Under the bridge

It appears that, in addition to classical music and jazz, the Budapest Music Center has now taken root in the Tango - not in the kind that people dance to, but in the kind that, as Piazzolla puts it, is intended not for the feet but for the ear. Of course Piazzolla and his “New Tango” could not in any case be forgotten or ignored since it served as an inspiration for János Másik's tango, embedded in rock'n'roll (a másik, BMC 005), for the Piazzolla rearrangements of the Okoun Ensemble from Salzburg (Oblivion, BMC 045), and now for the debut album of David Yengibarjan, currently living in Budapest. “When I first heard it (Piazzolla's music),” says David, “it had this extraordinary effect on me, I got goose-pimples, it was if I were watching a film, or reading Dante's Divine Comedy. It was an experience I can't begin to describe.” 

We shall return to Piazzolla, but first let us see what we should know about David Yengibarjan.

First and foremost, that he was seventeen years old when he decided to leave Yerevan.

“I met up with a jazz pianist in a music shop, and we both decided that we were going to work in Germany. But my parents were so anxious about me that in the end I stayed. But the hankering was still there and it spurred me to learn to play jazz on the accordion. When I was younger I spent a lot of time listening to the music of Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Oscar Peterson, Paco de Lucia, and found jazz very exciting, but in Yerevan you could only study classical and folk music. Then two years later my parents said that if I still felt that I had to leave, I should join my brother, who was already living in Budapest. That was how I came here on the 16th of July 1995.” 

He moved into the huge, dusty sculptor's studio where his brother was living. He collected scores, attended courses at the jazz department at Pomáz and the Music Academy in Budapest. At this time he came into contact chiefly with jazz musicians, the tango had not yet come into the picture.

Two or three years had to pass, and he had to make the acquaintance of Péter Halász from the theatre world before the tango entered his life. It was Halász who introduced him to the music of Piazzolla, who “opened a new door” as David puts it. The next impetus came from trumpet-player Mari Balogh, whom he met on Halász' birthday, in the salad bar where he played for peanuts once or twice a week. Mari suggested that they play together, then put on a Piazzolla album as they began to rehears. “I've been searching for those tunes ever since,” says David.
“Was it the sadness of the music that touched you?” 
“The kind of sadness which is not without hope. In which jealousy, rapture and anger are all present together. In this type of music, special stress is laid on love, and this has proven a great source of inspiration.”
“The joy of togetherness you mean, or rather the fear of loss: jealousy, solitude?”
“Each has its own role, but hopefully from now on it is not primarily sadness and solitude that are going to inspire me. I am in love, and this feeling has given birth to many new melodies.”
“What else do you draw your inspiration from? Homesickness…?” 
“Yes, I do get these sudden attacks of homesickness. They come and they go. But when I play, it somehow eases the pain.”
“How often do you go home?“” “I haven't been back since I left.” 
“Is it that you're not able to go back, or is it that you don't want to?” 
“I could and do want to return, it's time I did. But right now I am very busy, there's a lot of work to be done, besides the album and arranging concerts I am playing at the Academy of Dramatic and Cinematic art. Andor Lukáts is directing Ferenc Molnár's Liliom, to which I wrote the music.” “Do you ever feel that you have lost your roots, that you do not belong?”
“My childhood friends are all far away. But I have met many musicians with whom I keep in close touch, I have made new friends. And when I think of how much I have achieved so far, it provides solace whenever I feel uprooted.” 
“What have you achieved so far?”
“I've got closer to jazz, I've learned standards, I have my own group, my compositions, I have plans, soon I'll have my own album. I have performed three times at the opera house, I have played with Ferenc Snétberger at the Academy of Music, I've been invited to several festivals. As an Armenian writer once put it, it takes one percent talent, ninety-nine percent hard work. I hold myself to that. Art is like a woman whom you must court till the end of your life. If I let one day pass without practising, music will evade me.” 

This exchange of words took place in March 2001 in a pub in the city centre, before the concert of the Trio Yengibarjan. A pub of this type, where people come to drink and to have a noisy good time, is not the luckiest choise of venue for the trio, from whom a more intimate atmosphere would be preferable, but in between theatrical, film or concert hall appearences, a new group cannot afford to let an opportunity to be in the public eye slip by. Not to mention that the tango started out from bordellos and nightclubs in its birthplace in Argentina - and look where it got to: to Piazzolla.

In the beginning, from the end of the last century to the 1920s, the tango counted as the plebeian dance music of the immigrants from Italy and Spain: it helped to alleviate the misery of the workers, the homesickness of the immigrants; this sensous music made them feel more manly, irresistible and strong. Then, when the bordellos were closed, the tango moved to the cafés, cabarets and theatres, where, though it continued to serve as dance music, its audience was no longer working but middle class, and the focus shifted to the lyrics and the soloist. This was the golden age of the tango, during which dozens of charismatic performers rose to stardom - among them Carlos Gardel, who became a celebrated film star before dying in a plane crash in 1935, not long after inviting the then thirteen-year-old Astor Piazzolla to participate in the making of the music for his film entitled El dia que me quieras.

Piazzolla was born in Mar del Plata in 1921, but he was raised in the Bronx. He moved back to Argentina in 1937, then settled in Buenos Aires, where he became the second bandeonist of Anibal Troilo's Tango band. In 1940 he showed one of his own compositions to Arthur Rubinstein, then touring Buenos Aires, who intrduced him to Alberto Ginastera. Piazzolla studied under Ginastera for six years, was initiated into the world of contemporary music, and during this period composed dozens of symphonies, concertos, sonatas and chamber music pieces, completely distancing himself from the world of the Tango. So much so that when in 1954 he received a scholarship to study under Nadia Boulanger, he was at first ashamed to reveal that he had started his career as a bandeonist playing tango in cabarets.

Piazzolla had a lot to thank Nadia Boulanger for. It was at her instigation that he “forgot” Stravinsky, Bartók and Ravel and rediscovered himself: Piazzolla the tango composer. And with the founding of the Quinteto Nuevo Tango in Buenos Aires in 1960, the “New Tango” was born. With this, the Golden Age of the Tango ended; the message of the “New Tango” was very different. It did not serve to ease, to help forget, but intensified, emphasized the pain.

Though Piazzolla was forced to flee to Paris from the junta that reigned between 1976-1982, even Buenos Aires had to give in in the end. In 1985, when he was ranked among the most well-known performers and composers the world over, the city awarded him the title of honorary citizen. Until his death in 1992, he recorded over 40 albums, working with Jorge Louis Borges, Jeanne Moreau, Garry Mulligan and the Kronos Quartet, leaving his mark on many genres of music. He considered the album Tango:Zero Hour his best, evoking that dramatic moment when the absolute end and the absolute beginning coincide; but La Muerte del Ángel, Luna, The Vienna Concert, the Concerto Para Bandoneon / Tres Tangos and Five Tango Sensations (together with the Kronos Quartet) are all equally powerful and relentless.

Yengibarjan gave Piazzolla's instrument, the bandoneon, a try, but gave it up as the construction of the two instruments are very different. And, though Ferenc Snétberger had originally intended to use a bandoneonist for the music of the film Holstein Lovers, when he heard David play his accordion, he did not search further.

It was during the recording of this film music that David got to know bass-player József Barcza Horváth, and asked him to join his group. And it was Barcza who brought guitarist Gábor Juhász into the group. “I did not want the guitar and bass as accompaniment, what I wanted was to have the sound of the three instruments fuse”, says David.
“Did you originally plan on having theese three instruments in the group?” 
“No. I originally planned to have a saxophone, percussion and the accordion.”
“And do you consider this set-up as final, or do you think it is a stage?”
“I would like to continue playing with these musicians, but I'm thinking of adding a piano, or a violin. It is a stage, yes.”

In this stage, the Trio Yengibarjan plays nine pieces: five of David's own compositions, three Astor Piazzolla pieces, and an Armenian folk song arrengement. The listener may not be able to tell which is which, but that is as it should be. The “Tango passion” manifests itself with equal intensity and sensitivity in all pieces; to cite David's words, it is like “a woman's cry, or like the breaking of a glass, or walking under a bridge by yourself.” And the source of this passion, for David as well as for the Tango, is Astor Piazzolla.

László Marton Távolodó
English translation: Eszter Molnár

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David Yengibarjan (1976, Yerevan)

Though he has been living in Hungary only since 1995, he is one of the most well-known and sought-after accordionists. He has participated in a great number of theatrical and film productions both as a performer (Bertolt Brecht: Jungle of the Cities, Andor Lukáts: Portugal, Joye Sergent: Crime and Punishment) and as a composer (Ferenc Molnár: Liliom, András Szőke: Three, György Farkas: Blood Line, András Fésős: Street Heart Beat).
His recognition in Hungary has been accompanied by requests and invitations to perform abroad; he has played in Paris, London, Amsterdam, Vienna, and Edinburgh. He founded his own group, the Trio Yengibarjan, in 1999, after recording the film music of Holstein Lovers (which has a tango theme) with Ferenc Snétberger and József Barcza Horváth. His aspiration is to create a fusion of the Argentinian tango, the “New Tango” of Astor Piazzolla, and various types of folk music.


Gábor Juhász (1968, Budapest)

Began playing music - the tamboura, the mandolin and later the guitar - at the age of four. His passion for the guitar and jazz music led him to the Ferenc Liszt Academy of Music, where he was a pupil of Gyula Babos. With Károly Binder, teacher of piano at the Academy, they formed the Pangea Group, open to all kinds of folk music.
It is from this group that the still active Tin-Tin Quartet evolves, in which Gábor Juhász currently plays with Szabolcs Szőke, András Monori and Iván Nyusztay. In Zoltán Lantos' Mirrorworld Quartet, gratify his deep interest in the music of India, and he plays jazz in Off Course, Bosambo, the Elemér Balázs Quintet, and in Márta Téli's group.


József Barcza Horváth (1974, Budapest)

Studied at the Béla Bartók Conservatory of Music, subsequently at the Ferenc Liszt Teachers' Training College of Music. Won the title of "best bass-player" at the Jazz Juniors Competition in Krakow in 1995; in 1997 won secon place at the International Bass-player's Competition in Debrecen. Between 1995-97 he was a member of the Gustav Mahler Youth Symphony Orchestra led by Claudio Abbado, then played with the Budapest Festival Orchestra for a year.
Since his high-school years he has taken an active part in Hungarian jazz life, and has participated on the albums and at the concerts of such famous artists as Kirk Lightsey, Benny Bailey, Tony Lakatos, Rick Margitza, Márta Téli, Gábor Gadó and the group Off Course.