Tim Hughes enters the surprisingly fascinating world of fiery Argentinian accordian virtuoso Chango Spasiuk.
TO MOST people, Argentina will always be synominous with the highly charged urban rhythm of the tango.
But there is a grittier, moodier and earthier side to the music of this vast South American country – one that hails not from sophisticated Buenos Aires, but from the hot tropical flatlands of the North East.
This intoxicating sound combines the music of Argentina, Brazil, Europe and the Guarani Indians, and its greatest proponent is the fiery accordion virtuoso Chango Spasiuk. A legend in his home country, Chango is now winning over open-minded audiences in Europe, even picking up a BBC Radio 3 World Music Award.
This week he brings his six-piece band to Oxford for what promises to be a unique show in the city’s Wesley Memorial Church.
We caught up with Chango to find out more about this enigmatic performer.
Chango, who are you?
There are people who have spent their life trying to answer this question... and I’m not going to be an exception. I’m still asking this myself: who am I, really?
What do you do?
I’m a musician. I compose and I play the accordion. I was born in the north east of Argentina, in a small town called Apostoles, 1,000km north from the city of tango, Buenos Aires.
The folk music I play is called chamamé – it a music with a 6/8 rhythm, traditionally played with accordion and guitar, where a lot of influences come together, that come out of the history of the region: indigenous Guaranis, Jesuits, a Creole population and immigrants from the rural parts of Eastern Europe.
It’s not a music that can be explained in words; it has to be experienced, and lived in.
How long have you been doing it?
I’ve been doing it since I was a child. There weren’t any music programmes on television in those days (almost no television at all, in fact) but there were village musicians around me, at weddings and fiestas, where my father also played the violin. And it was these village musicians I looked up to.
Playing music didn’t mean becoming famous in those times; it connected to a much simpler, deeper necessity of expressing oneself and communicating.
What does chamamé sound like?
It’s a rural music that started developing its character around the 1900s and had its golden time in the 60s. It has many faces. It can be happy and powerful, while at other moments it can convey a deep melancholy. I’m not exactly a traditional musician, but I work within the traditional language of the style.
Your music combines very different traditions of South American music. How does that work?
All these styles of music have a lot in common because they’re all from the same region. Geographically, the Northeast of Argentina, and especially Misiones, the province I come from, is like a finger of land stretching into the South of Brazil and Paraguay. So the diversity of colours is something that is natural to this music.
The purists must be shocked, I suppose?
If one was dependent on what others think it would be very difficult to walk on. For me, music is a space for liberty. But that doesn’t negate my responsibility to master the language I’m expressing myself in and be in tune with its history.
Isn’t accordion music old fashioned?
Like every other instrument, the accordion is just a means toward something else, not an end in itself.
It’s like asking a child what is more important: playing or toys?
I don’t know anything about Latin music. Why should I come to the gig?
What makes the experience of listening to and playing this music beautiful is that it is simple and unpretentious, while at the same time it’s very emotional, and sometimes even very physical.
Can we dance?
In its traditional form, this is a music that is often danced to, in couples. But in my music I like to distance myself from the typical image of Latin dance music, like salsa or merengue, and so there won’t be a ‘typical’ dance lesson before the concert either.
How do you find English audiences? Quieter than Latin ones I guess?
Of course they are different, and yes, they might seem quieter, but they could also seem more attentive for that.
Are you a keen traveller?
I do like travelling. But as they say, one is where their heart is. My heart is in my music, and to play my music I have to travel.
What is your philosophy on life and music?
At this moment, the words of Wittgenstein have a lot of truth for me: “Of what we cannot speak of, we should keep silent.”
Chango Spasiuk plays the Wesley Memorial Church, Oxford on Wednesday. Doors open at 7.30pm, with an opportunity to hear Chango talk about his music at 6.30pm. Tickets start at £14 (concessions £4 off). Call 01865 305305.
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