti poder morir.


Das Ergebnis wäre eine regelmäßige Struktur der Verse mit zwei Zweizeilern und einem Silbenmaß (8, 9; 8, 8 , das den andere Versen entsprechen würde. Die Verse wären allerdings ziemlich trocken und ausdruckslos. Die Einfügung der zusätzlichen Verse, die den Rhythmus durch die Wiederholung des Wortes „para“ noch einmal verdichten, bekräftigen die Empfindung eines Abschlusses zu den letzten zwei Worten, „poder morir“, und bringen den Text zu einem dramatischen Abschluss.

Musikalisch gesehen bereitet der Nachsatz in B.3 die Schlusskadenz des Stückes vor. Es ist eine Eigenschaft von Kadenzen, dass sie den harmonischen Rhythmus (d.h., die Zeitspanne zwischen den Harmoniewechseln) verlangsamen. Durch diese Verzögerung wird die Erwartung der harmonischen Auflösung erhöht, und wenn diese eintrifft (d.h., wenn der Schlussakkord erklingt), entsteht die Empfindung eines Abschlusses. Man kann daher sagen, das eine musikalische Kadenz mit ihrer Verlangsamung des harmonischen Rhythmus einer Erweiterung der Versstruktur, so wie sie oben beschrieben wurde, entspricht. Kadenzen sind gewöhnliche musikalische Vorgänge, und tatsächlich ist die Schlusskadenz von Amarras sehr konventionell. Trotzdem ist es faszinierend, wie Poesie und Musik im letzten Abschnitt zusammenfinden und einen dramatischen Abschluss hervorbringen.

Den aufmerksamen Lesern oder Zuhörern wird es aufgefallen sein, dass die zweite Strophe (B) in D'Arienzos Aufnahme im ganzen dreimal gespielt wird. In Hinsicht auf die ausführliche Vorbereitung der Schlusskadenz muss man sich fragen: Verschleißt sich der Effekt der Auflösung und des Abschlusses nicht mit jeder Wiederholung? Zu Beginn spielt das Orchester Teil B allein, und man wird beim ersten Mal, da man noch nicht das ganze Stück gehört hat, keine Schlusskadenz erwarten. Dann singt der Sänger beide Strophen (A und B), und das Stück könnte nachvollziehbar zu einem Ende kommen. Aber hier macht das Orchester deutlich, dass es noch weiter geht. Die Worte „poder morir“, zu denen die harmonische Auflösung der Schlusskadenz erfolgt, werden von Mauré mit einer absteigenden Quinte vom a' zum Grundton d' in einem wunderschönen piano gesungen. Die Worte sind leise intoniert, wie ein stiller Gedanke, was darauf schließen läßt, dass die Seelenqual des Akteurs noch kein Ende gefunden hat.

Die Wiederholung des letzten Abschnitts von Mauré am Ende der Aufnahme hinterlassen einen ganz anderen Eindruck. Hier singt Mauré die Worte in einem starken forte und—wie in einer Opernarie—steigt die Melodie eine Quarte vom a' zum Grundton d“ auf. Allein die Intensität des Klanges, die durch ein mit Nachdruck spielendes Orchester noch unterstützt wird, vermittelt jedem Zuhörer oder Tänzer, dass das Stück nun wirklich sein Finale erreicht hat.

3. Die Poesie des Tanzens


Als Schlusswort möchten wir diesem Artikel eine getanzte Interpretation von D'Arienzos Amarras-Aufnahme anfügen. Von den vielen Versionen, die in Youtube erhältlich sind, haben wir uns für die Darbietung von Silvana Anfossi und Alejandro Hermida entschlossen. Mehr als jede andere ist sie uns nicht als raffiniertes Bravourstück aufgefallen, sondern als eine Choreografie, die sich aus der Musik ergibt. Die formalen Aspekte von Amarras, die wir in diesem Artikel aufgezeigt haben, klingen auch in den Tanzschritten von Anfossi und Hermida nach. (Um die Choreografie mit der musikalischen Form in Verbindung zu bringen, haben wir die Kennzeichen der Abschnitte im Video eingeblendet.)

Auffallend an der Choreografie ist, dass sie der musikalischen Phrasierung folgt. Das ist sogar bemerkbar, wenn man der Routine ohne Musik (ohne Ton) zuschaut. Die Übergänge zwischen den Strophen (A und B) und Abschnitten (A.1, A.2 usw.) zeigen das besonders deutlich. In Text und Musik sind Übergänge durch einen Einschnitt gekennzeichnet, der, je nach formalem Stellenwert, stärker oder schwächer ist. In der Choreografie ist es nicht anders. Wenn sich die Musik einer Kadenz am Ende einer Strophe nähert, wird die Choreografie lebhafter und baut mehr Tanzfiguren ein. Mit der Auflösung in der Kadenz findet auch die Figurenfolge ihren Abschluss. Die Tänzer sammeln sich, suchen die Haltung, und fahren dann mit dem nächsten Schrittfolge fort.

Zwei Aspekte der Choreografie und ihrer Ausführunf sind unserer Meinung nach besonders bemerkenswert. Der erste ist die Ruhe und Mühelosigkeit—man möchte sagen Abgeklärtheit—der Tänzer, die sich durch die ganze Aufführung zieht. Nichts geschieht übereilt oder außerhalb des Taktes der Musik. Der zweite Aspekt ist der „unbühnenhafte“ Charakter der Choreografie. Anders als viele andere Tango-Präsentationen, die sich am Bühnentanz orientieren, basiert die von Anfossi und Hermida auf der caminada. Die Tänzer bewegen sich durchgehend in eine Richtung (vorwärts) und bleiben in der Regel „in der Linie“. Anhängern eines mehr bühnenmäßigen Stils mag diese Darbietung vielleicht zu traditionell sein. Wir sehen in ihr allerdings eine Art des Aufführungstanzes, die dem Ideal eines Gesellschaftstanzes am nächsten kommt und der es gelingt, Musik und Tanz miteinander zu verschmelzen.














Sunday, February 24, 2019

"Amarras" Distangled


An article jointly authored by Daniela Pastina and El Victrolero.




There are many popular images associated with tango. The one universally recognized is that of dance music. However, while tango from its beginnings had been associated with dance, it was never conceived exclusively as dance music but was composed and performed as music to be listened to. Another popular image is that of tango being a music of misery and sorrow. This notion is not a consequence of tango being dance music but originated from the texts of tango songs. It is one of the idiosyncrasies of tango that an enjoyable pastime—social dancing—is celebrated to texts memorializing affairs of the most disagreeable kind: lost love, disappointment, deception, alcoholism and even death.

It is, of course, not the subject matter of misery that has delighted the audience of tango but rather the quality of its poetry. Tango was fortunate to spark the interest of some excellent poets that have raised the expressiveness of song texts far above the commonplaces of most popular music, among them being Hómero Manzi, Enrique Cadícamo and Enrique Santos Discepolo, to mention just the most famous ones. The name of Carmelo Santiago will not be familiar to many tango aficionados; he is better known, in fact, as a director and producer of films. Nevertheless, he wrote some delightful tango texts. Amarras will be the most familiar one among tango dancers due to its magnificent recording by Héctor Mauré with the orchestra of Juan D'Arienzo. But there also others: La melodía de nuestro adiós (music by Fioravanti Di Cicco, recorded by Francisco Canaro), Cuando el corazón (music and recorded by Francisco Canaro; sung by Roberto Maida, it also appeared in the movie Dos amigos y un amor), and La melodía del corazón (music, after Chopin, by Fioravanti Di Cicco and Héctor María Artola and recorded by Edgar Donato).

1. The Poetry of Torment


The lyrics of Amarras provide a poignant example of a classical tango song for themes, images and psychological truth. The picture drawn by the poem transports the listener to one tango's mythical places of origin, the harbor. The image of a moored and disused coal boat, to which the protagonist of the poem compares himself, brilliantly invokes the classic tango motif of lost love. Tied to his past and having lost his beloved, the protagonist feels bereft of any reason for existence. Similar to Roman ruins in a Romantic painting, the coal boat moored to shore becomes a modernist symbol of a past activity, a relic with no prospect of further use other than being a reminder of the ephemeral quality of human achievement.

Example 1: Amarras

As it occurred frequently with tango songs, the music appears to have been composed before the text. Indications for this circumstance can be found in the formal structure of the strophes and stanzas. Corresponding to the music, the text is divided into two strophes (indicated as A and B, respectively, in the left column of the example above). The strophes are, in turn, divided into three stanzas (numbered 1 to 3 in the left column of the example above), each of which contains two couplets or tercets. (The partition of verses into couplets or tercets is based on the rhyme scheme, which is highlighted in boldface characters.)

It is said that the first person singular, masculine, is the most common grammatical structure in tango poetry. No other poemcould demonstrate this point more clearly than Amarras. The contents of the first strophe (A.1-3) deals exclusively with the protagonist and describes his state of mind. Practically every stanza of the first strophe begins with a verb in the first person singular: “vago” (I wander), “soy” (I am), “siento” (I feel), and “lloro” (I cry). Moreover, these verbs are accentuated: they fall, in musical terms, on a downbeat (see the discussion of the music below). The prominent position of these action verbs in the first person singular calls attention to the emotional state of the protagonist and show him in a state of despair.
Only the first couplet of second stanza (A.2) diverges somewhat from the word pattern, inasmuch as the first line begins with a personal pronoun, which is—it comes as no surprise—“yo” (I). It is precisely in this couplet where the connection between the coal boat and the protagonist is unequivocally articulated. On the one hand, the initial words of each verse (underscored in the following example) establish the link between boat and protagonist. On the other hand, by changing the rhythm of the verses through an internal rhyme on the words “atado” (tied up), “pasado” (past), and “anclado” (anchored), the analogy between protagonist's inability to leave his past behind and the boat anchored at shore is vividly elucidated.

Example 2: Amarras, A.2, first couplet
In the following couplet, the poet changes the sound quality of words in order to evoke the feeling of being held back. Whereas the first couplet contains words with many open vowels (the internal rhyme is an obvious example), the a-sounds in the second couplet become shorter by being followed by r consonants (indicated in boldface in the following example). As if to make the pain felt through hook and line audible, harsher sounding words were chosen for this couplet. Moreover, the repetition of  the word pattern “como garfios, como garras” intensifies the emotion of despair expressed by the protagonist.

Example 3: Amarras, A. 2, second couplet

The second strophe (B.1-3) turns away from the protagonist and directs the attention to his love lost. This change of focus is also reflected in the rhythmic structure of the verses. In the preceding strophe, the rhythmic stress fell on the first word of each couplet or tercet. Here in the second strophe, the verses start with unaccented syllables, and the rhythmic stress is laid on the end of the verse. 

Example 4: Amarras, rhythmic stresses

The effect of this shift of stress is that of a rhythmic drive forward which finds its resolution at the end of the verse. Yet, the poet extended this drive to the end of the couplet or tercet, respectively, by introducing internal rhymes. In the first stanza of the second strophe (B.1), the decisive resolution of the rhythmic drive falls only onto the last word of the couplets. The thus accented words form, in turn, the rhyme of the stanza.

Example 5: Amarras, B.1

As in the first strophe, the second stanza (B.2) forms a contrast to the ones surrounding it. Here again the protagonist calls attention to his misfortune. In the first tercet, in particular, the poet intensified the rhythmic tension by squeezing more internal rhymes in the verses.

Example 6: Amarras, B.2

The subject matter of Amarrasis typical for many tango poems. The comparison between the unhappy lover and a coal boat had been used to great success already in Enrique Cadícamo's Nieblas del Riachuelo, where we find indeed some of the same words (“amarrado”, “alejarse”, "recalada", etc.). One may criticize Amarras for its overindulgence in self-pity, misery, and death wish as an exaggeration but one must also recognize that this is part of a tradition. To be sure, Amarras is genre poetry, that is, it draws on themes and a vocabulary that appear in tango texts time and again. Yet, it is also the work of a poet with a sense for drama. The text has a plot that takes the listener from the description of the protagonist's state of mind in the first strophe to his realization of the hopelessness of his situation in the second one. This is not unlike an aria of a 19th-century opera that tango poets and musicians, being children of Italian and Spanish immigrants, undoubtedly grew up with hearing. Vincenzo Bellini's dictum that “opera must make one weep, shudder, die, through singing” seems to resonate in many a tango poem.

2. The Poetry of Music


Our preceding discussion of the poetic form and content of Amarras went into considerable detail in order to assert our opinion that the poem has artistic value on its own—even without the music and its beautiful recording by Héctor Mauré and Juan D'Arienzo. Unfortunately, we cannot make a similarly detailed presentation of the music. We have not been able to locate a music score of the tango (let alone one of D'Arienzo's arrangement), or find any significant information about the composer, Carlos Marchisio. We are, therefore, entirely dependent on the audio recordings.

Amarrasis a typical tango canción, that is, it was composed not as a dance piece, but as a tango to be listened to. In a tango canción, the focus of attention is on the singer and the interpretation of the text, whereas the orchestra only provides the accompaniment. However, when dance orchestras performed a tango canción, the focus shifted from the interpretation of the text to the music. The singer of a dance music version never sang the entire text of the poem, only parts thereof. The orchestra was no longer just the accompanist of the singer, but it played significant portions of the piece on its own. Hence, the music arranger was free to reshuffle the order of music sections without destroying the coherence of the text. The artistic interest of dance orchestra versions lies in the musical arrangement of the score. A systematic study of these arrangements would indeed be highly interesting, if such scores still were to be found, but unfortunately this kind of investigation has been grossly neglected in Argentina.

Typical for a tango canción, the music of Amarras consists of two parts. Corresponding to the two strophes of the poem discussed above, they are here also identified as A and B. In a tango-canción-style performance, the orchestra would play a short introduction; then all strophes of the piece were sung with repetitions in text order. (For a tango-canción-style performance of Amarras see Héctor Mauré's recording with the orchestra of Héctor Varela. In this version the text is sung in its entirety, and the orchestra adapts to the singer's interpretation, disregarding, for example, the need to keep a steady rhythm, which is a priority in dance music.) 

For dance orchestras it was not essential to play the piece in text order. Musical sections could be rearranged freely, but it was not mandatory to do so. Alberto Castillo's recording of Amarras, for example, consists of sections A and B played twice in order: the first time it is performed by the orchestra instrumentally, the second time it is sung by Castillo. The resulting repetition scheme is ABAB (the sung portions are given in boldface).

The recording by Juan D'Arienzo, on the other hand, begins with an instrumental version of B, which is followed by parts A and B being sung and, as the conclusion, by another instrumental repetition of part B. In this last repetition, the singer joins in again and sings the last stanza (B.3) with the same text as before. D'Arienzo's repetition scheme, therefore, is BAB+[B.1B.2B.3] (the sung portions are given in boldface).

The musical structure of Amarras corresponds to that of the poetry. Just as each strophe contains three stanzas, so the corresponding musical parts contain three sections each. The sections, in turn, are divided into two phrases, antecedent and consequent. With only three exceptions, all phrases are four measures long, which gives most sections a length of 8 measures.

Example 7 : The musical structure of Amarras

As the preceding table indicates, the second stanza of the first strophe, A.2, consists of two phrases of 3 measures, thus resulting in a shorter section of 6 measures. This stanza was mentioned above for establishing the image of a coal boat moored to shore, which the poet emphasized by intensifying the rhythm of the verses through internal rhymes. Thus, the musical setting, presenting two contracted musical phrases, turns out to be an imaginative complement, or better, a musical amplification of the poetic rhythm of this stanza.

The last stanza, B.3, is longest one of the piece. Unlike the “condensed” stanza A.2, in which both the antecedent and consequent phrases correspond in length, the consequent phrase of B.3 is twice as long as the antecedent one. This imbalance, which breaks with the model of homologous musical phrases followed in all the preceding stanzas, provides an intensification of expression of another kind.
It is this stanza that brings the piece textually and musically to a conclusion. Yet, in order to perceive a sense of finality at the end of a composition, all tension previously built up must be resolved. Such a resolution will impress the listener more emphatically if it does not occur suddenly but is deferred. This, it stands to argue, is what the extension of the last stanza is intended to bring about.

The irregular verse structure in the stanza B.3 could have been easily “normalized” if the two inner verses were dropped:

Example 8: Amarras, B.3

Ahora que sé que no vendrás
vago sin fin por la recova.

Busco valor para partir,
para alejarme,
y así matando mi obsesión
lejos de ti poder morir.


The result would have been a regular verse structure of two couplets and a syllable count (8, 9; 8, 8) more in line with the other stanzas. Yet, it would be a far less expressive. The insertion of two extra lines, rhythmically intensified through a repetition of the word “para”, strengthens the sensation of arrival and finality on the final two words, “poder morir” and turns the conclusion into a dramatic ending.

In musical terms, the consequent phrase of B.3 introduces the final cadence of the piece. It is the nature of a cadence to slow down the harmonic rhythm (that is, the rate of harmonic changes in the music). Through this deceleration, the expectation of the harmonic resolution is raised, and when the resolution actually takes place (that is, when the final chord eventually arrives), it conveys a sense of fulfillment and finality. One can say, therefore, that a musical cadence with its deceleration of harmonic change is analogous to extending a poetic structure as described above. Cadences are common musical practice and, in fact, this final cadence in Amarras is a very conventional affair. But it is fascinating, nevertheless, to see how poetry and music converged in Amarras to create a dramatic ending.
The attentive reader or listener will have noticed that the second strophe, B, is played three times in D'Arienzo's recording. In view of the careful preparation of the final cadence of part B, one must ask: Does the effect of “finality” not wear out with every repetition? At the beginning, part B is played by the orchestra alone and, having heard only half the piece, one would not expect it to end at this point. Then the singer sings both strophes, A and B, at which point the piece could logically end. However, the performance style makes it clear that the end of the piece has not been reached yet. At the harmonic resolution of the cadence to the words “poder morir”, Mauré sings the passage in a beautiful piano voice, descending from a' to the final note of the key, d'. The words are uttered quietly, like a private thought, giving the impression the mental anguish of the protagonist has not come to a conclusion.

By contrast, when Mauré repeats this passage at the end of the piece, he sings it in a strong forte and, like an operatic singer, ascends to the key note d'' an octave higher. This sound intensity alone, which is strengthened by a forcefully playing orchestra, will indicate to every listener and dancer, that the piece is finally coming to an end.

3. The Poetry of Dancing


As a conclusion to this article, we would like to include a danced interpretation of D'Arienzo's Amarras. Among the many performances that are available on Youtube, we have chosen a presentation by Silvana Anfossi and Alejandro Hermida. More than any other one, it has struck us not as a showcase of bravura but as a performance faithful to the music. That is to say, the formal aspects of Amarras noted in the preceding article find an echo in Anfossi's and Hermida's dance choreography. (In order to relate the choreography to the musical form, we have overlaid the video with the identifiers of the musical structure.)

By watching the video, even without the audio track, one can see that the choreography follows the musical phrasing of the piece. Most noticeable in this respect are the transitions between sections, that is, the strophes (A and B) and stanzas (A.1, A.2, etc). In poetry and music, the transition from one section to the next is marked by a caesura—stronger or weaker depending on its formal significance. This can be noticed in the dance performance as well. Unlike more showy choreographies, this one is based on the caminada. The choreography gets livelier and involves more dance figures when the cadences of the larger musical parts are imminent. With the cadence, a sequence of movements comes to a close and finds its resolution. The dancers collect their posture, and then continue to the next section.

Two aspects are, in our opinion, especially remarkable. One is the sense of calm and effortlessness, even serenity, of the dancers. Nothing appears rushed or out of step with the music. The other is the “unstagy” quality of the choreography. These two elements conspire in giving the performance an appearance of simplicity. While this aspect may diminish the performance in the eyes of those spectators who are fascinated by the tango escenario or similar styles, it makes it examplary of traditional tango dancing. It seems to us that this kind of show dance is as close as it gets to the ideal of social dancing. The dancers always keep a steady forward motion and stay most of the time “in the line”. 

Rather than to venture into a detailed analysis of the choreography, however, we invite our readers to watch the superb performance of Silvana Anfossi and Alejandro Hermida, to do their own analysis of their choreography, and to compare it to other performances, if they like. For us, their dance is an extraordinary showcase of sensitivity to the music that discreetly weds dance and musical structure.

Or, one may simply enjoy watching an example of classic Argentine tango dancing to a celebrated performance of an extraordinary tango song.



Example 9: Amarras, danced by Silvana Anfossi and Alejandro Hermida







Sunday, February 3, 2019

From Habanera to Tango, Part 4



When Argentine tango came to be recognized as a distinct, indigenous music style in the region of the River Plate, around the turn of the 20th century, “theories” of its history were formulated as well. These were rarely conclusions of objective investigations but rather comments in journalistic essays or opinions that, cited repeatedly, became accepted as common knowledge.

Milonga and tango showed both an indisputable influence of the habanera, as both featured the habanera rhythm as an accompaniment figure. The habanera, it was therefore claimed, was introduced through Cuban sailors to Buenos Aires where it was taken up by local musicians and danced in seedy harbor taverns. It then blended with the milonga and eventually evolved into tango. This speculative assumption was repeated so many times that it has currency even today. Yet, it is not based on historical evidence but rather on the popular image of Argentine tango from which its ancestry was inferred.

From its beginnings, Argentine tango was considered to be the music of the lower class population and thus ancestors of corresponding social status were assigned to it. The milonga was a music style from the Argentinian countryside were it was performed by the payadores (itinerant singers accompanying themselves on the guitar). The habanera, being introduced by “common” sailors from Cuba into the lower class neighborhoods of the harbor district, also acquired the reputation of being a country dance due to its relationship to the milonga.

Illustration to a short story, “Los bailes de mi pago”, representing the dance of a habanera.
Published in Caras y Caretas, 1899

Even though the presence of the habanera rhythm in milonga and tango may suggest a descendance as outlined above, it is difficult to maintain in the face of demonstrable historic evidence. For one, it is highly unlikely that a significant number of Cuban sailors visited Buenos Aires (let alone sailors musically so accomplished to make a lasting impression on local musicians) since Cuba did not possess a merchant fleet. Furthermore, this narrative completely ignores the musical life as it unfolded in Buenos Aires during the given time period.

1. Dance Music in Buenos Aires 1861-1898


Reliable data on what music people actually played, danced, and listened to in the 19th century is difficult to come by—even more so in Argentina due to the sparsity of significant research. An inventory of compositions by Argentinian composers that were mentioned as newly published in newspapers between 1861-1898 provides at least some information, incomplete as it may be. Most of the newly composed pieces were dance music. If one can judge from the number of publications, the five most popular dances were waltzes (168), polkas (137), mazurkas (113), habaneras (64), and schottische (32). These dances were also—it should come as no surprise—the ones most often composed (and danced) in Europe.

Dance assignations of musical compositions are often dubious. The dance indicated in a title may just refer to the style of the composition (a piano piece “in the style”of a waltz) rather than actually being intended for social dancing. It is almost compelling to ask this question with many of the habanera-like pieces. They simply seem too short to make it worthwhile stepping on the dance floor. There is evidence, however, that the habanera was indeed a popular social dance, and it comes from Buenos Aires.

The highpoint of the dancing season, in Argentina as well as in Europe, were the dances organized during carnival. In 1877, the Buenos Aires Opera, the most prestigious theater of the city, hosted its first public carnival dances at the opera house. The announcement published in local newspaper reads as follows:


Opera
THE RENOWNED DANCES OF THE OPERA SOCIETY
Upon request by countless members of the elegant youth
Grand Ballroom, Fantasy, and Individual Dances
will be given during the nights of Saturday, January 20 and Sunday, January 21.
GREAT NOVELTY
The theater is converted into a grand hall, the proscenium having been enlarged to more than 200 square cubits and given the most adequate ventilation. All the decorations and embellishments of the grand hall are newly painted for the purpose. There will be a large, luxuriously decorated grandstand at the center of the theater that will hold a large orchestra of the best music professors. They will play the most modern dances of renowned French, German, Italian, and Spanish composers—Strauss, Gungel, Labitzky, Riege, Offenbach, Lecoq, Hervé, Littolff, Capitani, Levi, Iradier, etc.
The dances will last 10 minutes, each with a 5 minute intermission. They will be played in the following order: 1st polka, 2nd habanera, 3rd quadrille (French), 4th waltz, 5th mazurka, 6th schottische, 7th quadrille (French).
Ladies will enter GRATIS with an invitation ticket of the dance commission.







Publicity announcement of the carnival dances at the opera in Buenos Aires, 1877


The program of dances were listed in advance. They include the standard repertory of ball dances that one would have encountered in Europe as well. Typically for the 19th century, the quadrilles were the high points of the evening since they required the cooperation of the entire dancing audience.

The composers of the music listed were all Europeans and well-known for their dance music. Sebastián Iradier, the most representative composer of the habanera is included in the list. We noted in the first article of this series that his habaneras were predominantly vocal compositions, and many of them were also quite short. As the program indicates, however, each dance was scheduled to last 10 minutes. The orchestra, hence, must have played an arrangement of a number of habaneras. (Waltzes written for dancing typically contain 4 or more parts—each one a “complete” dance in itself—to be played through and repeated, and thus easily reach a performance time of 10 or more minutes.)

The announcement shows two things very clearly: habanera music originating from Spain was appreciated in Buenos Aires. The fact that Iradier is mentioned by name on the program advertisement suggests also that his music was considered among the best available. Furthermore, the habanera was indeed a social dance and had its devotees in the best circles of society.

Tango, however, does not appear on the program. It was to take another 25 years before tango as a dance became a standard fixture during the carnival festivities. Tango also appears only minimally in the inventory of pieces published by Argentinian composers discussed above. Within the years from 1862 to 1891, only ten entries refer to tangos. For most of these, the music appears to have been lost. Four refer to songs performed by “black” carnival societies (sociedad de negros), which were organizations of white people who organized floats and performed songs in which the presented themselves as negros. Two tangos in the inventory are piano editions of pieces from Spanish zarzuelas. One of them deserves special attention, as we will show in the following section.

2. El Tango de la Menegilda


In 1889, the Argentine composer Francisco Hargreaves published a piano edition of El Tango de la Menegilda from the revue La Gran Vía by the Spanish composers Federico Chueca and Joaquín Valverde. The revue had premiered in Madrid in 1886 and was first shown in Buenos Aires three years later. That Hargreaves promptly sat down and worked out a piano edition of Chueca's and Valverde's work is noteworthy by itself, inasmuch as he was himself a noted composer of operas. The profits expected from a piano edition of the revue's most popular song must have been exceptional. And indeed, La Gran Vía was no ordinary work. It was a huge international success that was presented in Paris, London, New York, and many other metropolitan cities. Its spectacular success in Buenos Aires was remembered even 20 years after its first showing. 

El Tango de la Menegilda (“The Tango of the Maidservant”) is actually sung twice in the revue: first by the maidservant and later by the landlady, doña Virtudes (“Lady Virtuous”). The maidservant tells her story: when she came to Madrid, she learned to scrub, sweep, cook, iron, and sew when told, but seeing that this would not get her anywhere she decided to learn to pilfer and shortchange her employers. She became very skilled in it and eventually became the maid of a senile old man and now she is the landlady of the house. Doña Virtudes sings, in contrast, about the problems she faced dealing with steeling, lazy, and insolent maidservants.

Musically, El Tango de la Menegilda strongly resembles the tangos written for stage performances discussed in the previous article of this series. It has all the marks of a habanera-like composition: the habanera rhythm as an accompaniment figure, cross-rhythms in the melody, and a two-part division with contrasting parallel keys, e minor and E major in this case.

What makes El Tango de la Menegilda important for the development of Argentine tango is the cast of characters of the song and revue, as well as the influence La Gran Vía had on the theater in Buenos Aires. Habaneras and tangos, as we have seen, represented something exotic that involved the black population of Cuba. On the theater stage, these blacks belonged to the realm of servants, that is, to roles that traditionally provided relief (often comic) to the main characters of a play. The novelty of La Gran Vía was to give “lower-class” characters—common people one could meet every day on the street, on Madrid's Gran Vía—the main roles of the play and to present them in a sympathetic light. El Tango de la Menegilda showcases a maidservant, a person of questionable character with no means to get ahead other than by stealing from those who have, her better-off employers. Doña Virtudes, the maid's employer, provides the “upper-class” contrast, a finicky landlady, but she only arouses sympathy for the pilfering maids in her employ. Thus, the traditionally “lower-class” roles (which includes maids, petty thieves, soldiers, bonvivants, etc.) have become the main characters in La Gran Vía. And this cast of characters was to become the one that figures prominently in the texts of Argentine tango.

La Gran Vía was a huge international success, one which was immediately imitated. Within a year after its premiere in Buenos Aires an Argentine copy, De Paseo por Buenos Aires appeared on the stage. It was an adaption that contained many of the characters of the model but took place, as the title indicates, in Buenos Aires. Other revues of the kind were to follow. Showcasing lower-class characters was also adopted by playwrights of the Argentine theater emerging in the 1890s . (Before this decade, the theater of Buenos Aires was dominated by foreign theater companies.) Sainetes, short plays with plots playing in Buenos Aires or the Argentinian countryside, were soon to compete with serious theatrical works. A favored location of urban plots was the conventillo, the tenement housing of the lower classes and immigrants, and tango was stylized as the music and dance of its inhabitants.

Cover of a piano score of La Gran Vía. The music in the revue is based on popular dances. They include a waltz, polka, schottische, and mazurka, thus, dances that were also played at the carnival dances at the Buenos Aires Opera.
(Recordings of El Tango de la Menegilda are available on YouTube.)


3. Justicia criolla


It did not take long for the association of the lower-class population of the conventillo and tango to become commonplace. A key work in this respect was Ezequiel Soria's zarzuela Justicia criolla which was staged with great success in 1897. Taking place in a conventillo, the plot includes a festivity at which the inhabitants dance a tango. Tango is not the only dance requested (they also ask for dances like waltz and quadrille that we know were popular from the list of carnival dances at the opera), but it is in this play referred to as an indigenous dance. Thus it has lost its association with Cuba.

First man A waltz.

Some No, no, tangos. 

Others Quadrilles! 

Benito Gentlemen, a bit of peace! They will all be danced. As good criollos, I suggest we open the session with a tango, and if the majority is in the affirmative, the guitarists may begin to strum the strings of their guitars.

All The tango, the tango! 

Benito How quickly have I arranged that! I have a good hand for majorities. (They play and dance the tango. ...)

Benito, the main character of the play, is a black porter at the House of Congress. As a side story to the plot, he is in love with Juana, whom he had met dancing a schottische. While there has always been a relationship between tango and dancing, in Justicia criolla a more precise connection to a specific way of dancing is established. Argentine tango was danced with corte y quebrada (with “cut” and “break”). Other dances, like the waltz, were danced “sin corte”. References to particular dance moves like the quebrada (“broken” or “fractured”) had appeared in the literature earlier in the century but were not specifically linked to a tango dance. Vague as these references are, they seem to describe a sort of dip by the woman that was considered scandalous since it “broke” the conventional upright body posture. The explicit association of tango, corte, and quebrada may have been made for the first time in Justicia criolla.

In a dialog with José, a Spanish immigrant and porter at the Courts, Benito describes his conquest of Juana at a carnival dance:
...
then, during a tango, hey, I went ahead
and conquered her with a pure corte.

Later in the play, Benito describes his embrace of Juana during a tango. It is danced in close position, the dancers are leaning against each other, and it includes a quebrada.

Guitarist And this Juanita, how is she? 

Benito Like this, hey! (he closes his fist) The finest!... When I am dancing a tango with her (he acts a pantomime of the dance) , 
I plant her firmly against the hip and I let myself go
to the rhythm of the music. And I sink into her
black eyes and she inclines her head against my chest,
and doing a turn comes a little quebrada... 
Oh, brother, it disappears … every ill-humor just disappears.

Guitarist I'd like to meet this Juana. 

The image of tango established in Justicia criolla differs distinctly from those in Spanish zarzuelas. Here it is only incidental (though perhaps not insignificant) that Benito is black. Tango has become the dance of the conventillo, that is, the lower classes of Argentinian society. 

In the first staging of Justicia criolla, Benito was played by a Spanish actor, Enrique Gil, one of the most celebrated stage artists in Buenos Aires. The guitarist was played by the then twenty-one-year-old Arturo de Nava, who frequently appeared on stage as a tango dancer and went on to become a well-known singer (payador) of Argentine and Uruguayan folk music.

Arturo de Nava (dark jacket) as a tango dancer

4. The Inception of Argentine Tango


The beginnings of Argentine tango coincide with the beginnings of the national Argentine theater. The first compositions that can be identified unequivocally as tangos were published around the turn of the 20th century. They stem from a small group of composers born before 1880. The senior (and perhaps most important) members of this group, Ángel Villoldo (1861-1919) and Cayetano Rosendo Mendizábal (1868-1913), composed the oldest tangosthat are still played as dance musictoday. Two other members of this group, Alfredo Eusebio Gobbi (1877-1938) and Enrique Saborido (1878-1941) (the former singing and performing on stage with his wife Flora Rodríguez, the latter also being a dance teacher), were instrumental in introducing Argentine tango as music and dance to Paris.

The work and the artistic development of these musicians (and, as a matter of fact, of all Argentinian and Uruguayan tango composers) has been very poorly documented and it is at this point impossible to establish a chronology of their compositions. It is clear, however, that when the first pieces by these composers appeared in print, they evinced characteristics that differed decisively from the older habanera-like tangos.

There are two significant differences: First, most early Argentinian tangos were conceived as instrumental music which resulted in a different musical form. Whereas the predominantly vocal habanera-like pieces were composed as two-part pieces (AB) that reflected the verse/refrain structure of the text, instrumental Argentine tangos used a three-part rondo form (ABC). Compositions with three sections of 16 measures each (subdivided into two phrases of equal length) became the standard format for instrumental tangos.

Second, cross-rhythms created through the habanera rhythms and triplets in the melody disappeared. Instead, the síncopa became the dominant and conspicuous rhythmical figure of Argentine tango. In some pieces this rhythm is so dominant that they seem to be composed “around” the síncopa. Furthermore, as a result of being performed by instruments rather than singers, the music took on a stronger rhythmical character, with shorter, sometimes strongly accentuated motives and dynamic contrasts that leave an impression of mischievous exaggeration.

To be sure, the influence of the habanera continued to be discernible for some time. The habanera rhythm was yet the prevailing rhythmic figure in the bass accompaniment. Little ornamentations in the melody echoed the upper mordents that abounded in zarzuela tangos. Contrasts in parallel major and minor keys used to set off different sections of a piece remained a common device throughout the tango literature.

In a previous series of articles, we have analyzed in detail a few early instrumental tangos from the period under consideration. We shall therefore refrain from repeating the process here and refer the reader to two compositions, Ángel Villoldo's El Porteñito and Arturo De Bassi's El Incendio that can be called exemplary in many ways.



Ángel Villoldo: El Porteñito, Quinteto Pirincho 



Arturo De Bassi: El Incendio, Roberto Firpo


Judging from the sources available and accessible today, it surprises that Argentine tango emerged suddenly within a short period of time and that it was already well-defined at its appearance, showing few signs of development. Apart from influences of the habanera and zarzuela, the basic form and characteristics of Argentine tango appear to have been understood and shared by composers from the outset.

One explanation for this circumstance is that the fundamental musical form of Argentine tango was not new at all. The three-part rondo form (ABC) is one of the most common patterns in Western music, in particular, in dance and dance-like genres. The sudden appearance of a distinct Argentine tango, whose composers resort to the same musical forms and tonal language, is an indication that this music was cultivated by a group of professional musicians who had been educated in the tradition of Western music. Thus, what was new about Argentine tango was not the musical form but the musical style. This new style manifested itself in rhythmic and melodic qualities (thesíncopa, for instance) and, as the music style developed, in the formation of specialized ensembles (the orquesta típica) and a particular performance style.


5. La Morocha


“For me, the origin of tango is the habanera. In its first era, it had the rhythm of the habanera. Now it has changed, but that was its origin. One will realize this by taking a look at La Morocha.”
Arturo De Bassi, 1937

Enrique Saborido's La Morocha (1905) is one of the best known early tangos. It has an emblematic status of early tangos due to its almost mandatory appearance in Argentine films with plots playing at the turn of the 20th century. Saborido's fame was not only limited to his compositions. Besides being a pianist, he was a renowned tango dancer and for some time maintained a dance school in Buenos Aires. In 1911, he was invited to Paris where he taught tango until the outbreak of WWI.

Saborido revealed the genesis of La Morocha in a 1928 interview. As the story goes, he was very fond of a beautiful brunette (morocha) dancer, Lola Candales. His friends challenged him one night to write a tango that she could perform successfully. After returning home in the early morning hours, Saborido sat down at the piano and composed the tango within 1-1/2 hours. Then he went to see Ángel Villoldo and asked him to write a text for the song. Within a few hours, the piece was ready to be rehearsed, and Lola Candales performed it the following night to the great applause of Saborido's friends.

La Morocha is labelled a tango criollo. Thus it is classified as an Argentine tango. It is a simple composition consisting of two sections to 16 measures, plus an introduction and a coda of 4 measures each. The first part, the introduction and coda are written in d minor, whereas the second section stands in D major.

The habanera rhythm predominates as an accompaniment figure throughout the entire piece. The melody is quite simple. In the first part, it consists of almost only one motif that is repeatedly altered depending on the harmonic context.


La Morocha, section A, antecedent phrase. Red brackets indicate the basic melodic motif.

The same holds true for the second part, which also shows one repeating motif that is altered depending on the harmonic context. Interestingly, this motif consists of triplets and creates cross-rhythms against the habanera-rhythm in the accompaniment.

La Morocha, section B, antecedent phrase. Red brackets indicate the basic melodic motif that creates cross-rhythms.




The musical structure of Saborido's tango criollo appears to contradict all the formal elements of Argentine tango listed above. Rather than a tango, La Morocha shows all the marks of a habanera: the habanera rhythm in the accompaniment, cross-rhythms in the melody, a two-part formal division, and tonal differentiation of the two parts through parallel major and minor keys.

The analyst is presented with a dilemma: the author referred to the piece as a tango, but the musical evidence suggests that it is a habanera. Has one of the emblematic Argentine tangos, La Morocha, been modeled after a Spanish habanera like Iradier's La Paloma?

Composers are neither analysts nor librarians of their music, and it is safe to assume that the successful dissemination of their works was more important to them than a correct classification. The categorization of La Morocha as a tango can perhaps be seen as an indication of the rising popularity of tango and the decline of the habanera. All the same, a more critical look at Saborido's interview reveals points in the story which suggest that the circumstances under which La Morocha was written were not quite as portayed by the composer.

Saborido's suggestion that he wrote the piece for a dancer—not a singer—must seem odd but is not unthinkable. (Even Fred Astaire tried to establish himself as a singer at the beginning of his career.) More problematic is the type of text that Villoldo wrote for La Morocha: it takes place in the countryside and the persons appearing in it are “la morocha”, and the rural population of gauchos, pamperos, and an estate owner on horseback. This is not the cast of characters for a tango, but rather for a habanera which, as we have noted at the beginning of this article, was understood as a country dance.

The subject matter of texts that Villoldo wrote for his own tangos criollos are, by contrast, quite different. They all play in an urban setting and feature characters that one would expect in a conventillo rather than the pampa. Typically, the actors of the texts are also avid tango dancers. It is, therefore, difficult to understand why Villoldo would have placed the action into the pampa, if he had been asked to write a text for tango to be sung by a dancer in a bar in Buenos Aires.

In 1906, when La Morocha was printed, as well as in 1928, when Saborido gave his interview, tango enjoyed great popularity in Buenos Aires. The habanera, by contrast, had past its apogee. It was still danced in 1905 but could no longer generate the excitement that tango did. And in 1928, the habanera was a dance of the past. Musicians have always been pragmatic: the response of the audience is the yardstick by which success is measured. Whatever the reasons for the (misleading) categorization of La Morocha may be, the song as a habanera may never have reached the success and reputation it gained as a tango criollo.

Example 9: Libertad Lamarque performing La Morocha (1938). Note that the triplets that create cross-rhythms in the original score are played here as síncopas. This clearly audible in the orchestra interlude during the dance performance.



Libertad Lamarque performing La Morocha (1938). Note that the triplets that create cross-rhythms in the original score are played here as síncopas. This clearly audible in the orchestra interlude during the dance performance.

6. Conclusion


Historical assessments of Argentine tango have traditionally placed its descendance from the habanera into an undefined, distant past and the countryside removed from Buenos Aires. Our investigation has drawn a different picture: throughout the second half of the 19th century, the habanera was known and appreciated in the Argentinian capital, just as it was in Paris and Madrid. Contrary to its popular image as a country dance, it was a social dance performed in the best circles of society.

The theater stage played a crucial role in the development of Argentine tango. The social environment of tango corresponds to the one taking a central place in the sainetes of the emerging Argentine and Uruguayan theater. The lower-class inhabitants of the conventillo are prominent characters in these plays, and tango is presented as the typical dance of the conventilloThus, the image of tango shifted from being a dance of black people to the emblematic dance of the lower-class population of Buenos Aires and Montevideo.

The appearance of Argentine tango coincides with the growing popularity of sainetes. Argentine tango quickly showed its own stylistic traits, but there existed no conflict of genre between the new “native” tango and old “imported” habanera. Saborido's La Morocha became a very successful tango criollo in spite of its stylistic dependency on the „archaic“ habanera.



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