Nurtured by its feminine roots, tango flourishes

Los Angeles TImes

Argentine singer Sandra Luna is a hard-core tanguero's delight. Her voice — strong, passionate, manly — represents the genre's macho bravado in all its splendor.

"I'm not really into the concept of tango disguised as a woman," she says in the lobby of a Hollywood hotel. Dressed in an elegant beige outfit with strikingly pointy black shoes, Luna talks about her album "Tango Varón" (Male Tango) in the typically staccato, aggressive-sounding Spanish of the Buenos Aires barrios. "You don't need to become all feminine just because you happen to be a female who sings tango. I'm drawn into what I call the real thing — the visceral tango."

Today Luna stands at the epicenter of a widespread revival that has brought new life to the quintessential Argentine song style. Electronic-music collectives such as Gotan Project and the Bajofondo Tango Club have made tango hip again, while a new generation of performers is breathing life into a movement that appeared moribund not so long ago.

From the gutsy style of Luna to the androgynous presence of Adriana Varela, the technically seamless vocal prowess of María Graña and the jazzy undertones of María Volonté, women are at the core of this revival.

Luna's life seems to have been inextricably linked to the spirit of tango from the day she was born 39 years ago in the working-class Buenos Aires neighborhood of Villa Insuperable.

She began singing professionally at 7, making frequent radio and television appearances against the wishes of her father. Four years later, legendary bandleader Héctor Varela hired her to perform with his orchestra at the seedy tango joint Mi Club. She was too young to be allowed into the club, but the local chief of police issued her a special permit after the 11-year-old Luna told him all about her professional aspirations.

Her reputation as a cantora grew, and eventually she was given protection by members of the neighborhood's dangerous soccer gangs, who would routinely escort her home from the bus stop on the nearby General Paz freeway.

Now she's at the forefront of tango's resurgence.

"It's not a nostalgic movement anymore," says Volonté, speaking from her home in Buenos Aires. "There's a wave of intense experimentation, of opening new paths. Tango is very much a modern art form these days."

Volonté is a good example of an artist who is respectful of her roots yet not afraid to go beyond musty old formulas.

When she's not on tour, the singer can be found performing every Thursday evening at Café Tortoni, one of the most venerable live music establishments in Buenos Aires.

But Volonté is no purist. Her musical concept is refreshingly broad, incorporating pop balladry, touches of jazz and Brazilian formats such as choro and bossa nova.

"Not too long ago, the stuff that I do was looked at with a raised eyebrow by the tango establishment," she points out. "Now those same innovations are cherished and defended."

A special place for women

Tango may have a reputation for being one of the most macho genres in Latin music, but the female voice has occupied a place of honor in it since its inception.

Born at the turn of the 20th century in the bars and brothels of Buenos Aires, tango expressed the nostalgia of the European immigrants who had recently arrived to South America looking for a new future.

"Women were central to this aesthetic from the very beginning," explains Volonté. "It took a special kind of woman, strong and passionate, to survive as a performer in those intense times."

Tango's most unusual female performer may very well be Tita Merello, who died in 2002 at the age of 98.

Think of Merello as the original Latin rapper, a humorous performer who would sometimes recite her lyrics instead of singing them, mimicking the accents and idiosyncrasies of the characters in her songs. On her many recordings, which are available as imports, Merello can make you laugh with her hilarious observations on working-class life in Argentina, then break your heart with her uncanny ability to evoke bottomless pain and regret.

"She brought an actor's flair to tango," says Norberto Vogel, a pianist and bandoneón player who has accompanied singers such as Volonté and Susana Rinaldi. "She recorded all these anti-macho songs that are really funny. One of the genre's first feminists, if you wish. And she definitely did not have a melodious voice. She supports the theory that tango is not meant to be sung, but rather tell a memorable story."

"I wouldn't dare cover any of Tita's songs," admits Luna. "She put her stamp on those tunes. Her style was just too strong and perfect for them."

The style spectrum

The tango scene is particularly fragmented these days, which results in the more idiosyncratic artists such as Varela being criticized by their more conservative peers — even though it was her husky voice that achieved the greatest popularity in the '90s.

"I can't really think of Varela as a singer," says Luna. "She's more of a performer to me. Tango is not just a street genre — there's also an academic side to it. If you want to sing it the way it's supposed to be done, you have to study."

Whether a purist like Luna is more valuable to contemporary tango than an unconventional talent like Varela remains to be seen. Both artists underscore the contribution of women to the genre.

"If there's one element that unites all of these new singers, it's their strong connection to their own emotional lives," concludes Volonté. "There's a side to tango that's deeply feminine. It evokes the joy of surrendering yourself to romantic passion." 05/29/05

It takes one to tango when Luna is singing

Portland Press Herald, It takes one to tango when Luna is singing >>

She was a long way from Buenos Aires, but singer Sandra Luna had an appreciative audience (feeling some of the heat and passion of the Argentine tango on a cold night in Portland.

Employing a very expressive style of deliveiy, the auburn-haired vocalist gestured boldly as she prowled the stage of the Center for Cultural Exchange. The wide tonal and dynamic range of her voice was given impressive display in a concert that lasted barely an hour but nonetheless provided a satisfying glimpse into a form of sung tango that Luna has helped to keep alive.

Many of the songs the 30-something singer offered came from her Grammy-nominated disc called "Tango Varon." Though they were sung in Spanish, it was not difficult for the non-Spanish speaking members of the crowd to get an idea that the subjects were love-and longing, hope and despairs

Clad in a diaphanous black pants outfit, Luna would bring things down to a whisper or shout out to the rafters as she pleaded her musical case or declared its triumphant resolution. There was theatricality aplenty in her performing style, but it seemed fueled by a genuine respect for the music.

"Milonga Triste (Sad Tale)" was a highlight, with its gently repeated rhythm seeming to barely hold up the spirits of the heartbroken character of the lyr ics, perfectly embodied by Luna.

Luna, who grew up on city streets and sang in bars at an early age, showed particular passion in introducing (in halting English) "Carritos Cartoneros." She outlined how a "bad government" in her homeland in the 1990s had led to the phenomena of homeless children who collect cardboard to sell for enough cash to make it through the day. Her delivery of the song was fiery, forthright and strikingly intense.

"Me Maman Luna (They Call Me Moon)" had obvious autobiographical significance for the singer and was another piece sung with particular feeling.

An instrumental piece composed by bandeonist Daniel Ruggiero provided a break for the singer who made her way to the rear of the hall to listen with the crowd. Reminiscent of music by the well-known tango master Astor Piazzola, the piece succeeded best when featuring cellist Daniel Pucci (Luna's husband). The warm low tones of the stringed instrument suited the music's earthy quality well Ezequiel Mantega's electronic key board work, though occasionally effective, suffered a bit from the instrument's tendency to produce a brittle texture.

Luna closed the show with the spirited title tune from her CD. It's ultimately an optimistic ode to the continuing power of the tango, and Sandra Luna certainly did her part on Thursday night to carry on a musical tradition that movingly traverses the distance between sorrow and joy.

-Steve Feeney 02/26/05

Maine Today

Maine Today, Review >>


She was a long way from Buenos Aires, but singer Sandra Luna had an appreciative audience feeling some of the heat and passion of the Argentine tango on a cold night in Portland.

Employing a very expressive style of delivery, the auburn-haired vocalist gestured boldly as she prowled the stage of the Center for Cultural Exchange. The wide tonal and dynamic range of her voice was given impressive display in a concert that lasted barely an hour but nonetheless provided a satisfying glimpse into a form of sung tango that Luna has helped to keep alive.

Many of the songs the 30-something singer offered came from her Grammy-nominated disc called "Tango Varon." Though they were sung in Spanish, it was not difficult for the non-Spanish speaking members of the crowd to get an idea that the subjects were love and longing, hope and despair.

Clad in a diaphanous black pants outfit, Luna would bring things down to a whisper or shout out to the rafters as she pleaded her musical case or declared its triumphant resolution. There was theatricality aplenty in her performing style, but it seemed fueled by a genuine respect for the music.

"Milonga Triste (Sad Tale)" was a highlight, with its gently repeated rhythm seeming to barely hold up the spirits of the heartbroken character of the lyrics, perfectly embodied by Luna.

Luna, who grew up on city streets and sang in bars at an early age, showed particular passion in introducing (in halting English) "Carritos Cartoneros." She outlined how a "bad government" in her homeland in the 1990s had led to the phenomena of homeless children who collect cardboard to sell for enough cash to make it through the day. Her delivery of the song was fiery, forthright and strikingly intense.

"Me Llaman Luna (They Call Me Moon)" had obvious autobiographical significance for the singer and was another piece sung with particular feeling.

An instrumental piece composed by bandeonist Daniel Ruggiero provided a break for the singer who made her way to the rear of the hall to listen with the crowd. Reminiscent of music by the well-known tango master Astor Piazzola, the piece succeeded best when featuring cellist Daniel Pucci (Luna's husband). The warm low tones of the stringed instrument suited the music's earthy quality well. Ezequiel Mantega's electronic keyboard work, though occasionally effective, suffered a bit from the instrument's tendency to produce a brittle texture.

Luna closed the show with the spirited title tune from her CD. It's ultimately an optimistic ode to the continuing power of the tango, and Sandra Luna certainly did her part on Thursday night to carry on a musical tradition that movingly traverses the distance between sorrow and joy.

-Steve Feeney

02/26/05

Tango star will perform

Sun Journal, Tango star will perform >>

Sandra Luna, a 2004 Grammy nominee in the Best Traditional World Music album category, is at the forefront of the revival of tango-cancion (sung tango). She will perform at 7:30 p.m. Thursday, Feb. 24, at the Center for Cultural Exchange. Her repertoire features re-energized versions of tango classics, along with new tango compositions that tell the tale- of contemporary life in Buenos Aires.

Tango, known to be provocative and flashy, was born in the early 1900s in the bars and brothels of Buenos Ai res, where men outnumbered women by 100,000. The passion of music and dance has rarely been more indicative of a social climate than that of Argentina's tango. In recent years, a few women have flipped the traditional gender roles of tango, putting a strong female voice at the fore of the style. "With her strong personably modern voice, she (Luna) redefines the genre and makes a marked gender shift," wrote Jan Fairly in a recent issue of the United Kingdom's Songlines magazine. 02/19/05

No es el tango de los abuelos

La Opinoin, No es el tango de los abuelos >>

Nacida como una Montoya, pero conocida —y reconocida— por un nombre artístico que le fue impuesto a los 7 años de edad, cuando los encargados de la radioemisora radial donde se presentó por primera vez consideraron que su apellido real sonaba muy gitano, Sandra Luna viene cantando ante el público desde hace tres décadas, aunque la mezquindad de la industria discográfica la obligara a desarrollar su carrera sin editar producción alguna hasta el año 2000.
“Tuve ofertas de varias compañías, pero las condiciones que me daban eran tan malas que preferí desligarme de ellas durante mucho tiempo”, dijo la excelente vocalista porteña a La Opinión hace unos días, luego de ofrecer un concierto en el club Echo de Los Angeles, donde se presentó acompañada por un trío tradicional de piano, bandoneón y violonchelo, haciendo gala de una voz impresionante en el registro y desbordante en la pasión.

“El disco editado hace cuatro años sólo tuvo difusión en mi país; en cambio, el nuevo —que se llama Tango varón— ha contado al fin con una distribución internacional gracias a World Connection, una empresa holandesa que me hizo una oferta interesante y logró que firmara un contrato por primera vez en toda mi trayectoria. Lo positivo es que esta compañía vio en mí a la cantante, no a un rubro musical determinado; es que no es bueno encasillarse”.

De todos modos, Luna es muy consciente de que el título mismo de su nuevo trabajo indica su pertenencia a un género muy específico, aunque algunas de las composiciones incluidas no respondan siempre a los moldes tradicionales.

“Lo que hago esencialmente es música urbana”, sigue la artista. “El tango de Carlos Gardel tenía un ritmo diferente, pero hay que tomar en cuenta que la música popular argentina tiene muchas variaciones. Lo que sí es cierto es que, a diferencia de otras cantantes, hago tango de verdad. El gobierno militar [de los 70 y principios de los 80] censuró las letras que eran reales y reflejaban el dolor de la gente; después de eso, sólo se podían escuchar las canciones de amor o de desamor, y el tango no es sólo eso, porque nació como una herramienta de protesta social”.

“Cuando no tenía ni siquiera una forma rítmica definida, ya se quejaba de los gobernantes, pero la globalización hizo que entraran otras músicas al mercado, y es sabido que a través de la historia los gobiernos argentinos se han dejado comprar”.

En lo que respecta al título de la placa, Sandra Luna —que por cierto luce encantadoramente femenina— asegura que, a pesar de sentirse convencida de su identidad sexual y de mostrarla claramente en sus apasionadas interpretaciones, cataloga su tango de “varón” porque “para hacer este género como se debe, necesitás tener ovarios, como se los llama en la mujer. Normalmente se asocia la fuerza al hombre y la parte débil a la mujer, pero nosotras sabemos que eso es un absurdo total, que las mujeres somos varón y mujer todo el tiempo. Hay muchos hombres que no son tan hombres y no porque sean gay; me refiero a la parte interna, a la de ser cobardes o no poner lo que hay que poner”.

“En mi repertorio hay tangos compuestos tanto por hombres como por mujeres porque no es cuestión de separar, sino de cómo decir las cosas, de cómo afrontar la vida, de cómo disponer de ella y de la música”.

Sandra no rechaza la tradición —de hecho, su disco incluye algunas composiciones de autores clásicos, entre los que se encuentran Astor Piazzolla y Enrique Santos Discépolo—, pero quiere darle amplia cabida a las plumas nuevas, por lo que la mayor parte de su repertorio está conformado por piezas recientes.

“Hay ortodoxos que no aceptan lo nuevo, que creen que todo se quedó en el pasado; pero el tango es del pueblo y tiene que crecer con él, cambiando, modificándose y contando todo lo que sucede alrededor”, enfatiza, sin que la contundencia de sus declaraciones la obligue a alzar la voz.

“Amo a los abuelos, pero dejo vivir a los nietos, y es que en la vida hay todo tipo de encuentros, no sólo amorosos; por ejemplo, tengo una canción llamada Carritos cartoneros que habla de los nuevos habitantes de Buenos Aires, esos indigentes que viven en las calles, que nunca estuvieron antes en mi país y que aparecieron en la última década como consecuencia de una crisis que de pronto hizo que nos diéramos cuenta de que no éramos tan parte del Primer Mundo como nos habían contado”.

El tango surgió en Argentina mediante una fusión de estilos realizada por los inmigrantes europeos —básicamente italianos—, y como buena exponente del género, Luna forma parte de dicha cultura.

“Me crié en uno de esos barrios de inmigrantes y, aunque mi familia no era de tangueros, siempre estuve expuesta a esta música”, recuerda la artista, para pasar luego a explicar las razones que la han convertido en una intérprete tan notable.

“Desde pequeña estuve metida en esto, porque siempre supe que iba a ser cantante, y nunca se me ocurrió hacer otra cosa. Estudié en el conservatorio y llevé clases de canto, pero aunque tengo bastante técnica, ésta no debe superar nunca al sentimiento. Las dos cosas deben estar niveladas”.

Aunque sus palabras delatan el compromiso que siente con su arte y su sociedad, ella no es compositora, lo que según sus declaraciones se debe a que “no sé cómo reducir todo lo que tengo en la cabeza en sólo tres minutos, pero siempre estoy en comunicación con los compositores que trabajan conmigo para darles ideas o conceptos. Soy intérprete y, como dicen mis compañeros, la que hace parir los temas. El tango es como un gran álbum de fotos donde no puedes prescindir de nada, porque todo, hasta los seres que no conoces, formaron parte de la vida de quienes amaste”.

07/31/04

Sandra Luna "Tango Varón" (times square)

Boston Globe, CD Review

Enough recent tango albums have become so digitized and remixed that it's easy to forget what the real deal sounds like. One could easily argue that Astor Piazzolla's classics shouldn't twitch and bleep like a robot gone haywire. On "Tango Varon,'' singer Sandra Luna revives the traditional strain of the Argentine art form, more specifically the subgenre called "tango-cancion'' (literally "sung tango''). In Luna's able hands, tango isn't just for dancing; it's for beholding. The title track, which means "Male Tango,'' opens the album on a bold note, though it's a curious choice for the album's name. Granted, tango singers have long been associated with macho males cast from the Carlos Gardel mold, but one of the genre's greatest interpreters, the late Libertad Lamarque, was a female. That said, there's no confusing Lamarque's chirp with Luna's bellow. Her voice is a marvel of Broadway-bound bravado and just enough force to compete with the dramatic orchestrations. Luna's definition of a tango is contemporary enough to envelop the percussion-driven ``Me Llaman Luna,'' and we're all the luckier for it. "Que Nadie Sepa Mi Sufrir'' is an infectious jaunt through bandoneon solos, strumming guitars, and, best of all, Luna's vocals, which tiptoe around the notes as though she were dancing a complex tango. 07/16/04 >> go there

Concert Preview

Broadway New York, Concert Preview >>

Making her US debut, Sandra Luna updates tango-cancion "spectaculary...with all the strutting no-holds barred emotionalism you'd expect of an old-fashioned Latin Diva." On her international debut - Tango Varon - Luna turns her ear to the future while keeping one foot firmly in the tango's colorful past as she expands the music, normally associated with dancing, to a broader more expansive song form with reworked and reenergized versions of classics from legends like Astor Piazzolla, to newly created compositions that tell the tale of modern life in Buenos Aires. Unafraid to challenge head on the proud, machismo assumption often at the core of tango's image, Luna's insistent performance injects her music with the unique passion of a confident woman.

Thursday, July 15, 2004
Public Theatre/Joe's Pub
425 Lafayette Street

Global Hits

PRI's "The World", Global Hits

Tango has traditionally been a masculine musical form. Sandra Luna gives a nod to that past in the title track to her first international release, "Tango Varon," or "Male Tango." The song tells the mythic tale of the birth of the tango.

38-year-old Sandra Luna was infused with the tango ethos early on. Luna grew up in one of tango's traditional strongholds, the stockyard and slaughterhouse district of Buenos Aires.

Luna says she sang nearly non-stop throughout her childhood, singing in church, in school, and at home. By the time she was 11, Luna was also singing in local tango clubs. And her following grew. By her 12th birthday, Luna was a regular weekend performer at the premier tango clubs in Buenos Aires.

Luna was also developing an early passion for such "tango classics" as Cancion Desesperada. Luna sings tangos in the traditional style. Her songs tell stories about passion, lost love, and unrequited love.

Tango has been described as a "vertical expression of horizontal desire." Luna says tango is "a feeling that's so clear and pure. If you haven't met it, it will wait for you. But after you meet it," she says, "you'll need it."

Sandra Luna is enjoying the release of "Tango Varon," and the resurgence of tango not only in Argentina, but world-wide. Luna will be performing songs from "Tango Varon" later this week in New York, Florida and California.

For The World, this is Katy Clark.
07/12/04

Plain Dealer, CD Review

On the dance floor, tango is dominated by the macho male who manipulates his partner through steamy moves. Tango songs, like the dance, frequently express male supremacy. But there is a place for women in the passionate music that was born more than 100 years ago in the bars and brothels of Buenos Aires, Argentina. Luna, who grew up performing in tango bars, defies tradition in the title song, which speaks of the birth of male tango. Other lyrics tell violent stories, paint portraits of male characters and mourn for a lost female love. Luna's earthy voice throbs with raw emotion. Her interpretations, like those of a Portuguese fado singer, smolder with intensity. Her accompanying musicians provide a variety of tone colors on bandoneon, piano, guitar, violin, cello and double bass, and they effectively mix tango rhythms with jazz licks. The singer, though named for the moon, is the star of the album. A. 07/04/04

All Music.com, CD Review

Far from the cheesy sound of much tango, Sandra Luna introduces real passion and heartbreak into the music, revitalizing a genre that — apart from Astor Piazzolla's new tango — has seemed moribund for too long. It's a bravura vocal display, to be sure, but the support, especially from the string section, with excellent arrangements, frames her perfectly, giving a brave dignity to the music. She's at her best on the slower material such as "Lejana Tierra Mía" or "Duella Criollo" (with its superb guitar accompaniment), where the tango takes on the emotional depth of Portuguese fado and Luna truly shines. She transmits sadness perfectly, in small vocal gestures that go directly to the soul. For the most part she steers clear of the traditional bandoneon (except for the lovely "Ché Bandoneón," where instrument and voice play off each other to wonderful effect) for a fuller sound that suits her well. Luna might just prove to be the figure to propel tango into the new century, and to bring it, reenergized and soulful, into the mainstream of world music. That she's a star is beyond doubt, and in her hands the music sparkles.

07/01/04 >> go there

A Lifetime of Tango: Sandra Luna

Global Rhythm, A Lifetime of Tango: Sandra Luna

“Music and Words, like two fallen in love, flow from the lips of the singer."

"Tango is a feeling that is so clear and pure," said Argentina's Sandra Luna. "If you haven't met it, it will wait for you. But, after you meet it, you'll need it."

Singing with some of the best contemporary artists in the genre, including Edmundo Rivero and Hector Varela, the 38 year-old Buenos Aires-born songstress has been breathing new life into the music of her homeland ever since she began performing at the age of 11.

Luna's recently released solo debut, Tango Varon (World Connection), which translates roughly to "powerful tango" or "male tango," is a pas­sionate amalgam of French chanson, American jazz vocalizing and Argentinean tango influences. Her vocals are crisp and bracing here, but she can also summon up a rough, raspy edge when the material requires it. Luna's versions of such classic tangos as "Ché Bandoneón" and "Canción Desesperada" reveal her as an artist that takes the tango canción artform seriously-and one capable of taking it back to its roots. Other, original material, such as the title track, demonstrates her skill at blending other influences with tradition-rooted tango.


The album's distinct flavor was the product of the dedicated produc­tion team that Luna assembled. Driven by the talents of producer Serge Glanzberg-the son of Norbert Glanzberg, pianist for Edith Piaf, Yves Montand and Charles Trent-Tango Varon echoes with the experience he brought to working with the likes of Manu Dibango, the Rolling Stones' Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood, and Mick Jones of the Clash. Working on this project with executive producers Gustavo Pazos and Eric van Santen and sound technician Jorge Da Silva, however, Glanzberg revealed a mas­tery of the tango, inspiring Luna to reach for new heights. "We formed a great team," she said. "We worked very seriously and hard. I think that with the cooperation and professionalism of everybody we made it a success."



It's a success that took a lifetime to shape. Raised in the Buenos Aires stockyard and slaughterhouse district of Mataderos, one of tango's traditional strongholds, Luna remembers being drawn to music early. "My first memory is when I was two," she said, "and I heard the voice of a woman who was playing the piano. She became my first music teacher later on."



Throughout her childhood, Luna sang nearly nonstop. "I sang in church, school and at home," she recalled, "also for those who'd ask me to sing at a certain place or simply on the street, for the people who lived in my neighborhood. Sometimes I would sing in my grandfather's grocery store. There was always a customer asking me to sing."



By the age of seven, Luna yearned to be a professional singer. With her parents' encouragement, she began to haunt the tango clubs of the Argentinean capital. "I asked my parents if I could go to the place where people sang tangos," she remembered. "Of course I didn't go to listen only. I asked the one in charge if I could sing as well. He gave me a serious and surprised look and asked me, 'Tango?"'



As it turned out, Luna chose a good night to make her stage debut. "Members of the Radio Argentina Council were present," she said, "and they booked me to sing on the radio and in all the shows they organized throughout the country. Since that day I haven't stopped working."



Luna's rise to stardom came swiftly. She became a regular weekend performer at Buenos Aires' premier tango club, Boliche de Rotundo, before her twelfth birthday. "It was an important place," she said. "It was some­thing to be proud of if you were booked there, because one of the owners was a well-known tango conductor at the time. It was a wonderful experi­ence. I remember that I sang the tango `Nostalgias' with bandoneonist Pocho Corsaro, who accompanied me."



Around the same time, Luna began performing at La Casa de Carlos Gardel, owned by tango superstar Carlos "El Zoral" Gardel. "I met Sexteto Mayor there," she said. "We worked together Thursdays to Saturdays." Luna continued to attract attention. Among the many that were awed by her singing was Hector Varela, bandoneonist of Juan D'Arienzo's influ­ential 1940s orchestra. When Varela heard her at Boliche de Rotundo, he was so impressed that he quickly invited her to join his group. "It was fan­tastic!" Luna said. "People said that it was the orchestra of the young because it attracted a young audience. Varela was one of the tangueros who sold the most records."



Luna's musical growth was further expanded after meeting tango master Robert Grela, one of the major instrumentalists on Argentinean tel­evision. "He was a great and wise person," she recalled. "He taught me to sing, to say what I felt and that each word has enormous meaning. I learned from him that music and words, like two fallen in love, flow from the lips of the singer. I feel privileged to have known him and to have been accompanied by his guitar. I can only thank him and those many other musical fathers who brought me up and formed me."



With the international release of Tango Varon, Luna is already envi­sioning her next recording. "The next album is slowly being drawn or sketched," she said. "We've been performing some of the new repertoire since the beginning of the year. "But I want to make one thing clear," she makes sure to point out. "Everything you hear from me when I sing is done with real feeling. That is what I gave in Tango Varon and that's what I will give in future albums and all other future work."



Craig Harris, GLOBAL RHYTHM.JULY 2004

BBC, CD Review

Gradually, tango is being revamped from just about every angle. There's no artist with quite the iconoclastic verve of Astor Piazzolla around, but from electronica experiments through to modern ballet, Argentina's urban folk music is strong and strident again.

The best contemporary female vox title has been held for some time by Adriana Varela, a gutsy, tobacco-voiced singer from Palermo in central Buenos Aires. She sprang to fame in the early 90s after learning her trade fast-track with composer and lyricist Enrique Cadícamo and singer Roberto Goyeneche. Now, entering as challenger, comes Sandra Luna, from the same city, but with her roots on the city's margins and with a background of many years performing live - often with giants of the genre such as Edmundo Rivero and Héctor Varela - before making Tango Varon, her international debut.

Luna's got a voice that recalls the classic female singers of the 40s - a crisp, nearly flute-like timbre at times, rather like Nelly Omar (who Luna admires) - though with occasionally raunchier, rougher edges and the range to push the songs into darker corners. Perhaps her liking for French chanson - and especially Edith Piaf - figures here, but whatever the source, Luna's versions of famous tango songs like "Ché Bandoneón", "Lejana Tierra Mía" and "Canción Desesperada", feel modern, felt rather than studied, and very much her own. Her goal is clearly to use tangos as they were born to be used - to tell stories, with a melancholy lilt and bags of passion.

As well as classics that reappear on compilations by scores of famous, dead artists, there are lesser-known and totally new songs here. The title track, by Edgardo Acuna, tells in mythic fashion the story of tango's birth as a 'tango varón' or proud, strutting 'male tango' - though given a strong injection of female passion by Luna. At the other end of the emotional spectrum is "Carritos Cartoneros", a song about the cardboard-gatherers of modern-day, crisis-struck Buenos Aires, who come out at dusk to gather up recyclable rubbish for a few pesos.

Playing live in London as part of the annual jazz festival, Sandra Luna is one of a small number of Argentine artists eager, and evidently able, to lift tango canción (tango song) out of the show-and-spectacle context and show its force as a poetry of longing and lamentation. With its varied moods and Luna's consistently powerful voice, Tango Varón takes its inspiration from the intimate world of cabaret and cafe concert culture and brings another formidable talent onto the global tango stage.

Reviewer: Chris Moss

06/16/04 >> go there

CD review by Ernesto Lechner (New York Post)

New York Post, CD review by Ernesto Lechner >>

TANGO
Aregentine genre based on the sound of the bandoneon--a box-shaped button accordian

Sandra Luna
Tango Varon
(Times Square Records)

The latest by one of the strongest female voices in contemporary tango begins, ironically enough, with an original composition exalting the manly nature of Argentina's quintessential song format. Luna, who has been singing tangos since the age of six, understands the genre's macho idiosyncrasies and makes them her own with a natural brashness that is disarming and invigorating.
06/09/04

Orlando Weekly, CD Review

Since Astor Piazzolla revolutionized tango in the '60s with his "tango nuevo," it's been a challenge to find artists willing to help the music continue to move forward, rather than simply continue paying homage to its past. With the exception of the electronicists in the Gotan Project, most contemporary tango musicians seem content to hew closely to long-obeyed rules. Sandra Luna, thankfully, is not an archivist. On Tango Varòn, she gleefully upends long-held traditions of masculinity and percussive aggression to emerge with an album that's both self-assured and strong while being subtle and evocative. Luna's voice is resonant to the point of being threatening, but the husky romance of her delivery and the sparse instrumental approach of the album makes for an unlikely and wonderful combination of past and future. 05/27/04

Cranky Crow, CD Review

Last spring Time Square Records brought the Portuguese fado sensation, Mariza stateside. This spring the label introduces American audiences to an equally splendid woman performer, Argentine tango vocalist, Sandra Luna (not to be confused with Argentine Barbara Luna). Born in 1966, in the slaughter house district of Buenos Aries, Sandra began performing at a tango bar, El Boliche de Rotundo at age 11. Over the years she has performed along side some of Argentina's great tango figures including Edmundo Rivero, Roberto Goyeneche and Nelly Omar, all members of the tango canciòn tradition (tango vocals). Tango Vàron acts as Sandra's international debut, but more than that, the CD features a fabulous vocal talent poised for international acclaim. Similar to Mariza, Sandra has honored the musical tradition from her culture while adding that irresistible feminine touch.
Sandra is deeply rooted in the past honoring such tango legends as Carlos Gardel as well as, the founder of Nuevo Tango, Astor Piazzolla and other tango composers. While Tango Vàron doesn't supply listeners with a tango history lesson, it does present an array of tango vocal classics and contemporary tango songs. Sandra makes the classics and contemporary songs her own, exuding passion and caressing each note as if the memories portrayed in the songs are personal. I think of tango vocalists as actors bringing out every nuance in the tango compositions from melancholy to the sensual embrace of a lover. Although Sandra makes this fete seem effortless, it takes formidable talent to pull this off.nbsp; Not only that, Sandra performs songs composed by men that reflect on macho experiences. Listen to the title track for instance, but on this CD, and as described in the liner notes, Sandra makes these words her own--all woman.

I find the recording enjoyable as a whole, but I do have a few favorites including, Milonga Triste with its haunting strings, Che Bandoneòn with its intriguing vocal phrasings, Me Llaman Luna complimented with indigenous percussion and Lejana Tierra Mìa laced with a tear drenched cello. The production is acoustic featuring violin, cello, bandoneòn, double bass, piano, percussion and guitars. The album was produced by French producer Serge Glanzberg, Gstavo Pazos and Eric Van Santen. Together a long list of musicians, arrangers, producers along with Sandra Luna have created a collection of tangos that will be pleasuring many ears, hearts and feet this season and beyond. Also see Rough Guide to Argentina.

PLH

Tango Varon

Albuquerque Journal, Tango Varon >>

The brief bio in the cd booklet says Sandra Luna performed in a tango bar at the ripe age of 11. But the now-mature Buenos Aires singer possesses the kind of clear, full-bodied voice you would prefer to hear in a concert hall.
Luna's tone on this CD (Times Square) is similar to Vikki Carr's. But Luna's hard-driving presentation is focused on tango's deeply nostalgic and romantic qualities.
A wondrous element is the mix of instruments, including the familiar bandoeneon, behind Luna. For example, Daniel Pucci's cello makes her voice radiate on the cut "Lejana Tierra Mia." The next cut, "Me Llaman Luna," departs from the tango, with its jazzy take on an Andrean rhythm with the singer backed by piano, bass and percussion.
A more gritty departure from the tango is the waltz "Que Nadie Sepa Mi Sufrir."
05/14/04

Las Vegas Weekly, CD Review

Sandra Luna "Tango Varón" (times square)

There's something odd in that I enjoy listening to music with lyrics I can't understand. This is an amazing collection of tangos, the traditional kind born of the Argentine slums, with a wonderful folksy feel. Listening, I close my eyes and see myself in a small Buenos Aires bodega, filled with hookers and pimps. Either that, or another episode of Amar otra Vez on Univision. And as a bonus for gringos, the liner notes are bilingual. 05/13/04

Barnes and Noble, Review

All Music Guide

Far from the cheesy sound of much tango, Sandra Luna introduces real passion and heartbreak into the music, revitalizing a genre that -- apart from Astor Piazzolla's new tango -- has seemed moribund for too long. It's a bravura vocal display, to be sure, but the support, especially from the string section, with excellent arrangements, frames her perfectly, giving a brave dignity to the music. She's at her best on the slower material such as "Lejana Tierra Mía" or "Duella Criollo" (with its superb guitar accompaniment), where the tango takes on the emotional depth of Portuguese fado and Luna truly shines. She transmits sadness perfectly, in small vocal gestures that go directly to the soul. For the most part she steers clear of the traditional bandoneon (except for the lovely "Ché Bandoneón," where instrument and voice play off each other to wonderful effect) for a fuller sound that suits her well. Luna might just prove to be the figure to propel tango into the new century, and to bring it, reenergized and soulful, into the mainstream of world music. That she's a star is beyond doubt, and in her hands the music sparkles. Chris Nickson 05/01/04 >> go there

Daily Telegraph (UK)

For decades, tango was a joke -the apogee of preening ballroom naffness. But since the rediscovery of its earthy origins among Buenos Aires prostitutes, it's become amazingly cool. Gotan Project's slick digital reworking was hugely successful. And you'd expect top Argentinian singer Sandra Luna's international debut to have been tastefully stripped back for the world music market. In fact it's spectacularly gushing, with all the strutting no-holdsbarred emotionalism you'd expect of an old-fashioned Latin diva. And it's all the better for it. While we think of tango as dance, it finds its highest expression through song, and 37-year-old Luna harks back to the music's 1920s and '40s heydays. Her mid-range voice is appealingly ripe, the melodies rich and full blooded, with the trademark bandoneon complemented by swirling strings and rippling guitar. The more forceful numbers are almost comically over the top, and even the slower numbers have a delirious, overheated quality. This is music that has moved out of the brothels into a fast-living bourgeois world where even the most respectable people go wild under a full moon.

Mark Hudson Telegraph, November 2003 - UK 11/01/03 >> go there

The Times of London

We've had our Latin love affair with Cuban music and our bossa nova bonanza with the sounds of Brazil. could tango be the next world rhythm to cross over to ineffable dub coolness' The Paris-based Gotan Project are leading the way already by rescuing Argentina's national dance music from its Rudolph Valentino image and middle-aged Mecca ballroom manners with their audacious mix of ekctronica and accordions, Now, from the label that gave us Mariza and rendered Portuguese fado hip again, comes Sandra Luna's debut intemational release. Looking like Bebel Gilberto's Argentinian cousin. Luna has an acoustic approach, and her subtly nuanced backing of bandoneon, strings and acoustic guitars is more traditional than Gotan's daring electronic tango adventure. But she balances the weight of tango's history with a thoroughly contemporary aesthetic as her strong dramatic voice restores the original sensual earthiness to prewar tango classics and makes more recent numbers by the likes of Astor Piazzola entirely her own. The one complaint is that for some inexplicable reason the best and boldest tracks such as the percussive Me Llaman Luna and the intoxicating Que Nadie Sepa Mi Sufrir all seem to have been kept until the end. This means that the casual listener dipping into the first two or three tracks might easily be thrown off the scent. But stick with Tango Varon and you'll soon hear star quality as big as Argentina's bank debt. ****

NIGEL WILLIAMSON / Times

11/01/03 >> go there