Εστουδιαντίνες και ιταλικά τραγούδια

Βρήκα ένα ενδιαφέρον άρθρο για τα ιταλικά πρωτότυπα μερικών τραγουδιών που συνδέονται με τις μικρασιάτικες Εστουδιαντίνες:

An_intricate_fabric_of_influences_and_co (1).pdf (500,8 KB)

Γράφει επίσης ο Ορδουλίδης:

https://vmrebetiko.gr/item/?id=4372

Βέβαια, στο y-tube αυτά τα τραγούδια αναφέρονται ακόμα ως “παραδοσιακά μικροασιάτικα/πολίτικα” ή ακόμα ως “ρεμπέτικα”!

Και δεν το λέω απαξιωτικά, απλώς μου φαίνεται ότι ο όρος “παραδοσιακός” μαζί με έναν γεωγραφικό προσδιορισμό τελικά καλύπτει πολλά πραγμάτα και φαινόμενα.

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μα το τικιτικιτακ κυκλοφόρησε ως ρεμπέτικο στην αρχικη του περιγραφη στο δίσκο!

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Έχω την εντύπωση ότι η ορολογία ήταν αρκετά “φλου” εκεινα τα χρόνια. Το επισημαίνει και ο Gauntlett.

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ναι και ο Πεννανεν θιγει το θέμα

δες εδω τις ετικετες

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Για τις πληροφορίες στις ετικέτες και άλλα συναφή θέματα, περάστε κι από εδώ:

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Απόσπασμα από ένα άρθρο του Martin Stokes:

The story of the ‘Neapolitan’ mandolin, discussed by various contributors to Plastino and Sciorra’s Neapolitan Postcards: Neapollitan Song as Transnational Subject (Plastino and Sciorra 2016), is an interesting and revealing one in this regard. The Neapolitan mandolin marks two kinds of margin; one an Italy marginal to the mid to late 19th century global order, present in this order primarily as a supplier of labour and raw materials to the industrial world; the other a Naples marginal to Italy’s northern centre of political power. The Neapolitan canzone was, then, doubly exotic. Its ubiquity in 19th century Europe – it was so ubiquitous that Moore would adopt them in his Irish Melodies (and Chopin borrow them from Moore) with hardly a word of acknowledgment - had much to do with this doubled marginality. Its ubiquity was of course a matter of considerable embarrassment to Italy’s elites. As Prato puts it, in an essay in the same volume, Mussolini detested “mandolinists and posteggiatori and pizzaioli from Naples probably because, in his view, they were responsible for foreigners’ opinions that Italians were not a race but just a cowardly bunch (imbelle accozzagla) of people born to serve and 15 entertain” (Prato 2016). Within such a mind-set, Neapolitan song, painfully exposed to the outside world, evidenced cultural contamination, migration, poverty and the southern question. It spoke of a maudlin, nostalgic and self-absorbed emotionality that hardly communicated faith in historical progress or military supremacy. And more importantly, it was open to outside scrutiny, and open in a way that seemed to pander to peculiarly demeaning stereotypes.

The mandolin was inseparable from the global circulation of Neapolitan song, serving not just as a instrumental surrogate for or double of the voice, but as a visual icon. There was very little ‘Italian’, let alone ‘Neapolitan’ about it. It was, as much as anything, a product of the Paris Exposition Universelle of 1878. Here, as Goffredo Plastino shows, Parisian manufacturers developed an instrument on an Italian model, but with a deepened bowl, for added resonance, with steel strings, replacing the traditional gut strings, and a machine head to make it easier to tune. This instrument was popularized in Paris not by Italian musicians but by Spanish student ensembles – so called estudiantinas – whose sound was subsequently marketed as ‘Neapolitan’ (via sheet music, musical toys and piano rolls) by Italian entrepreneurs only after they had caught on in the Paris café chantants (Fabbri 2016). Many of these Italian entrepreneurs were Sefardi Jews, whose commercial networks spread “Neapolitan Song” to Athens and Smyrna in the final years of the Ottoman Empire, where it mingled with emerging popular song forms like kanto and rebetika. The mandolin became a household object across Europe and the Ottoman world during this period, attached to musical worlds sometimes connected, sometimes remote from Neapolitan Song – its use as a pedagogical device for teaching western art music in early 20th century Turkey and North Africa is an interesting case in point.

Άρθρο από το βιβλίο Neapolitan Postcards σχετικά με τις ελληνικές εστουδιαντίνες υπάρχει εδώ:

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Ποιό άρθρο, γιατί πάρακατω παραπέμπεις αλλού, σε άρθρο του Franco Fabbri.

ο οποίος λέει

So, the claim that estudiantinas were “invented” in Smyrna in 1898 and from there became world-famous (this notion is also suggested in the booklet accompanying the
Smyrna CD and in innumerable related Greek websites) is simply the result of ill-founded musical nationalism (see Sparks 1995, 25–27).

Εκτός από τον εθνικισμό υπάρχει και το καλόπιστο λάθος, η άγνοια.

Καλά οι ισπανοί δεν έπαιζαν τα δικά τους όργανα, bandurria, laud κλπ, έπαιζαν μαντολίνα; Και είμαστε πολύ σίγουροι ότι η μετάβαση του μαντολίνου από εντέρινες χορδές σε μεταλλικές γίνεται στο Παρίσι το 1878; Γιατί νομίζω ο Paul Sparks στο “The classical mandolin” λέει άλλα.

Pasquale Vinaccia was influenced by these alterations in violin, piano and guitar construction when he designed the modern Neapolitan mandolin in about 1835. He raised and extended the fingerboard, increasing the number of frets to seventeen and the mandolin’s upper limit to a’‘’. He deepened the bowl for greater resonance, strengthened the body, increased the size and weight of the whole instrument , and was then able to fit strings made from the new high-tension steel, the upper two courses pain, the lower two wound with copper. Machine heads, essential when tuning such sensitive strings, were also adopted.

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Εδώ είναι το άρθρο του Stokes:

Για τις υπόλοιπες ερωτήσεις πρέπει να ξανακοιτάξω τις παραπομπές. Βρήκα ένα άρθρο που επιβεβαιώνει αυτό που λες, δηλαδή ότι οι ισπανικές Estudiantinas είχαν τα δικά τους όργανα:

In Spain, estudiantinas (also known as tunas, rondallas, and liras) first appeared in the Renaissance era in the university setting, hence the name of the groups (estudiantes = students). It was not until the late nineteenth century, though, that the tradition spread outside of the country (see Christoforidis 2017). At the time, Spanish estudiantinas usually consisted of several laúd players (who realized the melody, often with tremolo technique), bandurria performers (who played in harmony with the laudes), and guitarists (who executed bass notes and occasional flourishes, and strummed chords), along with a smaller number of violinists, cellists, flutists, and/or other instrumentalists; some ensembles included pandereta (tambourine) and castanet players.1 Their repertoire, meanwhile, encompassed an array of traditional Spanish genres (e.g., jota, seguidilla, malagueña, pasodoble), internationally fashionable dances (e.g., waltz, habanera, mazurka), selections from popular operas and zarzuelas, and arrangements of orchestral pieces. The Renaissance-­‐inspired outfits that Spanish estudiantinas adopted as their performance attire in the nineteenth century constituted one of the most visually distinctive aspects of the ensembles (ibid.

Όπως φαίνεται από το άρθρο, οι Εστουδιαντίνας έγιναν πολύ δημοφιλείς και στην Λατινική Αμερική:

Εύα

Δεν ξέρω αν αυτή η διάλεξη έχει παρατεθεί:

Εύα

Βρήκα ενδιαφέρουσες πληροφορίες σ’ε ένα νήμα στο Mandolin Café, σχετικά με τη χρήση της μαντολίνας στις τοπικες Εστουδιαντίνες σε διάφορες χώρες:

Sorry if this is too long or rambly. I may have tried to address, too much.

Spanish Students:

A group of 15 bandurria, guitar and violin-playing Spaniards arrived in America in the beginning of January, 1880. In their homeland, they were known as “Estudiantina Española Fígaro.” In the U.S., they were billed as “The Spanish Students.”

These Spanish Students are legitimately credited with starting the mandolin craze in America, even though they played no mandolins. The instrumentation of these Spanish Students was bandurrias, guitars (perhaps bandolas), a violin, and a cello.

Their first American performances were in held early in January, in Boston and Providence. On Feb 3, 1880 the Spanish Students debuted in New York City. Their success prompted the formation of an imitator group.

Suggested by evidence that I found, it appears that a imposter “Spanish Students” ensemble began performing in public by mid-February.

The second “Spanish Students” were Italian immigrants who played mandolins and guitars instead of bandurrias. I have not found positive evidence about other “Spanish Student” imposter groups regarding what instruments they played. There apparently were several more ensembles that called themselves “the Spanish Students.”

Several of the original Italian “Spanish Students” mentioned above successfully parlayed their fraud into nice careers as musicians and music teachers.

After the Spaniards went home in 1881, they came back a few years later, with some different personnel for a Latin tour that included South America. This “Student” visit started an Estudiantina movement in several Western Hemisphere, Latin countries.

The names that Bruce mentioned, Fachutar, Valisi, and Colombo were all charter members of the Italian “Spanish Students.” Instruments Bohmann made for any of them was done well after their “Spanish Student” days. It is pretty clear that initially they all played mandolins that were brought to America from Italy.

Φαίνεται πως οι ντόπιοι μουσικοί προτίμησαν το ήδη γνωστό τους μαντολίνο αντί για το ισπανικό όργανο, στην Αμερική και στην Ελλάδα/Μικρά Ασία. Το μαντολίνο επίσης υπήρχε στις Πορτογαλλικές Εστουδιαντίνες. Εδώ είναι το κανάλι της Estudiantina/Tuna του πανεπιστήμιο της πόλης Coimbra:

https://www.youtube.com/@euc884

Εύα

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