895 results where found for «El cautivo de Til Til»


Why does the afternoon cry (Por qué llora la tarde)

Song by:
Antônio Marcos. Popularised in Chile by Claudio Reyes
Testimony by:
Carolina Videla
Experience in:
« My prison term happened during the last year of the dictatorship after the No vote won. I was set free because of “lack of evidence”, after a year and a half in prison. »
[...]
« Cautivo, Salvador »
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Recinto: Tenencia de Carabineros, Til Til
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We Shall Overcome

Song by:
Attributed to Charles Albert Tindley
Testimony by:
Alfonso Padilla Silva
Experience in:
« When the concentration camp that operated for nearly five months at the Regional Stadium of Concepción was closed in early February 1974, hundreds of political prisoners were transferred to the Concepción Prison, a wing of which was turned into a concentration camp. On 19 February of that year, a trial process began before a military tribunal and seven or eight comrades including myself were transferred to the prison. »
[...]
« These performances were divided in two parts, each lasting around 40 minutes. In one we presented the "Cantata of Santa María de Iquique", but that's another story. With a smaller group, which we called The Hard-boiled Eggs (I still have no idea where that name came from or how we chose it), we presented a show every other Sunday at noon. There we’d accompany anyone who wanted to sing a song of their choice. But that, too, is another story. »
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Zamba so as Not to Die (Zamba para no morir)

Song by:
Hamlet Lima Quintana
Testimony by:
Ana María Jiménez
Experience in:
Villa Grimaldi, April 1975
« I want to recall a night at Villa Grimaldi. »
[...]
« “Oh, so you’re gonna make us beg you. In that case everyone will stay outside until you decide to sing, so you all take a little fresh air”. »
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Lucky Devil (El suertúo)

Song by:
Víctor Canto and Luis Cifuentes (lyrics), Roberto Parra (music)
Testimony by:
Luis Cifuentes Seves
Experience in:
Campamento de Prisioneros Chacabuco, November 1973 - February 1974
« This cueca* was composed at Chacabuco sometime between November 1973 and February 1974 and was sung by Los de Chacabuco, of which Víctor Canto and I were members. »
[...]
« This cueca was secretly recorded at Chacabuco by Alberto Corvalán Castillo, son of the Communist Party secretary-general Luis Corvalán, with assistance from Guillermo Orrego and Domingo Chávez. Alberto was to die in Bulgaria as a consequence of the torture to which he had been subjected at the National Stadium’s velodrome that caused him irreparable heart damage. »
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A Cocky Fellow (El puntúo)

Song by:
Víctor Canto and Luis Cifuentes (lyrics), Roberto Parra (music)
Testimony by:
Luis Cifuentes Seves
Experience in:
Campamento de Prisioneros Chacabuco, November 1973 - February 1974
« This cueca* was composed in Chacabuco between November 1973 and February 1974, and was sung by the band Los de Chacabuco, to which Víctor Canto and I belonged. »
[...]
« This cueca was secretly recorded in Chacabuco by Alberto Corvalán Castillo, son of the Communist Party's secretary general Luis Corvalán, with help from Guillermo Orrego and Domingo Chávez. Alberto died in Bulgaria from permanent heart damage caused by torture suffered at the National Stadium velodrome. »
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Return, Return, Return (Volver, volver, volver)

Song by:
Vicente Fernández
Testimony by:
Jorge Montealegre Iturra
« At the Chacabucan artistic shows, Hugo Peñaloza sang tangos, including “Volver” (Return) by Gardel and Le Pera. This caused a lot of self-ironic laughter when he sang  “que veinte años no es nada” (twenty years is nothing) given our situation of uncertainty in which no one knew how long we’d be imprisoned. He also sang it during a farewell party for a group of comrades who were going to be released. To think of returning was tragicomic. And yet, four decades later, we returned. Of our own free will. »
[...]
« Back then, when he performed on the prison camp stage, he sang it mischievously and a sense of dark humour. This was expressed not only because of the real possibility of returning to the prison, but also by the gestures he made when singing “Voy camino a la locura y aunque todo me tortura…” (I’m on the road to madness and still everything tortures me...). »
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Beloved Friend (Amado amigo)

Song by:
Sergio Vesely
Testimony by:
Sergio Vesely
« This song, written in my cell at the Puchuncaví Prison Camp, speaks to a friend and fellow prisoner; it could be any one of the thousands behind bars. »
[...]
« Doves on 100-peso coins (palomas en monedas de cien): Metal handicrafts was very popular in the jails and concentration camps, especially, the production of medallions and rings. The main raw materials for this work consisted of coins, spoons, and all sorts of metal containers. With a hammer or similar tool, the craftsmen pounded the object, transforming it into a thin metal disc. Finally, these were cut and hammered until obtaining the desired shape. On the medallions we would etch the peace symbol: Picasso's dove. »
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To Be Seventeen Again (Volver a los diecisiete)

Song by:
Violeta Parra
Testimony by:
Gabriela Durand
« I was 18, and already I had been tortured on the rack several times. One day I was with some other comrade prisoners, and as sometimes happened, the guards put some music on. They used to put the radio on, playing popular tunes of the time. For us young people, the songs were a bit corny, but still we enjoyed them; they were a relief. We always kept absolute silence. »
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Ode to Joy (Himno a la alegría)

Song by:
original by Friedrich von Schiller (lyrics) and Ludwig van Beethoven (music). Free version in Spanish by Amado Regueiro Rodríguez, aka Orbe (lyrics) y Waldo de los Ríos (music), popularised in Chile by Miguel Ríos.
Testimony by:
Renato Alvarado Vidal
« Once upon a time there was a good little wolf. … No. That’s another story. »
[...]
« And of course I listened to it, and I sang it. I am a dreadful singer. Once, at Puchuncaví concentration camp, they noticed that out of 320 singers I was the one singing the National Anthem out of tune. But at this moment I sang, I joined my comrades’ chorus with all my might, and I sang, I sang away all my joy at staying alive and still being on my feet. »
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