Leopold Stokowski-Native Brazilian Music Vol 2-78 RPM 1942 COLUMBIA C 84-VG+/EX
$
145
Favourite Auctions
To save auctions to your favourites, please login
If you don't have an account, please register
Description
ACTUAL ITEM PICTURED. Sleeve with some edge/shelf wear, attached hinges, VG/VG+, shellac with a few light hairlines, and a tiny edge chip before intro groove on Side 6, VG+, the remaining sides are EX condition. Good luck finding this again in ANY condition! MATRIX #'s: Record 36507: CO30152 and CO30153----Record 36508: CO30148 and CO30149----Record 36509: CO30163 and CO30193----Record 36510: CO30190 and CO30167.
International buyers please email me for shipping rates. I value my feedback, so if you are dissatisfied, please contact me before returns or posting feedback. I combine shipping on multiple items purchased. Thanks for looking!
Where were the recordings made?
Columbia had a recording studio in Rio de Janeiro, and that would have been the natural place to hold the sessions. But the Columbia affiliate in Brazil, Byington & Cia., wasn’t even notified. Instead, the musicians came aboard the S.S. Uruguay, where the great salon was outfitted with recording equipment courtesy of Columbia. Present during the recordings were not only the artists, but members of the press, musicians of the AAYO, ship passengers, and even the captain.
In his book Todo Tempo que Eu Viver (Rio de Janeiro, Corisco Edições, 1988), the filmmaker Roberto Moura quoted a reportage published in the newspaper A Noite on 8 August 1940:
[...] In its entire existence, the music salon of the Uruguay had perhaps never held so many celebrities as it did last night. [...]
At 10 pm began the gathering of conjuntos, escolas de samba, orchestra, people who were going to sing and people who were going to listen. In this last group was the ship’s captain himself, who soon took a place in a commodious armchair, from where he observed the whole parade.
Pixinguinha, Jararaca, Ratinho, Luís Americano, Augusto Calheiros, Donga, Zé Espinguela, Mauro César, João da Baiana, Janir Martins, a wing of Saudade do Cordão [sic], that garnered so much success in the last carnaval, the Escola de Samba Estação Primeira de Mangueira, the songwriter David Nasser, all these people talk, comment, discuss, until the recording work begins. As the hands of the clock move forward, the passengers of the Uruguay return from their tours in the city and take their places in the vast salon. And the groups who are recording follow each other in front of the microphone.
Midnight was long past when the maestros Stokowski and Villa-Lobos arrived. The photographers bestir themselves, eager to catch them in unexpected moments, but the famous conductor from Philadelphia flees discreetly from their lenses. Finaly he disappears altogether. But in his place remains Pixinguinha, who commands the general attention with his famous “Urubu Malandro”.
From one number to the next, the night passes and dawn surges. The music salon of the Uruguay is still full. Now the audience consists mainly of members of the All American Youth Orchestra, who are curious to learn about the Brazilian instruments. By morning, the sound engineer is able to count more than a hundred recordings. That is the work of one night, and also Brazilian music in its most typical expression, which will go to other countries of the Continent to serve the policy of pan-American approximation of the peoples in this hemisphere.
In short, the night was as much a social gathering as a working session, and recording conditions in the crowded salon were far from ideal, as can be easily ascertained from the albums Columbia released. The sound engineer was American—quite unfamiliar with Afro-Brazilian music and instruments—and he had to contend with recording at least forty numbers in one session. This was only the first intimation that Brazil’s “Good Neighbor” wasn’t assigning much importance to the music.
On Thursday, 8 August 1940, the newspaper O Globo announced on page one:
The previous evening, after his concert at the Teatro Municipal, Stokowski had returned to the ship to oversee the recordings. He retired exhausted at 3 am, but the recordings continued until daylight. According to some accounts, the session was resumed on the following night, but no information is available as to what might have been recorded then.
What was recorded on the night of 7 August and the morning of the 8th?
At least two detailed accounts exist, drawing on newspaper reports of the period. The accounts don’t match perfectly.
In his biography Pixinguinha, Vida e Obra, Sérgio Cabral quotes O Globo:
First, the maracatus and the frevos composed by Pixinguinha. Then choro solos by Luiz Americano and his conjunto. The sung portion began with Janir Martins, a Rádio Nacional singer possessing a good voice and good samba interpretation, and José Gonçalves, in Seu Mané Luiz. The same José Gonçalves recorded the samba de breque Uma Festa de Zés. The Estação Primeira de Mangueira, samba school, then sang four Cartola productions, all of the most legitimate flavor of our morros. Jararaca and Ratinho performed a desafio at the microphone and interpreted the difficult embolada Bambo no Bambu. To follow, Augusto Calheiros relived the modinhas of Catulo da Paixão Cearense. Into the scene entered the veterans of Sodade do Cordão [an attempt by Villa-Lobos to resurrect, in 1940, ancient carnaval manifestations] in an impressive presentation of monotonous melodies, at times noisy, others of the black magic. After four such recordings, two marchas de rancho by Donga and Davi Nasser were committed to wax: Meu Jardim and Quando uma Estrela Sorri, recorded by the Estação Primeira de Mangueira with soloist Mauro César. Composed by the same authors, the sambas Samba da Lua and Sofre Quem Faz Sofrer were recorded by Janir Martins & José Gonçalves and by Mauro César, respectively. Then came the number that caused the greatest sensation of the night: the flute solo of Pixinguinha in Urubu Malandro. All present were enthusiastic, not only with the picturesque music but with the superb execution of Pixinguinha, to the point that one of the orchestra’s section leaders said, “That is one of the best flutists I’ve ever heard.”The researchers Marília Trindade Barboza and Arthur L. de Oliveira pieced together newspaper reports replete with inaccuracies, omissions, and duplications to produce the following list of tunes, published in two of their biographies, Filho de Ogum Bexiguento (about Pixinguinha) and Cartola—Os Tempos Idos:
01. Seu Mané Luiz (partido alto by Donga & Cícero de Almeida)
02. Meu Amor (samba do morro by Cartola & Aluísio Dias)
03. Festa Encrencada (samba de breque by José Gonçalves)
04. Passarinho Bateu Asas (toada by Donga)
05. Sapo Dentro do Saco (embolada by Jararaca)
06. Orimé (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
07. Hoje É Dia (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
08. Afoché (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
09. Samba da Lua (batucada by Donga & David Nasser)
10. Intrigas no Buteco do Padilha (choro by Luiz Americano)
11. Tocando pra Você (choro by Luiz Americano)
12. Luiz Americano no Lido (choro by Luiz Americano)
13. Bole-Bole (maxixe by José Gonçalves)
14. Caboclo do Mato (fantasia on macumba by João da Bahiana)
15. Quequerequequê (fantasia on macumba by João da Bahiana)
16. Pelo Telefone (samba by Donga & Mauro de Almeida)
17. Bambu (embolada by Donga)
18. Primeiro Amor (samba do morro by Cartola & Aluísio Dias)
19. Apanhá Limão (samba by Jararaca)
20. José Barbino (maracatu by Pixinguinha & Jararaca
21. Na Praia (modinha by Raul Moraes)
22. Saia da Morena (embolada by Donga)
23. Tristeza (samba do morro by Cartola)
24. Quem Me Vê Sorrir (samba do morro by Cartola & Carlos Cachaça)
25. Ranchinho Desfeito (samba-canção by Donga & David Nasser)
26. Cambinda Velha (frevo by Pixinguinha)
27. Urubu Malandro (variations on samba by Pixinguinha)
28. Amarra a Vaca (embolada by Jararaca)
29. Alma de Tupi (modinha by Jararaca)
30. Taco Taco (desafio by Jararaca)
31. Sofre Quem Faz Sofrer (samba by Donga & David Nasser)
32. Romance de um Índio (samba by Donga & David Nasser)
33. Curimachô (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
34. Camandauê (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
35. Meu Jardim (marcha de rancho by Donga & David Nasser)
36. Ranchinho Desfeito (marcha de rancho by Donga & David Nasser)
37. Acoroagô (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
38. Canide-Ione (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
39. Nozani-Na (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
40. Teiru (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
“Ranchinho Desfeito” is listed twice, the second time as a marcha de rancho. According to Barboza and Oliveira, the song was recorded twice, but it could be that this marcha de rancho is “Quando uma Estrela Sorri” (by the same authors), mentioned in the O Globo report but missing from the list above.
On Friday, 9 August, with at least forty tunes recorded (some say a hundred), Stokowski bid adieu to Rio de Janeiro and left for São Paulo. What did he give the musicians for their work? Only his enthusiastic compliments.
Scans: Jim Braun
II. Scherzo poco allegro: Native Brazilian Music
Columbia Records released Stokowski’s Uruguay recordings in early 1942 (see the review published in Time magazine) under the title Native Brazilian Music. Of the forty tunes recorded, only seventeen saw the light of day, in two albums, each containing four 78-rpm discs. The albums’ liner notes announced:
Here in this album of Columbia Records you have the authentic music of Brazil...superbly played by native musicians...selected and recorded under the personal supervision of Leopold Stokowski.
These significant recordings were made during Maestro Stokowski’s tour of South America with the All-American Orchestra. At the various stops of the tour, Dr. Stokowski listened to the native folk and popular music as interpreted by the musicians of our Good Neighbor states. For recording purposes he chose what he thought was best and most typical.
Plans for these records were laid when arrangements were first completed to record, exclusively on Columbia Masterworks, the All-American Orchestra under Leopold Stokowski.
Pixinguinha’s acclaimed flute solo in “Urubu Malandro” was one of the many casualties. But truncation wasn’t the only deficiency of the albums. A mere six of the seventeen tune titles escaped butchery on the disc labels. Of the composers’ names, a scant three were correctly spelled. As for the performers, they were mostly ignored. In Volume Two, the song order was mixed up. And considering Stokowski’s zeal for “the most legitimate native Brazilian music,” the descriptions attached to the compositions are disappointingly inadequate. I’ve reformatted the label information for easier reading, although the spelling and the order remain as they were on Columbia’s discs:
Where were the recordings made?
Columbia had a recording studio in Rio de Janeiro, and that would have been the natural place to hold the sessions. But the Columbia affiliate in Brazil, Byington & Cia., wasn’t even notified. Instead, the musicians came aboard the S.S. Uruguay, where the great salon was outfitted with recording equipment courtesy of Columbia. Present during the recordings were not only the artists, but members of the press, musicians of the AAYO, ship passengers, and even the captain.
In his book Todo Tempo que Eu Viver (Rio de Janeiro, Corisco Edições, 1988), the filmmaker Roberto Moura quoted a reportage published in the newspaper A Noite on 8 August 1940:
[...] In its entire existence, the music salon of the Uruguay had perhaps never held so many celebrities as it did last night. [...]
At 10 pm began the gathering of conjuntos, escolas de samba, orchestra, people who were going to sing and people who were going to listen. In this last group was the ship’s captain himself, who soon took a place in a commodious armchair, from where he observed the whole parade.
Pixinguinha, Jararaca, Ratinho, Luís Americano, Augusto Calheiros, Donga, Zé Espinguela, Mauro César, João da Baiana, Janir Martins, a wing of Saudade do Cordão [sic], that garnered so much success in the last carnaval, the Escola de Samba Estação Primeira de Mangueira, the songwriter David Nasser, all these people talk, comment, discuss, until the recording work begins. As the hands of the clock move forward, the passengers of the Uruguay return from their tours in the city and take their places in the vast salon. And the groups who are recording follow each other in front of the microphone.
Midnight was long past when the maestros Stokowski and Villa-Lobos arrived. The photographers bestir themselves, eager to catch them in unexpected moments, but the famous conductor from Philadelphia flees discreetly from their lenses. Finaly he disappears altogether. But in his place remains Pixinguinha, who commands the general attention with his famous “Urubu Malandro”.
From one number to the next, the night passes and dawn surges. The music salon of the Uruguay is still full. Now the audience consists mainly of members of the All American Youth Orchestra, who are curious to learn about the Brazilian instruments. By morning, the sound engineer is able to count more than a hundred recordings. That is the work of one night, and also Brazilian music in its most typical expression, which will go to other countries of the Continent to serve the policy of pan-American approximation of the peoples in this hemisphere.
In short, the night was as much a social gathering as a working session, and recording conditions in the crowded salon were far from ideal, as can be easily ascertained from the albums Columbia released. The sound engineer was American—quite unfamiliar with Afro-Brazilian music and instruments—and he had to contend with recording at least forty numbers in one session. This was only the first intimation that Brazil’s “Good Neighbor” wasn’t assigning much importance to the music.
On Thursday, 8 August 1940, the newspaper O Globo announced on page one:
The previous evening, after his concert at the Teatro Municipal, Stokowski had returned to the ship to oversee the recordings. He retired exhausted at 3 am, but the recordings continued until daylight. According to some accounts, the session was resumed on the following night, but no information is available as to what might have been recorded then.
What was recorded on the night of 7 August and the morning of the 8th?
At least two detailed accounts exist, drawing on newspaper reports of the period. The accounts don’t match perfectly.
In his biography Pixinguinha, Vida e Obra, Sérgio Cabral quotes O Globo:
First, the maracatus and the frevos composed by Pixinguinha. Then choro solos by Luiz Americano and his conjunto. The sung portion began with Janir Martins, a Rádio Nacional singer possessing a good voice and good samba interpretation, and José Gonçalves, in Seu Mané Luiz. The same José Gonçalves recorded the samba de breque Uma Festa de Zés. The Estação Primeira de Mangueira, samba school, then sang four Cartola productions, all of the most legitimate flavor of our morros. Jararaca and Ratinho performed a desafio at the microphone and interpreted the difficult embolada Bambo no Bambu. To follow, Augusto Calheiros relived the modinhas of Catulo da Paixão Cearense. Into the scene entered the veterans of Sodade do Cordão [an attempt by Villa-Lobos to resurrect, in 1940, ancient carnaval manifestations] in an impressive presentation of monotonous melodies, at times noisy, others of the black magic. After four such recordings, two marchas de rancho by Donga and Davi Nasser were committed to wax: Meu Jardim and Quando uma Estrela Sorri, recorded by the Estação Primeira de Mangueira with soloist Mauro César. Composed by the same authors, the sambas Samba da Lua and Sofre Quem Faz Sofrer were recorded by Janir Martins & José Gonçalves and by Mauro César, respectively. Then came the number that caused the greatest sensation of the night: the flute solo of Pixinguinha in Urubu Malandro. All present were enthusiastic, not only with the picturesque music but with the superb execution of Pixinguinha, to the point that one of the orchestra’s section leaders said, “That is one of the best flutists I’ve ever heard.”The researchers Marília Trindade Barboza and Arthur L. de Oliveira pieced together newspaper reports replete with inaccuracies, omissions, and duplications to produce the following list of tunes, published in two of their biographies, Filho de Ogum Bexiguento (about Pixinguinha) and Cartola—Os Tempos Idos:
01. Seu Mané Luiz (partido alto by Donga & Cícero de Almeida)
02. Meu Amor (samba do morro by Cartola & Aluísio Dias)
03. Festa Encrencada (samba de breque by José Gonçalves)
04. Passarinho Bateu Asas (toada by Donga)
05. Sapo Dentro do Saco (embolada by Jararaca)
06. Orimé (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
07. Hoje É Dia (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
08. Afoché (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
09. Samba da Lua (batucada by Donga & David Nasser)
10. Intrigas no Buteco do Padilha (choro by Luiz Americano)
11. Tocando pra Você (choro by Luiz Americano)
12. Luiz Americano no Lido (choro by Luiz Americano)
13. Bole-Bole (maxixe by José Gonçalves)
14. Caboclo do Mato (fantasia on macumba by João da Bahiana)
15. Quequerequequê (fantasia on macumba by João da Bahiana)
16. Pelo Telefone (samba by Donga & Mauro de Almeida)
17. Bambu (embolada by Donga)
18. Primeiro Amor (samba do morro by Cartola & Aluísio Dias)
19. Apanhá Limão (samba by Jararaca)
20. José Barbino (maracatu by Pixinguinha & Jararaca
21. Na Praia (modinha by Raul Moraes)
22. Saia da Morena (embolada by Donga)
23. Tristeza (samba do morro by Cartola)
24. Quem Me Vê Sorrir (samba do morro by Cartola & Carlos Cachaça)
25. Ranchinho Desfeito (samba-canção by Donga & David Nasser)
26. Cambinda Velha (frevo by Pixinguinha)
27. Urubu Malandro (variations on samba by Pixinguinha)
28. Amarra a Vaca (embolada by Jararaca)
29. Alma de Tupi (modinha by Jararaca)
30. Taco Taco (desafio by Jararaca)
31. Sofre Quem Faz Sofrer (samba by Donga & David Nasser)
32. Romance de um Índio (samba by Donga & David Nasser)
33. Curimachô (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
34. Camandauê (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
35. Meu Jardim (marcha de rancho by Donga & David Nasser)
36. Ranchinho Desfeito (marcha de rancho by Donga & David Nasser)
37. Acoroagô (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
38. Canide-Ione (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
39. Nozani-Na (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
40. Teiru (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
“Ranchinho Desfeito” is listed twice, the second time as a marcha de rancho. According to Barboza and Oliveira, the song was recorded twice, but it could be that this marcha de rancho is “Quando uma Estrela Sorri” (by the same authors), mentioned in the O Globo report but missing from the list above.
On Friday, 9 August, with at least forty tunes recorded (some say a hundred), Stokowski bid adieu to Rio de Janeiro and left for São Paulo. What did he give the musicians for their work? Only his enthusiastic compliments.
II. Scherzo poco allegro: Native Brazilian Music
Columbia Records released Stokowski’s Uruguay recordings in early 1942 (see the review published in Time magazine) under the title Native Brazilian Music. Of the forty tunes recorded, only seventeen saw the light of day, in two albums, each containing four 78-rpm discs. The albums’ liner notes announced:
Here in this album of Columbia Records you have the authentic music of Brazil...superbly played by native musicians...selected and recorded under the personal supervision of Leopold Stokowski.
These significant recordings were made during Maestro Stokowski’s tour of South America with the All-American Orchestra. At the various stops of the tour, Dr. Stokowski listened to the native folk and popular music as interpreted by the musicians of our Good Neighbor states. For recording purposes he chose what he thought was best and most typical.
Plans for these records were laid when arrangements were first completed to record, exclusively on Columbia Masterworks, the All-American Orchestra under Leopold Stokowski.
Pixinguinha’s acclaimed flute solo in “Urubu Malandro” was one of the many casualties. But truncation wasn’t the only deficiency of the albums. A mere six of the seventeen tune titles escaped butchery on the disc labels. Of the composers’ names, a scant three were correctly spelled. As for the performers, they were mostly ignored. In Volume Two, the song order was mixed up. And considering Stokowski’s zeal for “the most legitimate native Brazilian music,” the descriptions attached to the compositions are disappointingly inadequate. I’ve reformatted the label information for easier reading, although the spelling and the order remain as they were on Columbia’s discs:
amiliar with Afro-Brazilian music and instruments—and he had to contend with recording at least forty numbers in one session. This was only the first intimation that Brazil’s “Good Neighbor” wasn’t assigning much importance to the music.
On Thursday, 8 August 1940, the newspaper O Globo announced on page one:
The previous evening, after his concert at the Teatro Municipal, Stokowski had returned to the ship to oversee the recordings. He retired exhausted at 3 am, but the recordings continued until daylight. According to some accounts, the session was resumed on the following night, but no information is available as to what might have been recorded then.
What was recorded on the night of 7 August and the morning of the 8th?
At least two detailed accounts exist, drawing on newspaper reports of the period. The accounts don’t match perfectly.
In his biography Pixinguinha, Vida e Obra, Sérgio Cabral quotes O Globo:
First, the maracatus and the frevos composed by Pixinguinha. Then choro solos by Luiz Americano and his conjunto. The sung portion began with Janir Martins, a Rádio Nacional singer possessing a good voice and good samba interpretation, and José Gonçalves, in Seu Mané Luiz. The same José Gonçalves recorded the samba de breque Uma Festa de Zés. The Estação Primeira de Mangueira, samba school, then sang four Cartola productions, all of the most legitimate flavor of our morros. Jararaca and Ratinho performed a desafio at the microphone and interpreted the difficult embolada Bambo no Bambu. To follow, Augusto Calheiros relived the modinhas of Catulo da Paixão Cearense. Into the scene entered the veterans of Sodade do Cordão [an attempt by Villa-Lobos to resurrect, in 1940, ancient carnaval manifestations] in an impressive presentation of monotonous melodies, at times noisy, others of the black magic. After four such recordings, two marchas de rancho by Donga and Davi Nasser were committed to wax: Meu Jardim and Quando uma Estrela Sorri, recorded by the Estação Primeira de Mangueira with soloist Mauro César. Composed by the same authors, the sambas Samba da Lua and Sofre Quem Faz Sofrer were recorded by Janir Martins & José Gonçalves and by Mauro César, respectively. Then came the number that caused the greatest sensation of the night: the flute solo of Pixinguinha in Urubu Malandro. All present were enthusiastic, not only with the picturesque music but with the superb execution of Pixinguinha, to the point that one of the orchestra’s section leaders said, “That is one of the best flutists I’ve ever heard.”The researchers Marília Trindade Barboza and Arthur L. de Oliveira pieced together newspaper reports replete with inaccuracies, omissions, and duplications to produce the following list of tunes, published in two of their biographies, Filho de Ogum Bexiguento (about Pixinguinha) and Cartola—Os Tempos Idos:
01. Seu Mané Luiz (partido alto by Donga & Cícero de Almeida)
02. Meu Amor (samba do morro by Cartola & Aluísio Dias)
03. Festa Encrencada (samba de breque by José Gonçalves)
04. Passarinho Bateu Asas (toada by Donga)
05. Sapo Dentro do Saco (embolada by Jararaca)
06. Orimé (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
07. Hoje É Dia (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
08. Afoché (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
09. Samba da Lua (batucada by Donga & David Nasser)
10. Intrigas no Buteco do Padilha (choro by Luiz Americano)
11. Tocando pra Você (choro by Luiz Americano)
12. Luiz Americano no Lido (choro by Luiz Americano)
13. Bole-Bole (maxixe by José Gonçalves)
14. Caboclo do Mato (fantasia on macumba by João da Bahiana)
15. Quequerequequê (fantasia on macumba by João da Bahiana)
16. Pelo Telefone (samba by Donga & Mauro de Almeida)
17. Bambu (embolada by Donga)
18. Primeiro Amor (samba do morro by Cartola & Aluísio Dias)
19. Apanhá Limão (samba by Jararaca)
20. José Barbino (maracatu by Pixinguinha & Jararaca
21. Na Praia (modinha by Raul Moraes)
22. Saia da Morena (embolada by Donga)
23. Tristeza (samba do morro by Cartola)
24. Quem Me Vê Sorrir (samba do morro by Cartola & Carlos Cachaça)
25. Ranchinho Desfeito (samba-canção by Donga & David Nasser)
26. Cambinda Velha (frevo by Pixinguinha)
27. Urubu Malandro (variations on samba by Pixinguinha)
28. Amarra a Vaca (embolada by Jararaca)
29. Alma de Tupi (modinha by Jararaca)
30. Taco Taco (desafio by Jararaca)
31. Sofre Quem Faz Sofrer (samba by Donga & David Nasser)
32. Romance de um Índio (samba by Donga & David Nasser)
33. Curimachô (macumba by Zé Espinguela)
34. Camandauê (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
35. Meu Jardim (marcha de rancho by Donga & David Nasser)
36. Ranchinho Desfeito (marcha de rancho by Donga & David Nasser)
37. Acoroagô (candomblé by Zé Espinguela)
38. Canide-Ione (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
39. Nozani-Na (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
40. Teiru (Amerindian chant elaborated by Villa-Lobos)
“Ranchinho Desfeito” is listed twice, the second time as a marcha de rancho. According to Barboza and Oliveira, the song was recorded twice, but it could be that this marcha de rancho is “Quando uma Estrela Sorri” (by the same authors), mentioned in the O Globo report but missing from the list above.
On Friday, 9 August, with at least forty tunes recorded (some say a hundred), Stokowski bid adieu to Rio de Janeiro and left for São Paulo. What did he give the musicians for their work? Only his enthusiastic compliments.
Scans: Jim Braun
Columbia Records released Stokowski’s Uruguay recordings in early 1942 (see the review published in Time magazine) under the title Native Brazilian Music. Of the forty tunes recorded, only seventeen saw the light of day, in two albums, each containing four 78-rpm discs. The albums’ liner notes announced:
Here in this album of Columbia Records you have the authentic music of Brazil...superbly played by native musicians...selected and recorded under the personal supervision of Leopold Stokowski.
These significant recordings were made during Maestro Stokowski’s tour of South America with the All-American Orchestra. At the various stops of the tour, Dr. Stokowski listened to the native folk and popular music as interpreted by the musicians of our Good Neighbor states. For recording purposes he chose what he thought was best and most typical.
Plans for these records were laid when arrangements were first completed to record, exclusively on Columbia Masterworks, the All-American Orchestra under Leopold Stokowski.
Pixinguinha’s acclaimed flute solo in “Urubu Malandro” was one of the many casualties. But truncation wasn’t the only deficiency of the albums. A mere six of the seventeen tune titles escaped butchery on the disc labels. Of the composers’ names, a scant three were correctly spelled. As for the performers, they were mostly ignored. In Volume Two, the song order was mixed up. And considering Stokowski’s zeal for “the most legitimate native Brazilian music,” the descriptions attached to the compositions are disappointingly inadequate. I’ve reformatted the label information for easier reading, although the spelling and the order remain as they were on Columbia’s discs:Where were the recordings made?
Columbia had a recording studio in Rio de Janeiro, and that would have been the natural place to hold the sessions. But the Columbia affiliate in Brazil, Byington & Cia., wasn’t even notified. Instead, the musicians came aboard the S.S. Uruguay, where the great salon was outfitted with recording equipment courtesy of Columbia. Present during the recordings were not only the artists, but members of the press, musicians of the AAYO, ship passengers, and even the captain.
In his book Todo Tempo que Eu Viver (Rio de Janeiro, Corisco Edições, 1988), the filmmaker Roberto Moura quoted a reportage published in the newspaper A Noite on 8 August 1940:
[...] In its entire existence, the music salon of the Uruguay had perhaps never held so many celebrities as it did last night. [...]
At 10 pm began the gathering of conjuntos, escolas de samba, orchestra, people who were going to sing and people who were going to listen. In this last group was the ship’s captain himself, who soon took a place in a commodious armchair, from where he observed the whole parade.
Pixinguinha, Jararaca, Ratinho, Luís Americano, Augusto Calheiros, Donga, Zé Espinguela, Mauro César, João da Baiana, Janir Martins, a wing of Saudade do Cordão [sic], that garnered so much success in the last carnaval, the Escola de Samba Estação Primeira de Mangueira, the songwriter David Nasser, all these people talk, comment, discuss, until the recording work begins. As the hands of the clock move forward, the passengers of the Uruguay return from their tours in the city and take their places in the vast salon. And the groups who are recording follow each other in front of the microphone.
Midnight was long past when the maestros Stokowski and Villa-Lobos arrived. The photographers bestir themselves, eager to catch them in unexpected moments, but the famous conductor from Philadelphia flees discreetly from their lenses. Finaly he disappears altogether. But in his place remains Pixinguinha, who commands the general attention with his famous “Urubu Malandro”.
From one number to the next, the night passes and dawn surges. The music salon of the Uruguay is still full. Now the audience consists mainly of members of the All American Youth Orchestra, who are curious to learn about the Brazilian instruments. By morning, the sound engineer is able to count more than a hundred recordings. That is the work of one night, and also Brazilian music in its most typical expression, which will go to other countries of the Continent to serve the policy of pan-American approximation of the peoples in this hemisphere.
In short, the night was as much a social gathering as a working session, and recording conditions in the crowded salon were far from ideal, as can be easily ascertained from the albums Columbia released. The sound engineer was American—quite unfamiliar with Afro-Brazilian music and instruments—and he had to contend with recording at least forty numbers in one session. This was only the first intimation that Brazil’s “Good Neighbor” wasn’t assigning much importance to the music.
On Thursday, 8 August 1940, the newspaper O Globo announced on page one:
The previous evening, after his concert at the Teatro Municipal, Stokowski had returned to the ship to oversee the recordings. He retired exhausted at 3 am, but the recordings continued until daylight. According to some accounts, the session was resumed on the following night, but no information is available as to what might have been recorded then.
What was recorded on the night of 7 August and the morning of the 8th?
At least two detailed accounts exist, drawing on newspaper reports of the period. The accounts don’t match perfectly.
In his biography Pixinguinha, Vida e Obra, Sérgio Cabral quotes O Globo:
First, the maracatus and the frevos composed by Pixinguinha. Then choro solos by Luiz Americano and his conjunto. The sung portion began with Janir Martins, a Rádio Nacional singer possessing a good voice and good samba interpretation, and José Gonçalves, in Seu Mané Luiz. The same José Gonçalves recorded the samba de breque Uma Festa de Zés. The Estação Primeira de Mangueira, samba school, then sang four Cartola productions, all of the most legitimate flavor of our morros. Jararaca and Ratinho performed a desafio at the microphone and interpreted the difficult embolada Bambo no Bambu. To follow, Augusto Calheiros relived the modinhas of Catulo da Paixão Cearense. Into the scene entered the veterans of Sodade do Cordão [an attempt by Villa-Lobos to resurrect, in 1940, ancient carnaval manifestations] in an impressive presentation of monotonous melodies, at times noisy, others of the black magic. After four such recordings, two marchas de rancho by Donga and Davi Nasser were committed to wax: Meu Jardim and Quando uma Estrela Sorri, recorded by the Estação Primeira de Mangueira with soloist Mauro César. Composed by the same authors, the sambas Samba da Lua and Sofre Quem Faz Sofrer were recorded by Janir Martins & José Gonçalves and by Mauro César, respectively. Then came the number that caused the greatest sensation of the night: the flute solo of Pixinguinha in Urubu Malandro. All present were enthusiastic, not only with the picturesque music but with the superb execution of Pixinguinha, to the point that one of the orchestra’s section leaders said, “That is one of the best flutists I’ve ever heard.”On Friday, 9 August, with at least forty tunes recorded (some say a hundred), Stokowski bid adieu to Rio de Janeiro and left for São Paulo. What did he give the musicians for their work? Only his enthusiastic compliments.
Scans: Jim Braun
II. Scherzo poco allegro: Native Brazilian Music
Columbia Records released Stokowski’s Uruguay recordings in early 1942 (see the review published in Time magazine) under the title Native Brazilian Music. Of the forty tunes recorded, only seventeen saw the light of day, in two albums, each containing four 78-rpm discs. The albums’ liner notes announced:
Here in this album of Columbia Records you have the authentic music of Brazil...superbly played by native musicians...selected and recorded under the personal supervision of Leopold Stokowski.
These significant recordings were made during Maestro Stokowski’s tour of South America with the All-American Orchestra. At the various stops of the tour, Dr. Stokowski listened to the native folk and popular music as interpreted by the musicians of our Good Neighbor states. For recording purposes he chose what he thought was best and most typical.
Plans for these records were laid when arrangements were first completed to record, exclusively on Columbia Masterworks, the All-American Orchestra under Leopold Stokowski.
Pixinguinha’s acclaimed flute solo in “Urubu Malandro” was one of the many casualties. But truncation wasn’t the only deficiency of the albums. A mere six of the seventeen tune titles escaped butchery on the disc labels. Of the composers’ names, a scant three were correctly spelled. As for the performers, they were mostly ignored. In Volume Two, the song order was mixed up. And considering Stokowski’s zeal for “the most legitimate native Brazilian music,” the descriptions attached to the compositions are disappointingly inadequate. I’ve reformatted the label information for easier reading, although the spelling and the order remain as they were on Columbia’s discs:
Where were the recordings made?
Columbia had a recording studio in Rio de Janeiro, and that would have been the natural place to hold the sessions. But the Columbia affiliate in Brazil, Byington & Cia., wasn’t even notified. Instead, the musicians came aboard the S.S. Uruguay, where the great salon was outfitted with recording equipment courtesy of Columbia. Present during the recordings were not only the artists, but members of the press, musicians of the AAYO, ship passengers, and even the captain.
In his book Todo Tempo que Eu Viver (Rio de Janeiro, Corisco Edições, 1988), the filmmaker Roberto Moura quoted a reportage published in the newspaper A Noite on 8 August 1940:
[...] In its entire existence, the music salon of the Uruguay had perhaps never held so many celebrities as it did last night. [...]
At 10 pm began the gathering of conjuntos, escolas de samba, orchestra, people who were going to sing and people who were going to listen. In this last group was the ship’s captain himself, who soon took a place in a commodious armchair, from where he observed the whole parade.
Pixinguinha, Jararaca, Ratinho, Luís Americano, Augusto Calheiros, Donga, Zé Espinguela, Mauro César, João da Baiana, Janir Martins, a wing of Saudade do Cordão [sic], that garnered so much success in the last carnaval, the Escola de Samba Estação Primeira de Mangueira, the songwriter David Nasser, all these people talk, comment, discuss, until the recording work begins. As the hands of the clock move forward, the passengers of the Uruguay return from their tours in the city and take their places in the vast salon. And the groups who are recording follow each other in front of the microphone.
Midnight was long past when the maestros Stokowski and Villa-Lobos arrived. The photographers bestir themselves, eager to catch them in unexpected moments, but the famous conductor from Philadelphia flees discreetly from their lenses. Finaly he disappears altogether. But in his place remains Pixinguinha, who commands the general attention with his famous “Urubu Malandro”.
From one number to the next, the night passes and dawn surges. The music salon of the Uruguay is still full. Now the audience consists mainly of members of the All American Youth Orchestra, who are curious to learn about the Brazilian instruments. By morning, the sound engineer is able to count more than a hundred recordings. That is the work of one night, and also Brazilian music in its most typical expression, which will go to other countries of the Continent to serve the policy of pan-American approximation of the peoples in this hemisphere.
In short, the night was as much a social gathering as a working session, and recording conditions in the crowded salon were far from ideal, as can be easily ascertained from the albums Columbia released. The sound engineer was American—quite unfamiliar with Afro-Brazilian music and instruments—and he had to contend with recording at least forty numbers in one session. This was only the first intimation that Brazil’s “Good Neighbor” wasn’t assigning much importance to the music.
On Thursday, 8 August 1940, the newspaper O Globo announced on page one:
The previous evening, after his concert at the Teatro Municipal, Stokowski had returned to the ship to oversee the recordings. He retired exhausted at 3 am, but the recordings continued until daylight. According to some accounts, the session was resumed on the following night, but no information is available as to what might have been recorded then.
What was recorded on the night of 7 August and the morning of the 8th?
At least two detailed accounts exist, drawing on newspaper reports of the period. The accounts don’t match perfectly.