Tango Without Dance at Old First Concerts

Yesterday afternoon  at the Old First Presbyterian Church, Old First Concerts presented the Tangonero quartet. Based in San Francisco, this ensemble is dedicated to preserving the musical tradition of the Argentine tango. Ironically, none of the performers are from anywhere near South America. The two Americans are violinist Yuri Kye and Jason Heath on bass. The pianist, Celeste Chiam, is Malaysian, while the bandoneon, the most characteristic instrument in a tango combo, is played by Russian Alex Roitman.

Nationalities aside, this was a group with a clear love of the tango repertoire and with the technical chops to do justice to both the substance and the style of the charts they played. Because this is music for the dance, there are elements of rigidity that would be out of place in jazz combos; but within that controlled framework, each player could still take opportunities to riff on the underlying structure.

Chiam’s piano work was perhaps the biggest surprise, always played with composure but frequently punctuated with glissando passages to keep the listener paying attention. Roitman was clearly comfortable with the intricacies of the bandoneon, with its button keyboards on both sides of the bellows. Indeed, his bellows work was smooth enough to capture consistently subtle twists in phrasing that accounted for the more sensuous connotations of the music. Kye’s contributions were a bit more modest and were most notable for interleaving among the passages played by Roitman and Chiam. Heath alternated between bowing and plucking to provide the necessary supporting bass line.

The program consisted of fifteen relatively short selections by a wide diversity of composers. I am sure I was not the only one in the audience to recognize only the name of Astor Piazzolla, who was the only composer represented by two pieces. Four of the selections were vocal, sung by Claudio Ortega. All were sung in Spanish. Translations were not provided and Ortega explained the background of only one of the songs, but it was clear that he was not comfortable with his English.

Nevertheless, this was music that could go a long way on style, even if underlying substance eluded many in the audience. The one trope that particularly appealed to me was the way in which each selection, no matter how energetic and regardless of dynamic level, would drop into near silence for the final cadence. It was almost as if the heart of the music was like boiling hot water, which would then evaporate into a fine mist at the conclusion. This was a stylistic approach I had not previously encountered, but it could not have been more delightful in the intimate setting of the Old First sanctuary.