40 results where found for «Errant Wind (Viento errante)»


The Apparition (El aparecido)

Song by:
Víctor Jara
Testimony by:
Pedro Mella Contreras
« When they took me out to physiotherapy treatment, I sang some verses of the song ‘The Apparition’ loudly: »
[...]
« Leaves his mark on the wind »
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Captive Quena (Quena cautiva)

Song by:
Claudio Enrique Durán Pardo (aka Quique Cruz)
Testimony by:
Claudio Enrique Durán Pardo
Experience in:
Campamento de Prisioneros, Tres Álamos, September - December 1975
« I first laid my hands on a quena (Andean flute) when I was nine years old. It was resplendently fragile and lyrical. My passion for this instrument was immediate, or rather, the quena chose me. Five years later, aged 14, I had already become the quena player of a quartet in ​​San Antonio. »
[...]
« Perhaps some of those who were with me will remember that, in the evening, almost at sunset, I made the quena sing in the Tres Álamos concentration camp. The laconic guards who watched me from the towers were unable to decipher the contraband of symbols which, driven by the wind, flew freely to the captive ears of the "Women’s Pavilion". »
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Casida of the Dark Pigeons (Casida de las palomas oscuras)

Song by:
Federico García Lorca (words), Paco Ibáñez (music)
Testimony by:
Luis Alfredo Muñoz González
Experience in:
« According to scientists, memory and music processing are situated in a deep, ancestral part of the brain, where it is zealously guarded. Perhaps this explains why even after our bodies have been destroyed down to the bone marrow, when nothing is left of us but the murky eyes of death, music and song appear. »
[...]
« Very early the next morning, I was awakened by the voice of a woman calling my name. Still half asleep, I thought it was Diana calling me from some place in the 'afterlife'. The voice cautiously persisted. The voice came from the right side of my cell. Naked, I went to the window (I always showered dressed wash the blood off my clothes, which I then hung to dry from the bars of the window.). »
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Tacit Song (Canción tácita)

Song by:
All the women present at that moment in Chacabuco
Testimony by:
Mónica García Cuadra
Experience in:
« I am the daughter of a former political prisoner who spent a long time imprisoned at Chacabuco, among other places. I am Monica, a little 9-year-old girl who travelled with a heavy heart full of sadness to visit her father, Gerardo García Salas, held at the Chacabuco concentration camp. I am an only child and in my young life he is my sole reference point and, in essence, my image of masculinity. »
[...]
« To get to Chacabuco, we must cross many obstacles alongside so many other women, and I am anxious to embrace my beloved father. Holding my mother's hand and in the company of many other women, we waited under the desert sun and wind that carried stories from the past as we beat our brows to engrave that moment into our memory. »
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You Hear It Far Away (Se escucha muy lejos)

Song by:
Collective creation
Testimony by:
Ignacio Puelma
Experience in:
« The sound of the sea was carried over the cabins of the Ritoque Prison Camp by the wind. It was the daily music given to us as gift by the ocean. Gone were the torture centres, the cruellest torments seemed distant, and that perception helped us to reconstruct ourselves. Ritoque, Puchuncaví, Tres Álamos and other mass prisoner centres were seething places of activity. Despite the shortcomings and the actual fact of being in prison, movement was gushing from everywhere: courses, crafts, sports, debates, chess, theatre, literature, songs… life was throbbing after we’d lived through the worst nightmares. To go back to them was always a possibility, so much so that some of us did have to go back to the DINA's torture centres. »
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National Anthem of Chile

Song by:
Eusebio Lillo and Ramón Carnicer
Testimony by:
anónimo
Experience in:
« I was detained in Panguipulli on 24 September 1973, along with 17 other young people. I was a high school student. I was also working at the forestry and logging company of Huilo Huilo, which had been taken over by the working class. We were tortured for two or three days at the police station of Panguipulli. They left me unconscious. »
[...]
« Then they took us to a police station in Valdivia. In the stables they took our names and addresses, and then sent us to the prison on Teja Island. In the prison, one of the prisoners spent night and day in a dungeon. Despite being in solitary confinement, he would open his window and sing the National Anthem at full blast. We all went outside to have a look, even the guards. The prisoner didn’t sing the verse about the brave soldiers, out of protest I imagine. He sang for about four days. After that we heard nothing more about him. »
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Candombe for José (Candombe para José)

Song by:
Roberto Ternán
Testimony by:
Alejandro Olate
« The youngest among us, aged 17 or even 16 years, did the heaviest work on Dawson Island. We had to fell trees, cut them, split them in two, cut them into wedges, and walk the several hundred meters back to the barracks carrying the logs on our shoulders. Our older comrades sawed them and cut them into small logs to fill the woodsheds that fed three large heaters in the barracks. »
[...]
« At some specific moment we were able to approach the commanders and the guards in a different way. I was one of several comrades who proposed the idea of putting on a show on the weekends, in order to entertain, to unwind, and to relax from the constant psychological pressure and torture. That was the birth of artistic expression. Each of the sections in the camp would contribute an number. We would sing, do impressions, put on costumes, put on impressive plays, all performed with much affection. The song 'Candombe para José' was a hit on Dawson Island. »
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Prayer So You Don't Forget Me

Song by:
Óscar Castro (words) and Ariel Arancibia González (music)
Testimony by:
Rosalía Martínez
Experience in:
« When Katia Chornik contacted me a few years ago asking me to provide my testimony about my musical experience in prison, I thought I didn’t have much to say. I had spent most of my detention held by the DINA secret police, at the house on José Domingo Cañas Street, called the Ollagüe Barracks. Then, I was held in solitary confinement at Cuatro Álamos, and spent just a month in the Tres Álamos concentration camp. »
[...]
« It was a fairly well-known popular song with lyrics that go “Yo me pondré a vivir en cada rosa…” (I will live in every rose...), do you know it? It was the song that Cecilia and Flavio had fallen in love listening to. At Cuatro Álamos, Cecilia would ask to be taken to the bathroom and, taking advantage of being closer to the men’s cells, she would quietly sing the song from the window in the hope that Flavio would hear it and that he would then know she was alive, she was fine and she was thinking of him. »
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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. »
[...]
« For the first time in many days, he was in front of a window, albeit one that had solid cross-bars, allowing only the sight of a grey wall facing it. But it was a window nonetheless, and he could not stop looking through it as they were taking the chains off his hands. Once he was left alone and recovered the use of his hands, the first thing he did was open that window. At that moment the warm air of Santiago's autumn came into the cell at the same time as the Ode to joy, casually intoned by the prisoners of the adjacent prison section. »
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Candombe for José (Candombe para José)

Song by:
Roberto Ternán
Testimony by:
Amelia Negrón
« We were in Pavilion 1. One of us came up with the idea, I can’t remember who. There were so many of us and we spent the day inventing and creating things! »
[...]
« But the most important thing: from a corner of the court, also, you could see, sideways, the windows of Cuatro Álamos and our imprisoned comrades hanging their hands and feet out as far as they could between the window bars. Those in this pavilion would either become prisoners or become part of the long lines of comrades who are detained-disappeared to this day. »
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