20 results where found for «Everything Changes»


Melody by Jorge Peña Hen

Author:
Jorge Peña Hen
Testimony by:
María Fedora Peña
Place & date:
Cárcel de la Serena, October 1973
« “Look here, Maria Fedora. I’ve brought you a treasure...” - it was the voice of my brother Juan Cristián as he crossed the doorway of our mother’s house one morning in January 1983. Peering over the staircase banister, I saw him raise his right hand with something clenched inside. He was just back from a quick trip to La Serena, and I was spending my holidays in Chile. I had travelled home to show the family my beautiful baby girl, María Paz, my first child born in Caracas. »
[...]
« “It’s something from Dad…. And it still has his scent,” said Juan Cristián, as he opened his hand to reveal a scrap of paper, neatly folded with the precision and thoroughness characteristic of my father in everything he did. “He composed it during his days in solitary confinement,” he added. “I have just received it, now, ten years later.” »
[Read full testimony]

Words for Julia (Palabras para Julia)

Author:
José Agustín Goytisolo (lyrics) and Paco Ibáñez (music)
Testimony by:
Amelia Negrón
Place & date:
Campamento de Prisioneros, Tres Álamos, 1975 and 1976 until Tres Álamos was closed on 28 November 1976
« There were so many of us women prisoners. Despite the circumstances we had managed to invent our own world, one with our rules, according to what we thought and wanted for ourselves, our families and all the Chilean people. One might think we were ambitious women, and yes, we certainly were. Most of us remain so, and surely will continue to be until the end. »
[...]
« One song went like this: “La vida es bella ya verás, como a pesar de los pesares, tendrás amigos, tendrás amor, tendrás amigos. Un hombre solo, una mujer, así tomados, de uno en uno, son como polvo, no son nada, no son nada.” (Life is beautiful you'll see, despite everything, you’ll have friends, find love, have friends. A man alone, a woman alone, are like dust, are nothing, are nothing.) And in low voices we remembered our beloved comrades who, on the outside, were still struggling in the shadows against the dictatorship, watching their steps, their words, their gestures, and supported by other brave people, like those who had helped us before. And we kept a strong hope in the depths of our hearts, that our workshop would receive no more new workers. We knew that in this struggle we were not alone. »
[Read full testimony]

Go Tell It to the Rain (Ve y díselo a la lluvia)

Author:
Clan 91
Testimony by:
Eduardo Ojeda
« We had a comrade who sang beautifully. He was called Peye and was a student at the State Technical University. I’d never met him before but later we becamoe great friends in the Compingin Camp on the island. »
[...]
« Music was very important on Dawson Island. People would sing in the evenings, especially Argentinian folk songs and everything that we wrote. »
[Read full testimony]

Prayer So You Don't Forget Me

Author:
Óscar Castro (words) and Ariel Arancibia González (music)
Testimony by:
Rosalía Martínez
Place & date:
« 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. »
[...]
« I also think that everything related to music is part of an affective memory, a memory of bodies, of affections, of the emotions in which are rooted the reasons why we struggle. A sensitive expression is the space where society’s ideas and projects are transformed into life experiences. »
[Read full testimony]

The Prisoner of Til Til (El cautivo de Til Til)

Author:
Patricio Manns
Testimony by:
Renato Alvarado
« I arrived at Tres Álamos on the eve of the departure for Mexico of a large group of prisoners. The group included Dr. Ipinza, who before leaving entrusted me with the job of physician, the medicine donated by the Red Cross, and his position in the Council of Elders. At 28 years of age, I found this title odd but also understandable, in light of the social esteem with which all tribes regard their healers. This tale has its origins there, as does a famous doctors’ strike, but that is another story. »
[...]
« I was next and I didn’t pass up the opportunity to be as offensive as I was able to be in such situations. After all, I knew the punishment would come regardless. When the slaps in the face began, I was on guard and could handle them without problems. Then it was Toluca’s turn. This comrade was of very slight build; he cannot have weighed more than sixty kilos. All along, he had had plenty of time to plan his performance. When the cop dealt his first punch, Toluca flew over the desk, sweeping away everything in his path, and destroying the big typewriter that had stood there. Through the open door, which had been left open, I could see Toluca flat on his back in a corner, in the middle of all the debris, and he was saying to Pacheco, “What a mighty right hook, Commander!” while the police officer stupidly gazed at his own fist and the damage it had caused, trying to fathom how he had caused such destruction. »
[Read full testimony]

What Will the Holy Father Say (Qué dirá el Santo Padre)

Author:
Violeta Parra
Testimony by:
María Cecilia Marchant Rubilar
Place & date:
Cárcel de Mujeres Buen Pastor, La Serena, September 1973 - January 1974
« We sang songs that were popular at the time. We’d sing "What will the Holy Father say," especially the part that says "What will the Holy Father who lives in Rome say ... they are slitting the throat of his dove..." quite often, for example when someone was taken off to Regimiento Arica, which was a torture centre. We would also sing "La golondrina" (The swallow), which was very symbolic, because even though we were imprisoned, we could "fly", our thoughts soaring beyond the prison walls... »
[...]
« To me music is everything in life; it's what gets me through each day. My mum played the piano, one of my brothers played the guitar. I don’t play any instrument, nor do I sing because I have a horrible voice. When I was studying primary education pedagogy a music teacher told me, "Cecilia, please don’t sing to the children". It is hard to conceive of a day without music. For me music is to spend all day with my headphones on, listening to different kinds of music. If I have to clean the house, I turn on the computer and search for something to listen to. It might occur to me to listen to Mercedes Sosa, or Quilapayún, or classical music, or something more cheerful. »
[Read full testimony]

Candombe for José (Candombe para José)

Author:
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! »
[...]
« Everything comes to an end. We picked up the poor ball, got into formation, and with our hearts racing, marched back to our cells. What a beautiful day, how lucky we were, what a blue sky! »
[Read full testimony]

How We Resemble Each Other (En qué nos parecemos)

Author:
Unknown. Popularised by Quilapayún
Testimony by:
Scarlett Mathieu
« In Cuatro Álamos, I was profoundly marked by the singing of a current detained-disappeared named Juan Chacón. He sang ‘En qué nos parecemos’, a love song from the Spanish Civil War. It remained engraved in me because that comrade disappeared from Cuatro Álamos. »
[...]
« I have memories of Londres 30 too. We hummed a little when the guard allowed it but I do not remember which songs. Everything is very faded. »
[Read full testimony]

Lucía

Author:
Joan Manuel Serrat
Testimony by:
Beatriz Bataszew Contreras
Place & date:
Campamento de Prisioneros, Tres Álamos, December 1974 - May 1976
« Tres Álamos was a more “normal” camp, even though we never had a trial. There was a lot of music, it was sort of ritualistic. There were days when we put more enthusiasm into it, on Saturdays or Sundays after the visits, although I’m not all that sure. »
[...]
« ‘Candombe para José’ was very important. The line ‘ánimo Negro José’ (‘go for it, Negro José’) was a bit like saying ‘it will go away, there are always other possibilities’. I feel it was an encouraging song and also a way of showing each other affection. Although it’s completely different, ‘Palabras para Julia’ (Words for Julia) also says that there is a future, in spite of the current circumstances. ‘Ode to Joy’ was extremely important. It suggests that there are going to be changes, that our situation is not going to last forever. »
[Read full testimony]

Poet of Destiny (Poeta del destino)

Author:
Sergio Vesely
Testimony by:
Sergio Vesely
Place & date:
« This song is a tribute to Miguel Enríquez, Secretary General of the Movement of the Revolutionary Left (MIR), who was gunned down by a commando of the dictatorship’s secret police on 5 October 1974. My own five-year militancy in that organisation resulted in my enormous respect for this individual. »
[...]
« The original text was created in the Capuchinos Prison (my last stop in Chile before leaving for exile in Germany), and underwent substantial changes in the early 1980s (which in my view enrich the composition) when I had the chance to read the moving speech given by Edgardo Enríquez, father of the political leader, at the opening ceremony of the Miguel Enríquez Clinical Hospital in Havana, Cuba. »
[Read full testimony]