875 results where found for «Intendencia de Rancagua»


The Vargas War (La guerra de los Vargas)

Song by:
Unknown. Lyrics modifed by political prisoners.
Testimony by:
Luis Cifuentes Seves
Experience in:
Campamento de Prisioneros Chacabuco, November 1973 - February 1974
« This old Venezuelan song, written by an unknown songwriter, and that has had many variations, was performed by Los de Chacabuco in during the camp’s weekly show. »
[...]
« The Vargas War (La guerra de los Vargas) »
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Las mañanitas

Song by:
Manuel M. Ponce
Testimony by:
Beatriz Bataszew Contreras
Experience in:
Campamento de Prisioneros, Tres Álamos, December 1974 - May 1976
« Normally we would sing when they locked us up in the barracks, from seven or eight at night until eight or nine in the morning. Sometimes the guards would come in but didn’t stay. It was our act. »
[...]
« Wake up my dear, wake up, see that the day has already dawned »
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Valparaíso

Song by:
Sergio Vesely
Testimony by:
Sergio Vesely
Experience in:
« This song was written and sung in cell number 198 of Valparaíso’s former prison, that is to say, on the top floor of the main building, which was higher than the walls that surrounded it. This had several advantages for the prisoner, for if they perched on a stool to peer through the skylight, they could enjoy the company of a good part of the city during their hours of confinement. »
[...]
« a wounded port, behind some hills, »
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To Sing by Improvising (Pa’ cantar de un improviso)

Song by:
Violeta Parra
Testimony by:
Claudio Enrique Durán Pardo (aka Quique Cruz)
« We made a Venezuelan cuatro from a large plank of wood attached to one of the walls of the "ranch" where we ate. »
[...]
« In order to sing extemporaneously »
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Neither Fish nor Fowl (Ni chicha ni limoná)

Song by:
Víctor Jara
Testimony by:
Joaquín Vallejos
Experience in:
« I was arrested at home together with a childhood friend who they’d gone to pick up first. My family thought he’d stitched me up, which was not true. My friend had nothing to do with politics; he just wanted peace and freedom. He was a hippie and very committed to helping those in need. The two of us were held in the Silva Palma barracks, but the interrogations and torture sessions were at the Naval War Academy in Valparaíso. »
[...]
« here underneath my poncho »
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Song of the Disappeared (Canción del desaparecido)

Song by:
Sergio Vesely
Testimony by:
Sergio Vesely
Experience in:
« Several of my friends and comrades disappeared after being arrested. The dictatorship denied knowledge of their whereabouts but I knew they were lying. Many of these people had been in prison with me in the dungeons of Villa Grimaldi. This song was sung in a cell of Valparaíso Jail with one comrade keeping watch next to the door in case a prison guard approached. »
[...]
« The cruel beast that I detest »
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Let’s Break the Morning (Rompamos la mañana)

Song by:
René “Popeye” Cárdenas Eugenin
Testimony by:
María Soledad Ruiz Ovando
Experience in:
« Music was very important for us (my mother Sylvia Ovando, my sister Alejandra Ruiz and myself) while my dad, Daniel Ruiz Oyarzo, 'el Negro Ruiz', was imprisoned during the dictatorship, when Alejandra was seven and I was four. »
[...]
« René “Popeye” Cárdenas Eugenin »
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The Letter (La carta)

Song by:
Violeta Parra
Testimony by:
Paicavi Painemal
Experience in:
« We set up a band with a group of fellow prisoners. They were young, university students. One of them had a guitar. From what I remember, he was a music teacher and they allowed him to keep the instrument. In the band we also played the bombo and the charango. I accompanied by singing. »
[...]
« those without defence »
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The Letter (La carta)

Song by:
Violeta Parra
Testimony by:
Pedro Mella Contreras
« When solitary confinement was lifted in January 1987 and we were able to receive visitors, a brother who lived in Santiago travelled to see me. »
[...]
« those without defence »
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The Man Who Transformed into an Animal (El hombre que se convirtió en animal)

Song by:
Sergio Vesely
Testimony by:
Sergio Vesely
« I wrote this song shortly after reading Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, one of the books that circulated in Camp Melinka from hand to hand and cabin to cabin. I presume I don’t have to explain who is the one experiencing the metamorphosis here. »
[...]
« A despicable, obedient biped »
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