MUSICSCAN
Wistful undertones
M.V. RAMAKRISHNAN
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A far more important reason for Fado making such a strong impact was the tremendous power inherent in the music itself.
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The fadistas: Amalia and Mariza.
I had discovered ... Fado more than 50 years ago, thanks to the broadcasts of Radio Goa. And after losing touch with it for a very long time, I have now discovered it all over again, thanks to the Internet.” — so I had said in this column two weeks ago (June 13).
Half a century has elapsed between these two phases of my life, and a distance of oceanic dimensions separates the technological, economic, social, and cultural manifestations of life then and now all over the world. And yet my memories of the traditional Fado I had heard when I was a young student aren’t substantially different from the impressions of current trends which I obtain today as a senior citizen.
I had developed a keen interest in European languages and Western music in my college days long before I learnt Hindi or discovered the true glory of Carnatic music, thanks mainly to an amazingly efficient six-valve HMV radio receiver made in England which my father had bought just before the Second World War.
Throughout the 1950s, I used to spend long sleepless nights listening to crystal-clear short-wave broadcasts from almost every capital city in Europe. For some mysterious reason, I could never receive any broadcast from Portugal; but that omission was made good by Radio Goa’s short but regular programmes of Portuguese music, especially Fado (pronounced Fadu, rhyming with Sadhu).
Nostalgic spirit
Those were days when long-playing records and tape-recorders were still far too expensive and unfamiliar, and I had to listen to the radio with absolutely intense concentration so as to register whatever I heard permanently in my memory. That’s probably why I still have so many vivid impressions of the kind of music I used to hear so long ago!
Of course, in some cases a far more important reason for such a strong impact was the tremendous power inherent in the music itself. I did acquire a smattering of Portuguese in due course, but even before that I was quite fascinated by the distinctly sorrowful tone of Fado, which could pierce your heart sometimes.
This urban folk music tradition had acquired certain intensely nostalgic undertones because it had evolved during the 19th century mainly in certain proletarian districts of Lisbon where there was a concentration of home-sick immigrants from Portugal’s far-flung colonies in Africa and South America, and also families and lovers of sailors who were usually absent and were sometimes missing altogether.
For more than a half-century from around 1940 to the mid-90s, the Fado scene was dominated by Amalia Rodrigues, who not only carried the folk art from the taverns in the poor districts of Lisbon to affluent social circles and sophisticated cultural settings, but also took it back to the grassroots level enriched with refined and poetic lyrics. Being also a beautiful actor-singer in several Portuguese films, she was mainly responsible for attracting international attention to Fado.
As in the case of old cultural traditions all over the world, there were also technical innovations in Fado in the 20th century. Thus the instrumentation, which had traditionally consisted only of a plaintive Portuguese guitar and an acoustic guitar, was extended to include the cello, piano and drums or even a whole orchestra sometimes.
But such modern trends haven’t materially altered the traditional spirit of Fado so far. Nostalgia, however, is a heavy cross to carry in cultural terms; and I do foresee an eventual shift in Fado’s ethos, from the constant contemplation of lost horizons to a hopeful quest for elusive but attainable fulfilment.
Listen to Fado online
Let me conclude these reflections by creating an opportunity for you not only to get an authentic taste of Fado’s melancholy flavour but also to understand the precise meaning of a beautiful song when simultaneously seeing and hearing it being sung by Mariza, who is the most popular fadista today. All you have to do is to reach out online to ‘YouTube: fado: mariza’, and play a video recording of her soulful rendering of ‘O gente da minha terra!’ (’Oh people of my land!’), just glancing at the Portuguese lyrics and my English translation below as you listen:-
E meu e vosso este fado
Destino que nos amarra,
Por mais que seja negado
As cordas de uma guitarra.
(This fado is mine as well as yours,
The destiny which binds us,
However much it’s denied
By the strings of a guitar).
Sempre que se ouve um gemido
D’uma guitarra a cantar,
Fica-se logo perdido
Com vontade de chorar.
(When one hears the plaint
Of a guitar’s strumming,
One is drowned at once
In a mood for weeping).
O gente da minha terra!
Agora é que eu percebi,
Esta tristeza que trago
Foi de vós que a recebi.
(Oh people of my land!
Only now I perceive,
This sorrow I endure
Was from you I received).
E pareceria ternura
Se eu me deixasse embalar:
Era maior a amargura,
Menos triste o meu cantar.
(It would be merciful
If I could be consoled:
Greater the bitterness,
Less sorrowful my song).
O gente da minha terra!....
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