179 results where found for «Today I Sing for the Sake of Singing»


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. »
[...]
« One song became the most special, as it had been written by one of the prisoners (at that time we didn’t know who). My dad told us that as they could not sing songs like the ones we sang in the car, a comrade had created 'Let’s Break the Morning' and that they would sing it as they went out to do various jobs in the forest. I remember that I imagined them singing with a tree trunk on their shoulders. »
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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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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! »
[...]
« Then we see the guys running out with tables, benches, seats, and sitting down to see us play. They tuned charangos, drums and guitars and began singing, singing to us at the top of their voices. Over a hundred prisoners singing in unison. It was stirring. »
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You Will Pay (The Cigarette Smoke) (Pagarás [El humo del cigarrillo])

Song by:
Manuel Mantilla
Testimony by:
Fernando Aravena
Experience in:
« The political prisoners were isolated but when they made us go down to the courtyard, we were with the common prisoners. They listened to the song ‘El humo del cigarillo’ on the radio. That is the first song I remember from the period during which I was imprisoned. »
[...]
« For the political prisoners, singing allowed us to harbour hope and a sense of fraternity between us, and many more things. It was our lifeline, our refuge. It seems that singing is something intrinsically human. »
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Run Run Went up North (Run Run se fue pa'l norte)

Song by:
Violeta Parra
Testimony by:
Ernesto Parra Navarrete
Experience in:
« Run Run ... On the big pitch, mild summer weather was in the air. But for us, aching from the torture, hungry, haggard, stinking, tattered, tired of our uncertain future, all we longed for was a breath of energy that would allow us to feel that we were still alive and that the feelings of our absent loving partners were present. »
[...]
« just for the sake of sending it. »
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Reflections (Reflexiones)

Song by:
Sergio Vesely
Testimony by:
Sergio Vesely
« Prison forced me to think quite a lot about my political past and my total commitment to an ideological cause, and its consequences. In this song (composed in the Puchuncaví Detention Camp and only sung for my friends and cellmates) I reflect on my role as a prisoner songwriter. »
[...]
« Today the man sings to the woman, »
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South-Eastern Storm (La Sudestada)

Song by:
unknown
Testimony by:
Luis Alfredo Muñoz González
Experience in:
« While I was in solitary confinement in Cuatro Álamos, one day I noticed there was a large room at the end of the corridor, which, overnight, the "dinos" (members of the DINA secret police) had filled with prisoners. At the end of the day, these comrades organised quite a "jamboree": talking, sharing information, asking questions and singing. It was a frenetic activity of solidarity, support, courage and warmth. »
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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. »
[...]
« Paper boat (barco de papel): We had a habit of wishing farewell to our comrades who were released or about to be transferred to other prisons. People who were not fortunate enough to be included in the group would gather around those who were about to leave, a ritual that sometimes included singing Julio Numhausser’s beautiful song “El barco de papel”. The first verse goes like this: “Se va el barco de papel por el mar de la esperanza, llevando un montón de sueños y los niños no lo alcanzan. Se va, se va y no volverá. Se va, se va a la libertad. (The paper boat sails to a sea of hope, carrying dreams and children can’t reach it. There it goes, there it goes, and it will never return. There it goes, there it goes to freedom.”). »
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You Can Blame Me (Échame a mí la culpa)

Song by:
José Ángel Espinoza, aka Ferrusquillo
Testimony by:
Marcia Scantlebury
« Mexican songs - and this one in particular - have always moved me. When I shared a cell with Miriam Silva, a young woman who belonged to the Communist Youth, arrested by the DINA when she was handing out leaflets on the street, we killed time in an organised fashion to keep ourselves from getting depressed and overcome by anxiety due to an unknown fate. »
[...]
« Then Miriam showed them the scrap of paper on which I had written the words to the song, and that she had hidden in her bra before leaving Cuatro Álamos. Studying the paper, they each had their theories, imagining the words might be conveying a hidden message blaming someone outside the country, or something like that. But Miriam insisted that it was only a way to exorcise our fear and give wing to dreams of love and freedom. That was how my family found out that I was alive and singing. »
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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. »
[...]
« And the fact that they should choose precisely that song, 'To Be Seventeen Again' was like going back to the time of the Popular Unity government. They did it to traumatise you. But they didn't succeed that much, because when I sang I felt that tremor, that humiliation, but I also thought about him, Carlos, and suddenly I even managed to forget that I was singing because I had been ordered to; I even felt inspired for a moment. »
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