Plegaria. The Tango You Shall Not Dance
Those who have been dancing tango for years are well aware of the superstition or “yeta” surrounding the song “Adios Muchachos.”
It is largely believed that this was the last song that famed tango singer Carlos Gardel performed before his untimely death in 1935.
“Adios Muchachos” — which is generally perceived as a song of farewell — wasn’t actually the last song Gardel performed.
However, most, if not all, milongas refuse to play this song out of respect for the beloved singer and because many believe it can cause bad luck.
Superstitions surrounding Gardel’s “Adios Muchachos” typically narrate of tango dancers meeting accidents on stage or on the dance floor if this song is included in a tanda.
The blog La Sastresa even posted a fascinating personal account that describes how bad luck can be avoided when someone just so much as reads about “Adios Muchachos”:
“Picture this: I am reading about AM [Adios Muchachos], and now, while I type, I am using only one hand because the other one is holding onto my crotch. It seems that Carlos Gardel's last song before the fatal flight that took his life was the one you mentioned. Since then, singers regularly refuse to sing it in public because it is bad luck. [...] Our friend Nora D. adds that the women's version to keep the yeta away is to grab their left breast.”
Regardless of whether this yeta is true, what’s sure is that no self-respecting tango DJ will play “Adios Muchachos” in a tanda unless they are entirely unaware of the unspoken codigo pertaining to this song. From a more technical aspect, tango DJs will still think twice about including “Adios Muchachos” in a tanda because it can be difficult to dance to and may discourage participation from the crowd.
It is interesting to note that tango is no stranger to superstitions. In fact, tango has even been the subject of socio-political debate, especially during its early years. In 1913, which was considered the “Year of the Tango,” Pope Pius X even declared the dance as immoral. According to a post from the New England Historical Society,
“In November, Pope Pius X declared the tango immoral and off-limits to Catholics. If they partook in the dance, they were instructed to include it in their confessions and would need to do penance.”
Thus, it is no surprise that Argentine tango would become entangled in another historical event, though one marked by the death of millions: the Holocaust. For this particular historical event, “Plegaria” by Eduardo Bianco became a highly controversial song.
“Plegaria:” The Infamous “Tango of Death”
Similar to Gardel’s “Adios Muchachos,” the controversy surrounding “Plegaria” by Eduardo Bianco begins with a story. According to this popular anecdote,
a tango DJ played “Plegaria” during a tango festival, and an old woman came up to him. With tears in her eyes, the old woman asked the DJ to never play this song again, explaining that she was a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps and that “Plegaria” was one of the songs that Nazi officers forced Jewish musicians to play. Being made aware of this, the tango DJ never played this song again.
In many tango circles, “Plegaria” has become known as the “tango you shall not dance.”
https://www.historyextra.com/period/20th-century/auschwitz-birkenau-concentration-camp-legacy-what-happened-holocaust-how-remembered-liberation/
One might wonder why this particular song was the one specifically mentioned by the old woman in this story. As dark and disturbing as it may seem, it was not uncommon for the Nazis to commit acts of atrocity and murder to the accompaniment of song. A post from The Conversation paints a picture of how the Nazis used music to celebrate torture and murder:
“Stories of the integration of music and song into acts of torture and killing can be found throughout the interviews and memoirs of survivors.”
“As in Auschwitz, the SS detail at the Belzec killing center organized a prisoner orchestra for its entertainment. Every Sunday evening, members of the SS forced the ensemble to play for their enjoyment as they held a drunken party.”
“One of the SS troops amused himself by having the orchestra repeatedly play a melody while the other prisoners were forced to sing and dance, without respite.”
“Another Jewish survivor remembered listening to that same orchestra as it accompanied the cries of those being murdered in the camp’s gas chamber.”
“In the absence of an orchestra, troops could nonetheless spontaneously break into song.”
Additionally, the same post uses a photo from Agence France-Presse via Getty Images that bears this caption: “Prisoners play ‘The Tango of Death’ during the execution of Soviet citizens at the Janowska concentration camp in Ukraine.”
The song referred to as the “Tango of Death” is actually “Plegaria” by Bianco, which the old woman in the story mentioned. Surprisingly, “Plegaria” actually means “Prayer,” the lyrics of which speak of suffering and yearning for comfort.
The English translation of its lyrics can be found in Paul Bottomer’s YouTube account, who also did the translation from the original Spanish:
“Prayer that arrives in my soul
To the sound of the bells’ slow toll,
Prayer that is comfort and calm
For helpless souls.
The chapel organ
Overwhelms everyone with emotion,
While one soul, kneeling
Prays for comfort, prays for forgiveness.
Oh, my! Oh, Lord!
How much bitterness and pain.
When the sun sinks into darkness
(A Prayer) (chorus)
And slowly dies
Like a suffering soul,
(It pours from my soul) (chorus)
(It raises a prayer) (chorus)
In the sunset.
She died, the beautiful penitent
She died and her repentant soul,
Ascended far from this life
She passed away without pain, timidly.
And they recall that on a quiet night
Is heard a song of sorrow
And her sad soul, forgiven
Grief and mourning, sings to love”
How did such a song with a melancholy message become dubbed as the “Tango of Death” played during executions?
How the “Tango of Death” Gained Infamy
To understand how this came to be, it is important to become acquainted with Eduardo Bianco’s background. Paul Bottomer’s YouTube account provides some additional information about who Bianco was:
“Eduardo Bianco arrived in Europe from Argentina in 1924 and began mixing with the international playboy set, the rich, social climbers, and the aristocracy. In 1925, he wrote ‘Plegaria’ and dedicated it to King Alfonso XIII of Spain, who abdicated the same year. Bianco was a fascist sympathizer and dedicated his tango ‘Evocación’ to [Italian fascist dictator Benito] Mussolini and, in Berlin, played ‘Plegaria’ for [German führer Adolf] Hitler.”
To those wondering why Bianco left Argentina when it is supposedly the birthplace of tango, it was because Bianco was charged with murder and later acquitted.
His song “Poema” — another renowned tango song — is actually considered a deeply personal confession of the supposed crime.
The blog Poemas del Rio Wang describes in greater detail how Bianco became associated with powerful personages in Europe, which eventually led to “Plegaria” being dubbed as the “Tango of Death:”
“In 1924, Eduardo Bianco played the first violin in the orchestra of the famous Teatro Apolo at Avenida Corrientes.
Bianco learned that his wife cheated on him with the pianist of the orchestra, and shot his rival to death in a fit of jealousy. [...]
“Eduardo Bianco was jailed and tried for murder, and acquitted — according to José María Otero, owing to political connections of Bianco’s influential rich friend, Martin ‘Macoco’ Álzaga Unzué, a race driver, bon vivant, and night club owner whose circle included top entertainers, aristocrats, and mobsters. But the acquitted violinist had to leave Argentina. Soon, he sailed for France.
“In Paris, Bianco with the bandoneonist Juan Bautista Deambroggio ‘Bachicha,’ assembled Orquesta Típica Bianco-Bachicha, which started to play in the downstairs cabaret of the famed Argentine-themed Montmartre boîte, ‘El Garron,’ and toured Europe, the Americas, and Middle East.
He continued cultivating relationships with the rich and powerful, even dedicating his tango compositions to kings and queens, and (twice) to Benito Mussolini, and boasting of praise from [Soviet dictator Joseph] Stalin and Hitler.”
As he associated himself with the powers-that-be, Bianco eventually found an audience with Hitler. According to a post from Brisbane House of Tango:
“Bianco became friendly with Eduardo Labougle Carranza, the Argentine ambassador for Third Reich Berlin and a staunch anti-semite. Supposedly, both convinced Reich Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels that tango should replace the ‘racially tainted’ jazz music.
When Bianco and his orchestra performed before Adolf Hitler, the führer demanded an encore of ‘Plegaria.’ The Nazi leader would find a morbid use for the tango and, in the Auschwitz concentration camp, the prisoner band would be ordered to play it as prisoners were led to the gas chambers. Hence its name, ‘Tango of Death.’”
Paul Bottomer’s YouTube account gives a more specific location for where the legend of the “Death Tango” began — in Ukraine:
“At the camp at Janówska, Ukraine, the Nazis conducted their tortures, beatings and shootings to the accompaniment of music. For this purpose, they organized a special orchestra of prisoners.
They forced Professor Stricks and the well-known conductor Mund to lead this orchestra. They told composers to write a special tune, which they called ‘The Death Tango.’
Not long before the camp was liberated, the Germans shot all the members of the orchestra. The musicians of this orchestra (40 people) were forced to play ‘The Death Tango,’ during which the Nazis called out orchestra players one by one to the middle of the circle, made them take off their clothes and shot them in front of the other musicians. The conductor Mund was killed first. ‘The Death Tango’ died with these poor musicians."
This is also documented in the Nuremberg Trial Proceedings Vol. 7, as posted by Yale Law School’s The Avalon Project.
Aleksander Tytus Kuliesiewicz, a survivor of the Nazi Sachsenhausen death camp, sings a version of “Das Todestango” (“The Death Tango”) with words that differ from Bianco’s “Plegaria.” Along with other tangos and classical pieces, this song was also used to accompany executions in death camps. The Smithsonian Folkways Recordings provides an audio recording of this haunting song. The lyrics are translated as thus:
“Hear it, how the fiddle sobbing plays
Bloody notes of sweet string music
Hear it, how your heartbeat fades away
And so death tango plays
Have no fear, my dear
Sand will cover your body
Bright star candles be your nightlight
And your pillow be a single stone
But happy you will be so all alone
Shots are falling, bullets flying
Separation! Poison! Keep playing
And if death grabs for your hand
Just be ready, death’s a friend”
Thus, it isn’t at all difficult to believe the story of the old woman who tearfully begged the tango DJ not to play “Plegaria” during the festival.
Since tango’s codigos are spread through word-of-mouth, the legend of the “Tango of Death” is likely to have reached many tango dancers and DJs who respectfully steer away from this song in milongas.
Similar to Gardel’s “Adios Muchachos,” it would indeed be considered in bad taste to play “Plegaria” in a social event that celebrates life and a sense of community.
Art vs. Artist
It is interesting to note that a YouTube commenter pointed out how the Soviets used the same “Tango of Death” against the Nazis during World War II. The commenter notes:
“It is a little strange to label Eduardo Bianco as a fascist, because since [former Argentine President and military dictator Juan Perón was a known fascist and friend of Mussolini, is this fact enough to make all the Golden Age musicians as fascists as well? (Knowing that [Osvaldo] Pugliese was a proud communist.)”
The commenter proceeds to link to an article by We Are the Mighty titled, “Listen to the tango the Red Army used to intimidate the Nazis at Stalingrad.”
In the case of Bianco, can the art then be separated from the artist? Many tango dancers still consider his “Poema” a favorite while “Plegaria” has garnered the unenviable reputation of being “the tango you shall not dance.” Perhaps, only time can tell.
“Plegaria,” however, may serve as a remembrance of the atrocities committed in the past so that humankind will never repeat them again.