María de Buenos Aires
Deutsche Oper am Rhein

María de Buenos Aires

Piazzolla
Streaming in
Streamed on Available until Recorded on
Sung in
Spanish
Subtitles in
English
Spanish
German

The spirit summons the forgotten voice of María through a crack in the pavement and tells her story. She was born on a day when God was drunk. “I am María ... María Tango, María of the suburbs, María Night, María fatal passion, María of love for Buenos Aires am I!” - Searching for happiness, she leaves the suburbs, glows, gets high and plays, sells herself and, in death, becomes a mystical figure. As a shadow, María wanders through a world of surreal encounters, tracing life backwards from oblivion to birth - until she finds redemption through poetry. On a holy Sunday.

The founder of Tango Nuevo, Astor Piazzolla, created an homage to tango, which originated in the run-down harbor districts of Buenos Aires, with this abysmal passion story of María. Jazz, toccata and fugue are further ingredients of his musical composition between joie de vivre and melancholy. Deutsche Oper am Rhein’s new production is directed by Johannes Erath, who explores María's carnal and religious passions with a sharp eye.

CAST

María
Maria Kataeva
El Duende
Alejandro Guyot
Tango Argentino
Mariano Agustín Messad
Andrés Sautel
Agostina Tarchini
The shadow of María
Morenike Fadayomi
The voice of a payador
Jorge Espino
Bandoneon
Carmela Delgado
Orchestra
Düsseldorfer Symphoniker
Chorus
Chor der Deutschen Oper am Rhein
Extras
Statisterie der Deutschen Oper am Rhein
...
Music
Astor Piazzolla
Text
Horacio Ferrer
Director
Johannes Erath
Conductor
Mariano Chiacchiarini
Sets
Katrin Connan
Costumes
Jorge Jara
Chorus master
Albert Horne
Video
Bibi Abel
Lights
Nicol Hungsberg
Choreography
Agostina Tarchini
Dramaturgy
Anna Melcher
Assistant director
Sara Wittazscheck
...

VIDEOS

Trailer

Sneak peek at María de Buenos Aires

Tango operita about a woman born ‘one day when God was drunk’.

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Behind the scenes

The work of an assistant director

Sara Wittazscheck first set foot on the stage of Deutsche Oper am Rhein at an early age when she sang in the children’s chorus. Now some years later, she has become an assistant director on the very same stage. Coordinating rehearsals, checking all the props, keeping track of every detail during performances… discover an intense and exciting job behind the scenes of this new production of María de Buenos Aires.

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INSIGHTS


Absolute dedication and uncompromising seriousness


Conductor Mariano Chiacchiarini interviewed by dramaturg Anna Melcher


AM: You were born and raised in Buenos Aires. Do you recognise your city in María de Buenos Aires?

MC: Like Piazzolla, I was born in the province of Buenos Aires, a region roughly the size of Germany. The capital was always a great mystery to me, something to be discovered – not only because of its opulent buildings and French-style palaces, Teatro Colón, the stadiums or the restless dynamism of a large metropolis, but above all because of the endless nights. This tireless city never sleeps, it constantly urges passion, madness, a cultural city full of people from all over the world. That's why it's impossible not to recognise Buenos Aires in María de Buenos Aires: because tango is Buenos Aires and Buenos Aires is tango. It is a city with its own music and a music with its own city. The harbour city shown, the nocturnal, sometimes promiscuous, almost hallucinatory city of the operita, is just one of the many facets that make Buenos Aires a unique place.

You live in Cologne. How would you describe Argentine tango and its magic to someone from the Rhineland?

I have been living in the Rhineland for almost twenty years. That's why I know that you don't have to explain tango in detail to many people here: the scene here is large, lively and diverse, with both young and older people who are intensely interested in this music and its dance.

However, when I give an introduction, I always emphasise that tango is an art form based on three pillars. The first is the dance, which is perhaps the most visible and initially the most fascinating. The second is the music, which is exceptionally deep and intense. And the third – absolutely indispensable – pillar is its unique poetry. The lyrics of tango tell of melancholy, nostalgia, love and exile – both real and internal – of those European migrants who sought a better future in southern latitudes and were ultimately swallowed up by this magical city. Broken hearts, homesickness and loneliness are ever-present, but the magic lies not only in what is said, but how it is expressed.

What is new about Tango Nuevo? With what did the tangueros and tangueras of his time take issue?

For a long time, Piazzolla was considered a traitor in the world of tango. He himself proudly recounted that taxis in Buenos Aires would not stop when they saw him – a small but very telling gesture of rejection. There were several reasons. The first is his rhythmic revolution. Piazzolla shifted the traditional metrical emphasis of tango – usually on the first and third beats – to structures such as 3+3+2, influenced by the music he heard in his youth in New York, by klezmer and jazz, and, very significantly, by composers such as Bartók and Ginastera, his teacher. The central problem with this revolution was that his music was suddenly no longer traditionally danceable – something that seemed almost unforgivable to the tango world. But it didn't stop at rhythmic innovation. Piazzolla integrated instruments that were not part of the classic tango orchestra, such as drums and electric guitar – a veritable sacrilege for the orthodox guardians of the genre. What's more, Piazzolla deliberately wanted to provoke. He sought rupture, revolution. When he wrote this opera in 1968 – which is actually a major scenic experiment – tango was not in its best phase. It was increasingly being supplanted by other popular music genres, especially folk and rock. The Beatles – mentioned in Ferrer's lyrics – released the White Album, and the world was undergoing major upheavals, such as May 1968 in France and the conquest of space. ‘Tango Nuevo’ was initially the term Piazzolla used to describe his music. Later, he preferred to speak of the New Music of Buenos Aires in order to give it a clear identity with its own stamp.

What is particularly important when conducting Piazzolla's music?

The key to conducting Piazzolla's music is to approach it with absolute dedication and uncompromising seriousness. This music demands complete presence – both emotionally and intellectually. It cannot be mastered superficially. Piazzolla forgives no distance, no routine, no half-heartedness. On a technical level, it is essential to have a thorough knowledge of the specific tango effects, the playing style and, above all, the phrasing of the tango. The rhythm is never neutral, the accent never random, the rubato never decorative. Everything has meaning. Without a deep understanding of the inner tension, the breathing and the characteristic articulation of tango, the music remains lifeless, without essence. But in this sense, the approach to Piazzolla is no different from the approach to Mozart or Verdi: regardless of the repertoire, the dedication must be total. Whether classical opera, symphonic work or tango nuevo – music can only truly come into being if one is prepared to surrender oneself completely to it.

What role does the bandoneon play in Argentine tango? And what did tango sound like before the bandoneon came to Argentina?

The bandoneon entered tango out of necessity. Typical tango instruments were the violin, flute and guitar – they made the music agile, not only through fast tempos, but also so that it could be quickly hidden away in case of a police raid on the brothels. The classic scene of two men dancing the tango can be explained by the fact that tango was primarily the music played while waiting in the crowded brothels of Buenos Aires – a city full of men who often came to the south alone at first, so as to later provide a better life for their families here.

With the growth of tango and its spread to large ballrooms and later concert halls, there was a need for a melodic and harmonic instrument with greater sound power. So the bandoneon replaced the flute and the piano replaced the guitar – instruments that could fill a dance hall full of people talking, drinking or arguing without amplification.

The bandoneon was originally designed to be easy to play: using the same finger technique, you could switch from the tonic to the dominant by opening and closing the bellows – just like a small portable organ. But as soon as you wanted to play more complex music, this initial ease became extremely complex; when opening and closing, the finger positions are completely different, with two keyboards on the right and two on the left. An instrument that is illogical and stubborn by nature – and precisely for this reason was welcomed with open arms in Argentina. Its contradictory character reflects the same vitality, passion and uniqueness of the tango.

How does Piazzolla's María de Buenos Aires fit in with the passions of Johann Sebastian Bach?

Even though the work can be described as an opera, ‘operita’ or oratorio, it can also be understood as an anti-passion. In classical passions, the path leads from the Fall to redemption. In María de Buenos Aires, this path runs in exactly the opposite direction: from innocence and youthful freshness to sinfulness, darkness, night, loss, prohibition and corruption. It is precisely in this reverse progression that the deepest connection to the tradition of passion is revealed – reimagined, urban, modern and deeply influenced by Buenos Aires. María de Buenos Aires is an experiment in many respects. In instrumentation, formal elaboration, the combination of tango nuevo and scenic music, and the use of a narrative reciter who creates music from the spoken word itself. Horacio Ferrer's poem is exceptionally original – from its clear rhythmic and musical conception to its surreal, dreamlike, sometimes grotesque images of the city of Buenos Aires. The chorus plays a central role; a Greek chorus in the true sense of the term, which does not sing but speaks, dramatically intensifying the action on stage and taking on different roles.

A view from the orchestra pit ...

The concept for our version, developed together with Johannes Erath and the entire team at Deutsche Oper am Rhein, was ideal. From the very beginning, a symbiosis developed; we approached this music from different perspectives with the utmost seriousness, always striving to maintain the tension from beginning to end. Despite the abundance of surreal images that appear in the piece, we avoid isolated scenes that could interrupt the narrative thread. Everything should appear as a continuous, flowing path.