August 12, 2009
Tony2 or reduction to the absurd
I have a plan to suggest to those of you who have stayed in Madrid or will visit it at some point. It all started like this on the day we put it into practice:
-Bambini, we’ve been told about a very fun place where we can sing like hoarse birds. It is very important that we arrive to show our art. After the first drink, we’ll meet there, 2 am, ok?
Scalpers shirt, La Condesa bow tie (myself), Florence shoes, Pants (I don't know)
-Finally I will be able to show the whole world my skill with lighthearted songs. I grew up watching the San Remo Festival for a reason. I am an Italian, with a guitar in hand.
The Count Consort is nervous, we've been told about an indescribable place where the strangest people in Madrid gather around a piano to sing. It has been described to us as "the place where fun divorced women over 50 go", "a place where anything can happen", "a freak club". Conclusion: we had to see it, we had to go to TONY2!! (Almirante street, 9). The name alone promised a lot.
We arrived appropriately dressed so as not to clash too much with the place and found the following scene at the back of the bar.
What you see are shots from the back of the pianist, the almighty being who rules the destiny of this place by deciding who gets the microphone to start singing the song they requested, accompanied, of course, by his melodic piano and the voices of dozens of people who know all the songs. Incredible. The atmosphere is indescribable.
There’s talent, people sing quite well, though not everyone; it's like being live at the OT auditions, you can get a decent performance or one that makes you burst out laughing. It’s worth noting this girl who, before starting to sing, spent about a minute tuning the pitch with the pianist. How? Yes, yes, you heard right, "suuuumMMMer nightsss, no half a tone lower, suuummmmMMMer nights". Although the apotheosis for me was the gentleman who asked to sing "Libre" by Nino Bravo, and I swear he only remembered one phrase of the whole song, which he repeated over and over again. What a character.
While I was acting as a graphic reporter, others were getting encouraged...
While I was acting as a graphic reporter, others were getting encouraged...
Manu, with an uncertain expression, wondered:
-Is it time to show my knowledge of Rocío Jurado's discography, the greatest, Los Chunguitos, or Rocío Dúrcal?
-Will I finally be able to put into practice my imitation of El Puma or, failing that, El Fary?
The three tenors burst onto the stage in an uncontrollable impulse to honor Il Bel Canto
-Let's go, bambini!!! Felicità a la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ni no niiiiThey knew the lyrics, I swear, so much so that the white-haired gentleman, the omnipresent pianist, WARNED THEM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SONG FOR SINGING OVER THE SOLOIST AND STEALING ALL THE SPOTLIGHT!!!
Ahhhhh aaahhhh
Humiliated, our intrepid amateurs had to silence their angelic voices and retreat from the stage they had sneaked onto without waiting for their turn. Art is like that, it knows no rules and when it needs to come out, it comes out, like a gush. That's what it was.
Here's the reporter with her dignity a little more intact than usual thanks to the journalistic assignment. Please note the layer of grime on the seats of such an illustrious den. Yes, I was wearing my pajamas again, the temptation is even greater in summer.
As I said, if you're looking for a different and, above all, strange experience, I'll see you at Tony2.
As I said, if you're looking for a different and, above all, strange experience, I'll see you at Tony2.
-I am humiliated but not defeated, I will return. Franco Battiato, Laura Pausini, Rita Pavone... I will return and demonstrate the value of Italian music. Ciao!!
P.S.: scheduled post, I'm still on vacation. Thanks for commenting, I'll reply when I get back.