Killer Opening Songs (Há Uma Música Do Povo)

Music that serves as an accompaniment (others would say antidote, but that’s their opinion and they’re perfectly entitled to it. Thank you very much) to autumn’s rich orange and red hues must have a nostalgic feel to it. That’s why this week Killer Opening Songs settled for the first track of the third album by the queen of fado, Mariza.

K.O.S. is not in the habit of bequeathing royal titles on artists just for the sake of it, but in this case, the accolade is thoroughly deserved. Fado is that kind of musical genre of which many people are still unaware, but which, once acknowledged and listened to, leaves an indelible mark on sensitive souls. And Mariza is the perfect vehicle for that conversion. Armed with an extraordinary voice, the looks and stage presence of a modern Marlene Dietrich and a strong production team behind her, the Portuguese singer has been pivotal in the revival of this old tradition. Transparente (released in 2005) is the third CD of what has been so far a stellar decade-old career. The record builds up on the success of its predecessors, her trail-blazing debut Fado em Mim and the exquisite Fado Curvo.

Fundamental in Transparente’s success is the Introductory Melody with Murderous Tendencies, Há Uma Música Do Povo (There’s a Song of the People), a poem originally written by the Portuguese poet, philosopher, translator and literary critic, Fernando Pessoa. This brooding, dark-edge ballad is perfect for the early evenings that become the norm once October kicks in. Its lyrics are testament to the stronghold music has over us: Há uma música do povo/Nem sei dizer se é um fado/Que ouvindo-a há um ritmo novo/No ser que tenho guardado (There is a song of the people/I don't even know if it is a fado/When I hear it, there's a new rhythm/In the being I have in me).

Há Uma Música Do Povo is also the key that unlocks a trunkful of breathtaking and innovative songs. They are supported by a bold approach to arrangements to traditional fado melodies. For fado purists, this means having to put up with non-traditional instruments such as flute and accordion. For fusion lovers, like Killer Opening Songs, what Mariza has done is simply reach out to the Lusophone Diaspora and include rhythms such as morna (Cape Verde) and bossa nova (Brazil). After all, the album was recorded in Rio do Janeiro and produced by the Brazilian Jaques Morelenbaumtakes.

Since Transparente Mariza has released two more CDs, Terra and Fado Tradicional. But for evidence of what a true artist can do with tradition (revive it and rework it) look no further than Fado de Mim, Fado Curvo and Transparente. And, of course, it’s because of the Killer Opening Song, Há Uma Música Do Povo, that you, too, will fall for this fadista’s charms, her haunting voice and her delicate arrangements.

© 2012

Next Post: “Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music”, to be posted on 4th November at 10am (GMT)

Living in a Bilingual World (Portuguese State of Mind)

There are words in some languages that are enticingly built for pleasure. These are terms that roll off the tip of our tongue with no brakes on, falling blithely into a realm of self-indulgence and hedonism.

The Portuguese word saudade is the only term I know of whose meaning escapes the borders of linguistics and enters the kingdom of emotions and feelings. For starters it is an ambiguous term, as in it hasn't a definite meaning. Depending on the context it is used in it can convey different ideas. I have seen it translated as 'longing' in English, but even that is rather misleading as it can also signify 'joy'. Everytime I hear it, it catches me unawares in the same way someone who steps on the back of my shoe in the underground does.

In order to write this post I e-mailed my dance students (many of which speak Portuguese) and fellow dance tutors (some of which come from Brazil, Angola and Portugal) and asked them to give me their definition of saudade. I have included some of their replies below (no contribution has been altered or edited). As you will see their responses are not clear-cut and exact. And how can you be with a word whose significance is chiefly affirmed by the speakers who utilise it? And by those of us who, though not able to speak the language fluently, appreciate the feelings evoked by one of its linguistic jewels.

This is from Mireilla, a long-standing dance pupil of mine:

What about nostalgia or a yearning,nostalgic longing?

Francesca, on the other hand, has one of her co-workers help her out with my enquiry:

My Brazilian colleague says: it can mean positive but also negative feelings, such as missing somebody or something from the past, feeling blue or nostalgic. There is no such word in English.

Mariana could hardly contain her enthusiasm when she received my electronic missive:

hello, what a lovely email to receive

i'm half brazilian and half english, born in sao paulo raised in london, bilingual and work in theatre and dance. i think you touch on the wonders of bilingualism. i think i once read or someone once told me that with every new language we learn a new way to see and experience life, new ways to live and as a theatre practioner interested in multi lingual performance i discover something new in this way every day, but the best thing about it is that there is no absolute. language changes according to the meaning needed at the point in time, by who speaks it and where they are, and how beautiful is that!

anyway im sure you know or have you own views on this as a linguist, but i thought id write these words down as i feel the beauty of what you hit upon is that we dont always need to rely on one definition, conflicting and differing ones can also be valid.

Saudades Carinho and Companero are my favourite words in portuguese. Saudades to me in brief is the feeling you feel when you miss someone, therefore it can be however that feeling manifests to you.We dont have a descriptive word for that feeling in english, we have the past action i missed or i am missing which suggests the action that occurs now, and we understand the feeling associated in this way, but we dont actually have a word for the feeling, i dont think. Perhpas longing? but thats not exactly it cos it applies want, and is perhaps melancholy, with sad notionsSaudades is an arduous feeling, we love and hate, i think saudades cements what you feel for someone, your love you friendship you concern with another morfs into another version of itself whilst the other is distant. another one for you just for the hell of it, i thought i understand companero but i was being too literal.an alternative is 'the one you part bread with', few of my english, conservative, capitalist extreme friends could not get their heads around that. i guess our lived experiences no longer reflect that action so much. thank you for a lovely email and giving me an outlet to rant about something im passionate about.

Zela, though not fluent in Portuguese, contributed to the discussion:

I have never spoken a word of Portuguese but now that you share this with me I think its great to know that one word could mean so much that it cannot be explained in English except that we accept it for what it is/ the feeling it brings you when you say it .....The true meaning of love is ultimately the great feelings of joy and prosperity and divine inspiration that comes with so much more that you cant quite put your finger on defining it.

Maybe it is the thought that love (Saudade) if it stands for all those things; tenderness, affection and care it is most definately overwhelmingly magnificent!

I have left for the end the reply I got from Iris de Brito, an Angolan choreographer and fellow tutor who describes this Portuguese word thus:

Saudade- You are right, its quite difficult to describe in one word.I would say it describes the act of missing someone or something, but it can also be implying a certain melancholy mixed with tenderness and love for the familiar and things we hold most dear.Its present in many songs of Fado in Lisbon, Morna in Cabo-Verde or Kilapanda in Angola, it became a word that described a longing, a sentiment deep set in our hearts.At school we were also told that this word/feeling evolved from the time of the Portuguese Discoveries when women lost their man to the sea and were waiting for them to come back indefinitely.

And in order to demonstrate with images what this word cannot explain in writing I shall leave you with a clip by the Portuguese singer Mariza singing 'Meu Fado Meu'. This is also this week's 'Song for a Winter Sunday Morning. Enjoy, com muita saudade.



Copyright 2009

Autumn Songs (1st Mov 'Andante', 2nd Mov 'Lento', 3rd Mov 'Andante' 4th Mov 'Lento'

As this unique palette of red, yellow and orange falls upon us and the sun dyes its hair a camp auburn, the music that mostly calls to me now is tango. A good old milonga from Uruguay or Argentina that carries with it the echoes of its Bantu ancestry. The term milonga comes from this African language and it translates as 'lyrics'. But words are not needed where music reigns supreme and this is the case with the first clip.

Astor Piazzolla was the indisputed 'King of the bandoneon' in Argentine, his birthplace. He transformed 'tango', incorporating elements from jazz and classical music. And it's because of his importance as a musician, composer and bandleader that I would like to open this week's Autumn Songs session with a clip of him playing one of his most famous pieces, 'Libertango'.

My second clip comes all the way from Portugal. Because we already have tango (see above), bolero and bossa nova in Latin America, it took me longer to understand and appreciate 'fado', that musical lament from that Iberian country that best conveys the word 'saudade; the one term I've asked countless Brazilians and Portuguese alike to translate to me into Spanish and/or English and which every single one of them have failed to do. And when you listen to 'fado' you understand why. So, no more explanations. Here's one of the better ambassadors of 'fado' nowadays.

Next up is a band that defies conventions. Those who want to package them up into a little chill-out bundle will have problems doing so as their latest album shows. This clip is from their first record and it always reminds me of the place we go to in Spain every year, up in the mountains near Granada. It brings back memories of early chilly October mornings watching my children playing with the two local cats whilst my wife and I have our breakfast in the front garden. Pomegranates drop to the ground and their splash creates a whole rainbow of reddish hues, incapable of being re-created by hand, expert painter notwithstanding.

Lastly, where would autumn be without a piano? Just like Astor's bandoneon, the piano is autumn's instrument par excellence. Little did Chopin know that when he wrote his Etude in E Op 10 'Tristesse' it would become the schmaltzy karaoke hit 'So Deep is the Night' belted out by drunkards in places like Blackpool. But here on this blog we like quality and therefore I have a lovely performance of this timeless autumn number for you my fellow readers/bloggers/posters.

And this is all for today. I hope you enjoyed this week's selection.

Copyright 2007