Cristina Branco: Redefining the boundaries of fado
Published: 02:11 PM,Nov 10,2024 | EDITED : 07:11 PM,Nov 10,2024
Fado – the traditional Portuguese singing style – defies definition; it is purely and uniquely fado. So it was a huge privilege to attend the sold-out performance of ‘Mais Que Fado’ with Cristina Branco at the Royal Opera House of Musical Arts on Tuesday evening this week.
An outstanding feature of the evening was the professional sheen stamped on the presentation by Cristina and fellow musicians. The show opened in pitch darkness while performers dressed in black walked silently on stage. A single spotlight penetrated from above upon the singer as she began, alone and soul-stirring.
‘Fria Claridade’ immediately allowed the resonance of Cristina’s clear, warm voice to come through the gorgeous Portuguese diction and modulation of her voice so passionately. Surely fado could be sung in no other language while maintaining its unique style! At times, fado becomes the Zarzuela of Portugal.
The ‘guitarra’ or Portuguese guitar usually used to accompany fado has 12 steel strings in 6 double courses and is a pear-shaped mandolin-styled instrument, more like a lute. Tonight it was played throughout the performance by Bernado Romão with astounding dexterity.
Cristina welcomed the audience to her concert as pianist, Luís Figueiredo, introduced, ‘Liberdade’ (Fado Alexandrino do Estoril) in a slow chordal bass, clearly influenced by his jazz background, while the simple yet lyrical vocal melody suggested a soulful folklore. Similarly, the tender folksong accompanied by guitarra, ‘Senhora do Mar Redondo’ from her 2016 album, ‘Menina’, “resulting in unique and innovative interpretations of fado”, showed Cristina’s control over her whole range, to a strong Latin rhythm from piano and double bass. Each song tells a story, melancholic and heartfelt.
“There are 180 original fado songs, but only 6 forms of poetry - dating from the 1820s and usually performed in cafés, restaurants and bars - and I have fado in my veins” we heard, as Cristina launched into, ‘Não Hà Só Tangos em Paris’ (There are not only Tangos in Paris) by Silver Martins. Now the stage was bathed in red light as a traditional tango rhythm on piano and bass supported a
short guitar improvisation. Double Bass player, Bernado Moreira betrayed his affiliation with the ‘Hot Clube de Portugal’ in Lisbon, with some fine jazz techniques in his improvised fingerwork.
Cristina left the stage for the instrumental, neo-baroque, ‘Ciombra Fado’ from Luís’ hometown, which featured some stunning technique on piano and flamenco-like folk strumming from Romão on guitarra, later developing into a broad and contemporary filmic style.
A baffling white cloud, like a billowing candlewick bedspread, descended from the flies, and Cristina slipped back on stage with an evocative, trance-like entry over a very slow and tender motif on piano. Bass player Moreira interpreted an exquisite solo, high in the string range, finishing with a poignant, compelling vocal line.
There was a delightful song with traditional Beguine rhythm, a charming folksong, a contemporary pastiche of classical accompaniment, and an operatic spoof over quasi-waltz piano rhythms.
The overhanging cloud mysteriously disappeared as the pianist played a 2/2 stride bass accompaniment. (A conundrum to ponder over, or a deeper metaphor for the tragedy of fado that is life?) Cristina Branco performed, ‘Água e Mel’ with unfailing accuracy in her placing and intonation. To sing for 80 minutes with a break, maintaining an intensity and quality of voice control without faltering once is an unbelievable feat.
Cristina introduced her incredible band, said how lovely it was to be here in Muscat and shared her music and culture. She said thanks to all mothers, grandmothers, and especially her own mother to whom she dedicated the Soul or emotion of her songs.
Finally, she would sing the oldest fado of all with the heart-rending pathos of her distinctive, sublime delivery. ‘Meu Amor é Marinheiro’ (My Love is a Sailor) from Lisbon 1850, and was first recorded by Branco in 2001.
A standing ovation was clearly not enough to bring the musicians back on stage; after a steady hand-clap for some considerable minutes, Cristina eventually reappeared with the words, “It is not only my job, it is my passion to sing fado, and the silence in fado is what makes fado”.
“Este Silêncio” began with just piano and voice, so controlled, so minimal it barely spoke. There was just enough vibrato in the clarity of Cristina’s singing to reflect the deep emotional depths and delicate nuances demanded by the song and the genre.
After a brief moment, Figueiredo lent into the body of the grand piano and created a tribal beat, a primal rhythm—joined by bass and guitarra - which was sustained behind a haunting vocal line, demonstrating for the last time tonight Cristina’s enormously wide vocal range in, “Tonada de La Luna Llena” (Simón Díaz).
And then there was pure silence. The audience left, spellbound by an evening’s impossible charm.
An outstanding feature of the evening was the professional sheen stamped on the presentation by Cristina and fellow musicians. The show opened in pitch darkness while performers dressed in black walked silently on stage. A single spotlight penetrated from above upon the singer as she began, alone and soul-stirring.
‘Fria Claridade’ immediately allowed the resonance of Cristina’s clear, warm voice to come through the gorgeous Portuguese diction and modulation of her voice so passionately. Surely fado could be sung in no other language while maintaining its unique style! At times, fado becomes the Zarzuela of Portugal.
The ‘guitarra’ or Portuguese guitar usually used to accompany fado has 12 steel strings in 6 double courses and is a pear-shaped mandolin-styled instrument, more like a lute. Tonight it was played throughout the performance by Bernado Romão with astounding dexterity.
Cristina welcomed the audience to her concert as pianist, Luís Figueiredo, introduced, ‘Liberdade’ (Fado Alexandrino do Estoril) in a slow chordal bass, clearly influenced by his jazz background, while the simple yet lyrical vocal melody suggested a soulful folklore. Similarly, the tender folksong accompanied by guitarra, ‘Senhora do Mar Redondo’ from her 2016 album, ‘Menina’, “resulting in unique and innovative interpretations of fado”, showed Cristina’s control over her whole range, to a strong Latin rhythm from piano and double bass. Each song tells a story, melancholic and heartfelt.
“There are 180 original fado songs, but only 6 forms of poetry - dating from the 1820s and usually performed in cafés, restaurants and bars - and I have fado in my veins” we heard, as Cristina launched into, ‘Não Hà Só Tangos em Paris’ (There are not only Tangos in Paris) by Silver Martins. Now the stage was bathed in red light as a traditional tango rhythm on piano and bass supported a
short guitar improvisation. Double Bass player, Bernado Moreira betrayed his affiliation with the ‘Hot Clube de Portugal’ in Lisbon, with some fine jazz techniques in his improvised fingerwork.
Cristina left the stage for the instrumental, neo-baroque, ‘Ciombra Fado’ from Luís’ hometown, which featured some stunning technique on piano and flamenco-like folk strumming from Romão on guitarra, later developing into a broad and contemporary filmic style.
A baffling white cloud, like a billowing candlewick bedspread, descended from the flies, and Cristina slipped back on stage with an evocative, trance-like entry over a very slow and tender motif on piano. Bass player Moreira interpreted an exquisite solo, high in the string range, finishing with a poignant, compelling vocal line.
There was a delightful song with traditional Beguine rhythm, a charming folksong, a contemporary pastiche of classical accompaniment, and an operatic spoof over quasi-waltz piano rhythms.
The overhanging cloud mysteriously disappeared as the pianist played a 2/2 stride bass accompaniment. (A conundrum to ponder over, or a deeper metaphor for the tragedy of fado that is life?) Cristina Branco performed, ‘Água e Mel’ with unfailing accuracy in her placing and intonation. To sing for 80 minutes with a break, maintaining an intensity and quality of voice control without faltering once is an unbelievable feat.
Cristina introduced her incredible band, said how lovely it was to be here in Muscat and shared her music and culture. She said thanks to all mothers, grandmothers, and especially her own mother to whom she dedicated the Soul or emotion of her songs.
Finally, she would sing the oldest fado of all with the heart-rending pathos of her distinctive, sublime delivery. ‘Meu Amor é Marinheiro’ (My Love is a Sailor) from Lisbon 1850, and was first recorded by Branco in 2001.
A standing ovation was clearly not enough to bring the musicians back on stage; after a steady hand-clap for some considerable minutes, Cristina eventually reappeared with the words, “It is not only my job, it is my passion to sing fado, and the silence in fado is what makes fado”.
“Este Silêncio” began with just piano and voice, so controlled, so minimal it barely spoke. There was just enough vibrato in the clarity of Cristina’s singing to reflect the deep emotional depths and delicate nuances demanded by the song and the genre.
After a brief moment, Figueiredo lent into the body of the grand piano and created a tribal beat, a primal rhythm—joined by bass and guitarra - which was sustained behind a haunting vocal line, demonstrating for the last time tonight Cristina’s enormously wide vocal range in, “Tonada de La Luna Llena” (Simón Díaz).
And then there was pure silence. The audience left, spellbound by an evening’s impossible charm.