The pristine islands (Roots - Longing)
The fado and 'was a recent discovery for me, just a couple of years, overheard in a very classic piece of classical guitar accompanied by Fado, the Portuguese guitar and voice so very special' like an instrument of Mary Joao.
From them, and 'began a path towards the fado and as I discovered songs, singers, paths, I realized that fado has common roots with blues, but the particularity' that distinguishes it and 'to have remained immune to the contamination and to commercial logic.
Fado means fate or destiny, and literally, and 'a kind of music mostly sung, and it expresses' indissolubly linked to the term "saudade," a term from the translation almost impossible, that expresses this sentiment throughout Portuguese and Brazilian "nostalgia" though longing and 'limited because the saudade is not' only refers to the past, but contains within it live and hope for the future.
The combination of dark and melancholic fado music is not 'exact and not all the fado' sad, because while it is true that the feeling of the Portuguese people and 'inevitably related to the pain from the constant wars, the singing of the African slaves of the Portuguese colonies, the legends about the sea and 'salty tears shed by the Portuguese women awaiting the return of the sailors, there is always that tension toward the horizon, toward the sea to navigate and explore.
A sensitivity 'seems to come out of the all-female fado, and in fact the most' great interpreters of this music are typically female voice, with a way to express this feeling at least incomprehensible to most of us Europeans.
To quote one of the most Mysia 'great contemporary interpreters of fado:
"Nosotras exorcizamos el dolor de la vida de una manera más que el hombre natural. Claro que hay de grandes cantantes fado, but I fascinan femeninas porque las voces transmiten with the tragedy más fuerza de la vida. "
A strange that Europe Portugal remains largely untouched, as the social fabric, very far from the bright lights of the modern West, a reality 'still rural and simple.
And wonder of wonders fado seems to be immune to globalization, and probably this and 'good, listen to a piece of fado singers of even the most' recent as Mariza and Misia, or 'always experience a "metaphysical", as a plunge into the past and listen something that can get beyond the commercial monopolies of music, a pristine oasis in a world music often "corrupted" by the logic of mergers as an exercise of style.
For if in the previous post I talked about a natural fusion of roots of communities where musicians bring in their souls these common roots (roots as saying in the Arabian comment to previous post) do nothing but process them and make them come out naturally in their music, there are many examples of fusion that are not as natural but are of the species of monsters created artificially in the laboratory with the sole purpose and pursuit of purely commercial logic.
And 'as if the identity' of the tiny Portuguese people were immune to this type of contamination, and I do not think it is nationalism an end in itself but simply by the fact that these roots are so deeply rooted, so strong, that sea that so given and taken away to the Portuguese people continues to be present at that feeling of "saudade", a way to live daily events.
We have examples of contamination of fado, but in this case are the natural state of this music, classical music, with openings to the introduction of the piano (a beautiful combination that makes Mysia in its disk Paixoes Diagonais hosting one of the most 'big interpreters of the music of Chopin Maria Joao Pires in portugal), or to Africa that it always represents the matrix, the origin of the mother of all rhythms.
And it 's impossible to see fado disconnected from poetry, Portuguese literature other feature that makes it so' difficult contaminabile. The interpreters of fado recent past have always drawn from the poem, and 'also imbued with a feeling I would say very close symbiosis with the music of fado. And the verses of Pessoa present in the compositions of Mariza and Misia always attract some of the tragedy umano.Eppure always live in the notes, the music of such singers as in the texts of Portuguese poets feel a strong tension towards the future, the hope that the tragedy of human life contains within it the light.
The fortunate islands (F.Pessoa)
Which voice is the sound of the waves
that is not the voice of the sea?
And 'the voice of someone who speaks to us,
but, if we listen, silent,
just to be made to listen.
And only when, half asleep,
We hear no more we hear,
it speaks of hope
towards which, as a child
sleeping, sleeping smile.
I am fortunate islands,
are lands that do not occur,
where the King lives waiting.
But, if you go arousing,
the voice is silent, and only there is the sea.
Yes is beautiful fado. I like its being intimately tragic, deeply fatalistic, but also full of hope and magic.
The voices of fado singers then are hypnotic, intense, painful and very personal.
I also recommend Bevinda especially Factum and Dulce Pontes (if you do not already know)
Dulce Pontes know it and love it, no Bevinda will provide 'just to listen, thanks for the warning :-)
Hello
Hello quoyle.
although it was more times in portugal (perhaps unexpected thing for oriental soul like mine!), and although she loved very pessoa, I never studied the tradition of fado. this post, pear ², would be a good starting point.
Hello Mr. Quoyle!
The fado is not a lot of my comfort zone but I love Pessoa.
And I always like to read you!
ps: but according to you, because my pc © does not permit me more than listening Either what is "on air" in the various blogs that I visit?
Help!!
try to install Real Audio http://www.realaudio.com
The fado listening carefully you will discover many things in common with the blues, and sounds like 'trying to listen to the two streams which I linked in the post matching components of sounds' really hypnotic least for me where I get lost as to look at the horizon ( even those you have to install realaudio)
Hello Nica
Many years ago, maybe almost a lot, my dad takes us ² in Portugal. 1985 or was already than the rises there.
one evening to dinner at an unnamed restaurant in the barrio, in Lisbon and a beautiful woman across the table to ours.
I see my father get up and go to kiss the hand of this woman. My father, the bear, not what is ever moved. speak softly. he asks her to sing, she says she has stopped.
she asks him his name, he teaches him. She smiles at him, tells him that she loved so much a man of the same name in Italy.
then gets up and sings, no music.
My father comes to the table and I wonder who that is. My father says, is called Amalia.
Amalia was.
@ Flounder pretty good this thing and the way in which you told