Tango Actual

Friday, October 20, 2006

The 34 puñaladas describe themselves as “an orchestra of tense strings and singer,” and that is exactly what they are: a quartet of three guitars plus guitarrón (a lower pitched guitar) that accompany a vocalist. This instrumentation is one of the classic formats for backing up tango singers, dating from the time of Carlos Gardel (1890-1935) and even earlier, though it is relatively rare to hear today. Therefore the very use of this instrumentation makes a complicated statement regarding the history of tango, and that same sense of complexity applies to almost every aspect of the 34 puñaladas’s music, from their selection of repertoire to their musical arrangements.

The unusual name of the group, which translates as “34 stabs,” is taken from the final line of the famous tango song “Amablemente” (“Nicely,” lyrics by Iván Diaz, music by Edmundo Rivero). Like the rest of the “prison tango” repertoire that the group specializes in, most of which dates from the early 20th century, “Amablemente” is a musical depiction of the heroically desperate lives of the urban poor at the margins of Argentine society: immigrants, criminals, street toughs, prostitutes. In this particular song, a man returns home to find his wife in the arms of another man. After dismissing the woman’s lover, because “the man is not responsible in these cases,” he sits down and asks his wife to make him a drink, which she does. After relaxing with his drink, he approaches his wife and “with great tranquility and nicely” stabs her 34 times, killing her.

Aside from the sometimes shockingly violent content of these songs—which are recognized by everyone as being misogynist and extremely non-P.C.—this repertoire is also famous for its use of lunfardo, a highly Italianized slang form of Spanish that is unique to Buenos Aires and almost entirely unintelligible to those not familiar with it, including most Argentines. (They sell lunfardo dictionaries in the bookshops here.) Revisiting this particular repertoire therefore necessarily means revisiting lunfardo as well. However, despite the barriers to intelligibility lunfardo presents, the age of the songs, and the perhaps not so radically different social worlds depicted in them, this repertoire still seems to have a lot to say to contemporary audiences.

The man who does the saying in the 34 puñaladas is Alejandro Guyot, whom I consider to be one of the best tango singers active today. Moving fluently between a solemnly spoken and forcefully sung voice, Guyot seems to embody the songs more than sing them. He creates a stage persona that makes the songs both believable and effective without being overly precious, and knows exactly how long to hold a note. Guyot is supported by musical arrangements that are as equally dark and atmospheric as the stories the songs depict. Relying heavily on biting dissonances, sequential layering of textures, and impressive use of space and silence, the group of guitarists play with the virtuosity and precision of a professional string quartet. While utilizing the complete resources of the instruments, the virtuosity of the group never came off as empty or simply impressive, even on the several instrumental pieces they played.

Taken together, this performance struck me as one of the most complicated, intense, and ultimately rewarding listening experiences I have had here. As the 34 puñaladas begin to incorporate more original material into their repertoire—they played three original songs here and are preparing a recording of entirely original material—we may hear that, in the underbelly of Buenos Aires, not that much has changed.

Related Recording
34 puñaladas, Argot (Acqua Records) 2006.

Related Link
www.34punaladas.com.ar