oblivion in mid-atlantic

 

Book cover (see links)

320 miles due west from Morocco, ten years ago. A chance sighting of an advertising flyer in a hidden corner of Funchal prompted me to enquire at the hotel desk about an upcoming concert at the University of Madeira. After more than a few enquiries about its location, one of the host of yellow taxis took us up to the precipitous perimeter of the city to find a theatre foyer bar buzzing with anticipation. In a variety of languages it soon became evident that what most of us in the audience had in common was the name Astor Piazzolla.

A few years earlier, much further across the ocean, Linda had enjoyed Welsh Cream Teas in Yr Wladfa (the Cymreig settlement est. 1865) in Patagonia. Stopping over in Buenos Aires, 800 miles to the north, she heard performances of Piazzolla’s Tango Nuevo, and picked up a souvenir CD to bring home for me. She may rue the day, but it started a new stream of interest overnight. In the 1970s this "new tango" had come strictly for listening to, rather than for dancing. It transcended musical genres. Traditional tangos repeat germinal phrases with a meditative effect, and often finish on a chord leading to, well, nowhere. As if encouraging the listener to imagine what happens next somewhere in the ether. As an art form, tango is sometimes seen as the musical equivalent of Haiku.

The concert programme from Orquestra Clássica da Madeira included one of Piazzolla’s best known pieces, "Libertango" (1974). It symbolised liberation from tradition; salon, ballroom and bordello tango spawning sub-genres such as electrotango, narcotango, Finnish tango and others. There are many, many versions of it. Adaptations are used in advertising, songs, films and television, and it seems to be a favourite of this orchestra, several of their performances being available to watch online.

I travel much less frequently now, post-pandemic, by choice. My apologies to the hospitality industry, but I can revisit this concert and many others online. Watching the same orchestra on video, recorded during the 2020 lockdown, emphasised the sense of dislocation, as their faces are hidden. Grace Jones’ take on Libertango, “I’ve seen that face before”, comes to mind, as I imagine her singing instead “I can’t see that face at all”. It would have been an ironic performance indeed.

Another Piazzolla piece, "Oblivion", already achingly sad, has an added poignancy in watching the orchestra play while again wearing facemasks. But if I had been there in a local bar in person after one of their concerts, the songs of Fado would have fittingly complemented the emotion, even without understanding the words. Whether in Portuguese, Spanish, or any language, If you talk during a Fado performance, you may be politely shown the door. And in Tango, Saudade, Hiraeth, Wabi Sabi, Heimweh, Sehnsucht, Wistfulness, Cianalas and Nostalgia all meet.

LINKS

Home | tangozen

Astor Piazzolla – Libertango – Sofia Philharmonic

Astor Piazzolla - Libertango | Orquestra Clássica da Madeira (youtube.com)

Astor Piazzolla [1921 - 1992] - Oblivion | Maestro Martin André (youtube.com)

Home | tangozenSecond helpings from someone else's table (cambriancrumbs.blogspot.com)

Wabi-sabi - Wikipedia

The Origin of the song ‘Oblivion’ | Brisbane House Of Tango