San Magemeno / Yannis Saoulis, Rita Papamarkou
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Credits
Rita Papamarkou-Quist……….lead & backing vocals
Ben Quist…………………….backing vocals (6), finger cymbals
Ekrem Sahin………………….violin, ney
Fred Abbingh………………….accordion
Henrik Holm…………………..upright Bass
Ronald Veerman………………guitar
Monique Lansdorp…………….violin (5)
Henk Wanders………………..percussion
Yannis Saoulis………………..bouzouki’s, tzouras, baglamas, out, guitar
All music arranged, produced, performed & engineered by Yannis Saoulis.
Photos: M. Schelvis, M. Hatzimichael.
Mastering, replication: Sony DADC
Recording, mixing, digital premastering: IAN Productions
Translations: Hero Hokwerda, Karin Westerdiep & Lies Zondag.
Illustration: Yannis Saoulis
© 1996 The Netherlands
The songs
Content
- Ionia, to o me omega……….(Y. Saoulis)
“Ionië, with the ‘o’ of omega.” Instrumental introduction dedicated to Ilias Venezis.
- O kapetanakis……….(Traditional, arr. Y. Saoulis)
“I’ll never again be in prison with Kapetanakis.”
This traditional song is very old (from before 1910). It originates from Asia Minor. After the exodus of the Greeks from Asia Minor the melody of this song is taken over by the rebetes and sung to various lyrics. In these lyrics the name of “Kapetanakis” often occurs. As a person Kapetanakis was one of the most authoritarian en most feared wardens of the prison on Aigina (small island near Athens).
- Fovamai mi se haso……….(I. Papaioannou)
“The tension of losing you keeps me awake and the night is drawing out.”
- O Xemangas……….(V. Papazoglou)
I’m fed up with the nargile. Fed up with hashish. From now on I’ ll comfort my pain in a woman’s hug, in a glass of wine.
- Sala Sala……….(traditional, arr. Y. Saoulis)
First stanza: “Leave the fish on the fire and come ouside so that I can see you.” Second stanza: “If I could, I would give you my heart.” Third stanza: “Take me on as a hand in your cafe to wash up the glasses and the nargile for you.” Fourth stanza: “Away with all cares (I drink) to the health of the company.”
Traditional 19th-century song from Asia Minor. To the melody of this song, too, various lyrics were sung.
- O choros tis Antroulas……….(Y. Saoulis)
Instrumental intermezzo for little Antroula who spends her first few days in the village of Frenaros on Cyprus.
- I Acharisti……….(V. Tsitsanis)
The grief you gave me when you left me was too much for my broken heart to bear. RAGE! Rage is all I feel for you.
- Apokliros……….(V. Tsitsanis)
“Unhappy I wander abroad crying for my mother whom I haven’t seen for many years.” From 1950.
- San magemeno to mialo mou……….(D. Gogos/Bajianteras)
“Bewitched my spirit flies about and every thought is for you. I cannot find any rest and in my sleep I dream of you, my little princess. Therefore have pity on me and don’t leave me alone any longer.”
- Choros se 5/8……….(V. Tsitsanis)
“Dance in 5/8.”
- I meraklides……….(V. Tsitsanis)
“Those who have a zest for life do not know what to do. They drink to ease their passion. They have got love and money and do not care to make merry all year long. One should enjoy one’s youth before dying.”
- O amanes tis kalis nychtas……….(traditional, arr. Y. Saoulis)
“It is time to wish good night to my good company and leave.”
This is an old “Amanes” (from the word “aman”) from the begining of this century. Amanedes are improvisations on a generally short rhymed text.
- Manaki mou……….(traditional, arr. Y. Saoulis)
“Oh girl my hearth is aching for you. You should know that things will not turn out well for you wherever you go.”
Traditional song from Asia Minor from before this century.
- Mikra asia, chaire……….(Y. Saoulis)
“Goodbye Asia Minor.”
The title is the same as the title of the book by Ilias Venezis (1974). Instrumental ending.
Text
San Magemeno (As if bewitched…)
‘The bastards…’ he says to himself. He looks down. His shadow is as black as his overcoat. American make.
‘The bastards…’ he says once more. The dagger-wound in his left side is beginning to hurt again. He rolls a cigarette and thinks back to the scuffle. ‘The baglamas!… The baglamas!…’ Startled he searches his coat. The baglamas is still in his right pocket. He takes it out and starts strumming its strings with his right thumb. He lowers his head, looks absent-mindedly at his yellowed fingers, the strings, the greasy sleeve, the small sound hole… A whole world, a whole life, a host of memories! He hums a tune:
“He who is born a ‘meraklis’* doesn’t know what to do;
He drinks and gets drunk to recover from the pain…”
He starts singing louder…, the sound of bouzoukis, tsourases, baglamases, guitars reaches his ears. All together they sing:
“‘Meraklides’ love and have money to hand,
and they don’t care if they make merry summer and winter…”
Aide!!!… Oh!!!… Aaah!!!… Everyone is dancing. And he dances with them. His overcoat flares out dervish-like with the swirls of his dance together with its shadows. His raised arms are waving threateningly towards the sky. Song and dance are now reaching the intensity of an ecstasy. Angrily and sadly they sing:
“People cannot live without passion;
they should enjoy their youth before they close their eyes…”
Aide!!!… Oh!!!… Aaah!!!… He staggers, falls… silence… He looks around him. Nobody! He gets to his feet, brushes the dust off his caot, picks up his baglamas, starts strumming the strings and hums again:
“As if bewitched my thoughts take wing…”
The sun is setting, dusk begins to gather. His shadow is growing longer and darker and disappears behind the reddish horizon. He thinks:
“If that stab had been a little higher…”
No wounds, no falls. He would have been with the others now.
Yannis Saoulis
* A meraklis is someone who loves life with passion and zest.