{"id":12345,"date":"2022-10-21T00:00:55","date_gmt":"2022-10-21T04:00:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/magazineampm.com\/?p=12345"},"modified":"2022-10-20T14:54:52","modified_gmt":"2022-10-20T18:54:52","slug":"bola-de-nieve-ese-pianoman-intelectual-y-chic","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/magazineampm.com\/en\/bola-de-nieve-ese-pianoman-intelectual-y-chic\/","title":{"rendered":"Snowball, that pianoman, \"intellectual and chic\"."},"content":{"rendered":"

Without wishing to generalize, I believe that almost all music lovers have had a more or less common beginning: listening to the music our parents listened to. Whether we like them or not, whether we identify with them or not, is another five pesos. In my case (in my house) there was an endowment of LP and <\/span>singles<\/span><\/i>The music was not very big but varied, divided between those brought by them from the United States upon their return to Cuba in 1959, and those that they bought during my childhood years. There was everything: classical (Mozart, Bach, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff, Dvorak), boleros and songs (Meme Sol\u00eds, Gina Le\u00f3n, Elena Burke, Mario Su\u00e1rez, the one from <\/span>Juan Almeida and his songs<\/span><\/i>), dance (Benny Mor\u00e9), traditional (Los Hermanos Ajo), American songwriting of those years (Paul Anka, The Platters, Frank Sinatra), jazz (Stan Kenton, Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw), soundtracks (<\/span>A Farewell To Arms<\/span><\/i>) and orchestras such as <\/span>lounge<\/span><\/i> such as Stanley Black, Percy Faith and Enoch Light.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Among all these was <\/span>Recital<\/span><\/i>a Bola de Nieve record. I won't say that it immediately captivated my ear as a child, but, undoubtedly, its constant repetition made many of those songs lodge in my memories. I don't know if I ever saw it on TV. My memory stops only at that vinyl. Much later I began to rediscover the music of Ignacio Villa (1911-1971), especially in my days on the radio, through two ineffable friends who are no longer here, in love with the rescue of the past (Bladimir Zamora and Sigfredo Ariel) and whose programs were captivating for their realization and historical rigor. Later on, I also had the chance to broadcast it in a morning program of diverse music that I conducted. I am sure that the <\/span>background<\/span><\/i> of that old record was an incentive.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I was as surprised by the versions he made of other people's compositions as I was by his own signature versions. Among the former, this LP I mention was prodigal. He would appropriate a song, to the point that I would then listen to it by someone else (who could even be its author) and I would keep the Bola's song. I think of <\/span>life in rose<\/span><\/i> of the French Edith Piaf, as much as in <\/span>Cinnamon flower<\/span><\/i> of the Peruvian Chabuca Granda. She sang in several languages, and her Spanish could be totally academic or marginal, depending on the needs of the piece. I loved her recreation between <\/span>jazzy<\/span><\/i> and boler\u00edstica of <\/span>Be Careful, It's My Heart<\/span><\/i> by the American Irving Berlin, as well as the tango air of the <\/span>Vete de m\u00ed<\/span><\/i> by Argentine brothers Virgilio and Homero Exp\u00f3sito (<\/span>will be the best in your life, from the mist of yesterday, when you get to forget me, as is best the verse that we cannot remember<\/span><\/i>). The same applied to its <\/span>Babalu<\/span><\/i> by Margarita Lecuona, the anonymous <\/span>Perfect Mom<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>Messiah Julian<\/span><\/i> (Armando Or\u00e9fiche made it with him in mind) and the trilogy credited individually to the Grenet brothers: <\/span>Oh, Mama In\u00e9s<\/span><\/i> (Eliseo), the tender <\/span>Drume bold<\/span><\/i> (Ernesto) and <\/span>Vito Manu\u00e9, you don't know English.<\/span><\/i> (Emilio).\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n