Saturday, 27 September 2025

Marcia Sedaka visits friends in São Paulo, September 2025


I met Marcia Espindola circa 2005, at a vynil record fair in a parking lot that used to be posh Cine Rio Branco, on Avenida Rio Branco. We started a conversation by chance while she was handling a box filled with long-plays and stopped at a Sylvia Telles recording. She said something about it and I agreed with her for both of us were secret Miss Telles' fans. Since then, we met countless times in both São Paulo or Rio. 

Marcia was born and have always lived in Rio de Janeiro, but her maternal grandmoher lived in São Paulo, so many a time, while still a girl, she had the chance to spend her holidays here. So Marcia ended up creating a bond with this ugly city. Now, since the Covid 19 pandemic Marcia hasn't turned up in Sampa, so it was high time she'd come. 

She panned a visit to São Paulo in mid-September and asked me if I would come along with her on some of the visits she had planned. She wanted to meet singer Denise Duran, who's the baby sister of 1950s sensation Dolores Duran and have been living in São Paulo since 1962. We arranged a date with Denise in an eating place in Pompéia and here are some of the photos we took on the afternoon of 19 September 2025

Beto Abrantes, a cultural agent who specializes in recorded music and restoration of art of all sorts was kind enought to join the party and make the day really special. 

Marcia Espíndola aka Marcia Sedaka, Beto Abrantes & Denise Duran at Padaria Trigo & Company, on Avenida Pompéia, 655, on the afternoon of Friday, 19 September 2025.
Beto Abrantes, Luiz Amorim aka Carlus Maximus, Marcia Sedaka & Denise Duran.
Beto photographs Denise Duran while she autographs the long-play she recorded with Marisa in 1961. See Dave Gordon's singles on the table... 
Beto is hell-bent in getting his best footage of Denise Duran signing her LP for him... 
Marcia looking at the camera & Denise checking out her cell-phone. 
Beto tells something funny to Denise & Marcia while Luiz is making faces for the selfie.

Marcia wanted to visit Centro Cultural São Paulo aka Centro Cultural Vergueiro to see how the Oneyda Alvarenga Night Club works. She had sent them a letter (read it below) and someone called Edson Marçal de Assis promptly answered her. 
Dear sirs

My name is Márcia Espíndola, pop music researcher and small-time vinyl collector. I found out about Oneyda Alvarenga Nightclub through Otavio Mesquita's TV show.

I'd like to schedule a visit with you when I'll be in São Paulo from  17 to 26 September 2025. I was really flabbergasted when I saw the amount of records and magazines you have in your department. What should I do? I'd love to see your collection and be able to listen some of your records. 

Do you have anything by the singer Marisa Barroso? She has a song one can't find anywhere called "Piano a Quatro Mãos". That would probably be it.

Yours sincerely, Marcia Espindola
Edson Marçal & Luiz Amorim at the CCSP

I was impressed with the lecture Edson Marçal gave us, Marcia Sedaka & Carlus Maximus on the afternoon of 24 September 2025It's hard to imagine that there are still people like him in 2025. It felt like we were back in the 1950s. Seeing is believing. If someone had told me, I wouldn't have believed it.

Marçal told us the story why the CCSP record collection is named after Oneyda Alvarenga (1911-1984), who was a student at the São Paulo Conservatory of Drama and Music under Mário de Andrade (1893-1945). Andrade started a gathering of recording material since the early 1920s in order to make up a Public Collection where people could use. Due to political intervention, Mario had to quit his project and before he left the interprise he called upon Oneyda to go on with it. 




Monday, 28 April 2025

First Thoughts about being 75-plus

Hello, everyone! I hardly ever address myself to an especific group in mind but to the Universe at large, as it has become fashionable to say, lately. 

I sort of think about my own life as being divided in chucks of chronological sequences. Now I try to zero in on the subject of 'growing older'. Something that happens after you reach the mid-70s.  

In my case I noticed I sort of weaker than before 2 or 3 years. 



Monday, 23 December 2024

Friends who have already departed

Death is part of Life. Having been born in Marília-SP, a small city of 60,000, I was used to attend funerals since I was a small boy. Most people then died at home, and were mourned by relatives in their own living rooms. During a wake people usually left their front door open to welcome anyone who cared to go in and have a look at the deceased in a casket set at the centre  of the parlour. and pay their respect for those who remained. It was a 24-hour event. It was sort of a 'free-for-all' affair, so whenever I saw a little crowd nearby a home, I suspected there was a funeral taking place and whether I knew them or not I felt free to go in and check it out. 

I remember when my Father's aunt called Tia Nenê died in 1955. Four years later, in 1959,  my Mother's father, Giovanni Battista Darin, died at the ripe age of 87. That was an event that marked my life considerably. 

When kids died, we, children, felt the sting of death more dramatically. I don't remember having had friends who died when I was a child, except for my cousin Moacyr's only daughter called Marília, who died of when she was only 2 months old. I can never forget her little white casket sitting at the top of the stairs of Moacyr's living room on 4 July 1954

In 1960, when I was 11 years old, my family moved to São Paulo, a huge city. In a big city, people didn't mourn their dead in their living room...so Death is invisible. People die in hospitals and most are mourned at private or public parlours. It seems to me that there is a deliberate effort to avoid mourning people, unless they are celebrities like Elis Regina in 1982 or Ayrton Senna in 1995. 

I think Nino, was the first friend I had who died. He was murdered in early 1977, when he was only 28 years old. I only knew about his death one year later, in 1978, when I met a friend of his in town and he told me the sad news. 

Here is the list of my friends who died through the years:


1. Antonio Gonçalves Filho aka Nino (28) (28 April 1949) died on January 1977. 

2. Amira Shelhot  died on February 1983. 

3. Antonio Carlos Faria aka Totó (5 April 1951) died on 10 July 1998; 

4. Maria Gouveia (22nd April 1948, in Portugal)  died on 19 September 1998, in Sydney

5. Benjamin Grieve       died on 2nd November 2003, in Sydney

6. Ariovaldo Skrapec (54) (4 September 1950) died on 16 August 2004

7. Luiz Antonio Amorim (9 August 1961) died on 30 August 2009, in Marília-SP

8. Paulo Naoto Tyba * 7 July 1951; died on 7 June 2010, in Curitiba-PR.

9. Silvia Paula Jentsch (1st February 1942) died on 13 August 2010;

10. Ricardo Augusto Hypolito aka Cacau (7 April 1971) died on 2nd January 2014;

11. Mirian Almeida Pinho Rosa (5 February 1945, in Rio-DF) died on 23rd June 2015;

12. Maria de Lourdes Pelaes aka Malu (59) (November 1948) died on 19 March 2018;

13. Walter Teruo Tsutsui (74) (22nd August 1947) died on 16 April 2021;

14. Thaís Matarazzo Cantero (30 May 1981) died on 11 January 2023;

15. Vander Loureiro (5 June 1929, in Avaré-SP) died on 29 August 2024.

 

The day Amira Shelhot died in February 1983, I had to contact some of her friends like Beryl Davis, who was the last person she had seen on Friday night at her home on 2 Porter Avenue, Marrickville, Sydney. 

Friday, 29 November 2024

New Zealand

Our 747 inaugural fight Buenos Aires, Argentina to Auckland, New Zealand touched down at Taunga Rererangi o Tāmaki-Makaurau Airport on Monday, 7 September 1981. We had skipped Sunday altogether. 

Silvio with two bottles of milk we got at the local grocery shop. I found them quaint for they reminded of São Paulo in the early 1960s, when milk bottles were still in use in Brazil. Since then they had been substituted by plastic bags or cartons
Richard and Silvio straighten up some bedding in the early morning before breakfast.
Silvio plays the toreador to Richard's counter-attack. Richard's secretive dream was to have become a professional ballet dancer. Richard had some friend or connection in Denmark, just like Silvio, who had spent a year in Hamlet's home-country. 
This is the view we had from the beach house we stayed. 
Beautifully green the hills near the beach on the Tasman Sea
Myself & Richard climbing down from a family mixed business shop at this resort beach we spend 2 days. Black Goofy, Richard's beloved dog is on the right... 
Luiz, Richard Bruce  & Goofy strolling down the hill in green New Zealand. 
Valo, Richard's Chilean friend took this picture which reminds a bit of the Beatles' Abbey Road sleeve.
a silhouette of Valo (Osvaldo) who had been living in New Zealand for a few years. 
Note left by Silvio written in Portuguese using the cyrillic alphabet: Luiz, fomos a uma exposição e jantar na 38 Albert Street, paralela a Queen Street.  Seria bom se você pudesse vir. Otherwise, você pode entrar pela porta do banheiro do fundo. As luzes acesas te guiarão. Se vc ligar o Richard vai te buscar de carro. Silvio, 07 August 1981. (Silvio made a mistake here; he thought it was August but it was actually September). 

This was a dinner given by Warren, Richard's friend on the first day we stayed in Auckland. I had gone out by myself and missed the dinner altogether. The date is completely wrong. Silvio didn't realise we were in September...not August as he wrote. We had departed from Buenos Aires in the morning of Saturday, 5 September 1981; due to different time zones, we actually arrived in Auckland on the Monday, 7 September 1981, having 'lost' a whole day in the process. 

Our trip from Buenos Aires to Auckland skirting the South Pole was really out of the ordinary. Silvio managed to get into conversation with a New Zealander man who worked as a travel guide to a large group of New Zealand senior citizens visiting Chile, Peru, Bolivia and Colombia. This group had some youngish men too. As the trip was long many fellows left their seats there was a little crowd of mostly young men assembled in an area of the plane one could look outside through the windows and see if it was dark or light. I remember the plane took off around 8:00 am and as we were flying against the sun soon it became night... 

As it was the official inaugural crossing of the south Pacific up to the Tasman Sea, Aerolineas Argentinas offered smaller bottles of Argentine wine to the travellers. Soon everyone was high on Argentine wine. That's when Silvio approached me with this slim N.Z. fellow called Bruce Richard Hewet, who had lived in Denmark and apparently danced ballet while in Kopenhägen. 

Richard didn't like Bruce, his first name so he introduced himself to me as Richard. He was probably happy in talking about Denmark to Silvio who had been an exchange student in Kopenhagen only 2 years before. Richard knowing we were heading to Sydney to start a new life, invited us to stay at his house in Auckland for some time...and maybe we'd change our minds and settle in New Zealand instead of Australia. 

When we got off at the Auckland Airport; the hall was packed with a crowd which had gathered to welcome the NZ travellers who had taken part in the first official visit to South America. TV cameras were everywhere. New Zealand was then living thrilling times for the controversial Springbok Tour had been ongoing for almost a month now having split the whole country in two: those for and those against the Apartheid regime of South Africa. 
Another message written by Silvio in Portuguese using the Cyrillic alphabet.

Tuesday, 26 November 2024

Silvio & I cross over to Argentina

After leaving Porto Alegre around 2:00 pm on Wednesday, 2nd September 1981, we rode countless hours in that bus until it crossed the border with Argentina in Uruguayana-RS and kept on riding until twilight. It must have stopped again before night fall, but I can't recall it at all. 

On Thursday, 3rd September 1981, early in the morning, our General Urquiza bus stopped for refreshment and we noticed the scenery was a complete different one. No more red earth from Brazil but the conspicuous dark soil of Argentina. By the car plate colour one knows we're in Argentina.
  
Silvio and I engaged in conversation with this smiling fellow during the bus journey. He told us his story: he had met an Argentine girl in São Paulo during Carnaval 1981, fell in love with her and now he was going to visit her and possibly get married there. I don't remember his name but he was gracious to have taken photos of Myself & Silvio occasionally. 
Paraná, the capital city of the Argentine province of Entre Rios, located at the eastern shore of the Paraná River, opposite the city of Santa Fé, capital of the neighbouring Santa Fé Province. We were all happy to wake up to a new day in a brand new country: Argentina. See that tower in the back of us in the photo? It is Entre Rios Province's government house - Casa de Gobierno, Paraná, Provincia de Entre Rios.
It was twilight some time after we left Paraná, the capital city of Entre Rios province. We made ourselves comfortable in our seats for soon we'd be entering our third night on the road. After sleeping for a few hours I woke up about 3:00 am and felt restless; somehow I knew we were approaching Buenos Aires, Latin America's former largest city. And I was right...traces of a sprawling city started showing up and I knew I couldn't be wrong: we were about to get to our destination. I woke Silvio up and told him I suspected we were at the end of our long bus trip. I couldn't account for all our steps at this juncture but a little after 4:00 am on the Friday morning of 4 September 1981, we were out on the streets of Buenos Aires trying to get hold of a cheap hotel where we could stay for about 24 hours. 

It may seem strange but since we arrived in Buenos Aires, I forgot about my camera altogether. I didn't take any pictures of ourselves in the big city. 

I can't recall how but I guess Silvio was the one who found a hotel we could stay for one day: Hotel de las Americas, on Calle Liberdad, 1020, only a block away from the great Avenida 9 de Julio. We went into our hotel room but were too excited to try and get to sleep off the rest of the night. I don't remember how we spent those 24 hours. I only know Silvio went out by himself after the break-of-day and with an address written on a slip of paper proceeded to search for the abode of a young Argentine young man he had previously met in Peru or Bolivia. I stayed back at the hotel or went out to suss out the neighbourhood not too far from the great 9 de Julio Boulevard

Silvio was back at the hotel after a few hours accompanied by his Argentine friend; we three went to a coffee shop but he didn't stay too long. At twilight time we went out to eat in a real Argentine restaurant. Both of us ate Argentine beef. I wasn't a vegetarian then... and I thought there was too much meat in my plate. This restaurant was on 9 de Julio concourse. 

As I was worried about how to get hold of a van ('micro' in Argentina) that would take us to Ezeiza Airport in the morning, we sauntered down the great Boulevard until we got to a spot where vans left to the international airport which is quite far from downtown Buenos Aires. We were supposed to be at Ezeiza at 7:00 am. I knew if we missed the van or the plane we'd be in dire straits or Desolation Row. After talking to one of the vans' drivers and making sure how far the Airport was and how long the trip would take we decided to go back to our hotel room. 

On Saturday, 5 September 1981, I woke up really early. I slept by turns. We asked the concierge to wake us up at 4:00 in the morning but I was wide awake much earlier than that. We ended up leaving the hotel at 4:00 and walked up to where the vans started from. I was glad everything had turned out all right. 

Myself boarding Aerolineas Argentinas 747, at Ezeiza, ready to take on the whole world... 
Myself saying goodbye to South America. I wouldn't do it again for nothing in the world.
Silvio ready to go into the bowels of Aerolineas Argentinas huge 747 jet, on our way to Oceania. 
On our way to the South PoleNew Zealand... goodbye South America!
Serviette used at Aerolineas Argentinas trans-polar flight from Buenos Aires to Auckland. 
South Pole air ways: from Perth to Johannesburgh; from Melbourne to Rio de Janeiro; from Auckland to Ezeiza in Buenos Aires. 
Hotel de las Americas on Calle Libertad 1020, corner with Calle Marcelo Torcuato de Alvear, where Silvio & I stayed for one night, Friday, 4 September 1981, is only a block away from Avenida 9 de Julio, where we would get our van to Ezeiza Airport in the early morning of 5 September 1981
We left Uruguaiana at twilight of 2nd September 1981, and arrived at Paraná, capital of Entre Ríos province in the morning of 3rd September 1981
Silvio & I covered a lot of ground inside that Argentine bus having left São Paulo on Tuesday night, stopped next to Florianópolis in the early hours of Wednesday; then stop over at Porto Alegre at Noon. Left Porto Alegre at 1:00 pm; crossed the Argentine border after dark; had a stop at Paraná (here in the map is a city opposite to Santa Fé) on Thursday morning and finally arrived in Buenos Aires at the dawn of Friday
the distance between Uruguaina and Paraná, the capital city of Entre Rios. 
Entre Ríos Province is in red...just north of Buenos Aires Province... 

Monday, 18 November 2024

Silvio & I stop in Porto Alegre, on our way to Buenos Aires, in 1981.

After our Argentine bus left the bus terminal, it went southwest down Avenida Rebouças in order to get Rodovia Raposo Tavares or Castelo Branco, I don't remember which. When the bus passed in front Escolas Fisk and CCI, the English school both Silvio & I worked for a few weeks, we looked at it and could see a female teacher doing her thing. It looked like Melanie, a Jewish girl we had met at the tearchers' training course and was teaching her first group there. We waved towards the place but only we knew we were being silly and prepared to get to sleep for the trip would be long. 

At around mid-day on 2nd September 1981, our Argentine bus stopped in downtown Porto Alegre, and we had the chance to get off and walk for an hour around town... We took as many pictures as possible...  
Wednesday morning, 2nd September 1981.  Only a few hours before we reached Porto Alegre. After having ridden the whole night, the General Urquiza bus made a stop in a resting area from where one could see the island in which Florianópolis is located. It was still dawn and we were glad to step out in the open and breathe the pure air.
When we finally stopped in downtown Porto Alegre, we were told the bus would stay put for an hour. So, me & Silvio went out into the city to see as much as we could... 
Mercado Público (Public Market) is the building on the right; Palácio do Comércio is on the right; the cranes in the background belong to Guaiba's Harbour.
Follow me to the Public Market on the other side... 
I followed Silvio through the crowd and buses... children liked his antics.
Silvio next to a queue of red VW beetles customized as taxi cabs...
Porto Alegre's Bus Terminal - Estação Rodoviária Central... See that fellow's bell bottom flares; he was a little old-fashioned for this was 2nd September 1981
Silvio was intrepid in his search to get to know interesting places in downtown Porto Alegre... it looks we made it to the local financial district.
Judging by the signs of Sloper and C&A we must have been in the shopping district
a very young shoe-shine boy hawking his trade...
A sandwich-boy advertises he buys old gold (ouro velho). I didn't know gold aged... 
downtown Porto Alegre with both Public Market & Palace of Commerce next to the Harbour.
The distance Silvio and I walked from Porto Alegre Bus Terminal on the right and Public Market on the left.