Tuesday, 22 November 2016

MÍSIA & FADO: SENHORA DA NOITE'S SAUDADE

Mísia
Today, The Grandma is travelling to Bucarest, the capital of Romania on The Orient Express. The Grandma likes reading press every morning to know what is happening around the world. Her favourite tool is Twitter and she has been reading about a missing girl in Barcelona.

It's difficult to understand a teenager's brain. It's an age full of influences and they perceive a simple mistake like a great fail. Every case is a different story but, although The Grandma is sure that this pretty girl isn’t going to read this post, she would like to demand her only one thing: return home, return with your beloved family and friends. You need them and they need you.

In Portuguese, there is a beautiful word to explain how you feel when you’re far away your beloved people or your beloved country: saudade. There's also a beautiful kind of music: fado.


Fado was inscribed in 2011 on the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

There are lots of incredible, popular and wonderful singers but The Grandma wants to talk about one of them, her favourite, the best in her opinion: Mísia.

More information: Mísia Official Website

Mísia  was born in 1955 in Porto, one of the most important cities of Portugal. Mísia is a polyglot. Despite singing mostly fado, she has sung some of her themes in Spanish, French, Catalan, English, and even Japanese.

Mísia's mother was Catalan, from Barcelona. She used to be a cabaret dancer, which accounts for many of the influences that shaped her music: tango, bolero, the use of Portuguese guitar with accordion, violin and the piano. Mísia’s father was Portuguese. Mísia lived some years between Oporto and Barcelona and grew up under the influence of these two different cultures.

Throughout her career, Mísia developed a new style: she modernized Amália Rodrigues's fado, shocking orthodox audiences by adding to the traditional instruments, bass guitar, classical guitar and Portuguese guitar, the sensuality of the accordion and the violin, and borrowing their finest verses from the greatest Portuguese poets.


The only thing that matters is to feel the fado. 
The fado is not meant to be sung; it simply happens. 
You feel it, you don’t understand it and you don’t explain it.

Amália Rodrigues

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