Tango jazz - música en Argentina - TT: Tango Jazz - TA: music in Argentina

Latin Beat Magazine, Oct, 2000 by Paquito D'Rivera

Based on a true story

The old friends and countrymen who had not seen each other for several years hugged each other with emotion on the corner of Buenos Aires where Corrientes Street meets 9 de Julio Avenue, in front of a square called Plaza de La República, where the impressive obelisk that commemorates the 400 years since the founding of Buenos Aires sits in the background, reaching up to the starry sky of the beautiful capital city of the native country of José de San Martin.

One of those men was Pucho Escalante, a hilarious musician from Guantánamo, whose profession consisted of blowing into his nomadic trombone around the globe, and who was coming now from Caracas to record a session with the orchestra led by his compatriot; the composer and pianist Adolfo Guzmán, who had established himself in Buenos Aires a few years back.

The scrawny, lanky figure and the light eyes of the restless "Pucho el Cabezón" (Big Head Pucho), a term of endearment used by his friends and colleagues, contrasted with the chubby, overstuffed constitution, dark hair and permanently melancholy, almost dreaming gaze of the illustrious composer.

Immortalized in the movies of Libertad Lamarque and Hugo Carril, the gay Corrientes Street, with its myriad lights and signs now looked as an earthy extension of that starry sky.

"Look Adolfo, the first thing I want to ask of you is that you take me to see Dizzy Gillespie, as I read in a newspaper in Caracas that he was playing here in Buenos Aires at the Casino Theater on Maipú Street, isn't that right?"

"I can tell you are well informed, my dear 'Puchini,' but that took place almost a week ago, and the Dizzy man has probably gone home to New York," replied Guzmán, as his very close friend put on a sad face upon hearing the bad news. "But since you are here, what I really don't want you to miss is the marvelous tango group of Osvaldo Fresedo, since they are playing tonight at the Rendezvous Cabaret, a very chic place owned by the bandoneón player I was telling you about."

"Well, all is not lost, so let's go there, buddy, let's not waste one more minute," said the happy guantanamero trombonist, putting his arm around the shoulders of the author of Profecía.

The two musicians started to walk down the busy streets of Buenos Aires, a city that has hundreds of pizzerias, outdoor cafes, green parks, and solid marble monuments with a European flair.

People from Uruguay say that an Argentine is something like an Italian who speaks Spanish, thinks like a German, and believes he is French. But even with all the shortcomings one may wish to assign to Argentines, the truth is that they are very hospitable people who have a spacious and beautiful capital city; a combination of Spain, Italy, and a neighborhood tango, a musical genre that was born of a mother from Havana and a porteño father from Buenos Aires, who adopted as his own the bandoneón, an archaic Germanic instrument that is extremely hard to play, and that in addition was discontinued when the factory was destroyed during the Second World War, meaning that the only way to continue this tradition is to repair those that are still around. There is no doubt that the city of Buenos Aires, with its aroma of brewing mate tea and charcoaled beef, the sad lyrics of the milonga tangos that talk of prisoners and betrayed love, the strumming of the guitars coming out of the night clubs during soirées for partying, and the sensual walk of its beautiful women, is a unique experience that is worthy of being lived at its utmost.

Rendezvous, just as Guzmán had said, was a chic place, having a French look, with windows half-covered with lamé curtains, waiters with white frock coats and silverware and silver candelabra over tablecloths and napkins made of linen on the tables.

"Look, Pucho Escalante, let me introduce you to Lalo Schifrin, the conductor of the best big band in Buenos Aires."

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you. Do you live in our country?" Schifrin wanted to know.

"No, no, I am only coming through here for a few days, working with our friend over here," the trombone player replied, pointing to Guzmán and then shaking the hand of the young and versatile Argentine composer that years later would become famous as the pianist-arranger for Dizzy Gillespie as well as the composer of many Hollywood scores.

"Well, welcome to Buenos Aires," said Lalo politely with a smile, as he addressed his colleague Guzmán, going on to say, "I saw you from afar in the Casino Theater, but there were so many around for Dizzy's show that I was notable to reach you."

"Is it true that he appeared riding a horse?" an intrigued Pucho asked.

"Well, everyone knows that Dizzy is eccentric, right?" Lalo explained, shrugging his shoulders.

"Ahh, and I missed all that for not coming over a few days ahead of time," the new arrival complained sadly. "Now only God knows when I will be able to join up with Gillespie again."

"Yes, and I had to leave in a hurry before the show ended as I had to play the second part of the show at the Coliseum with the 'Pichuco' Troilo Band. You know I need to earn my pizza, right?" Guzmán added in a confidential and light-hearted tone of voice.