All language subtitles for They.Shot.the.Piano.Player.2023.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.800MB.x264-GalaxyRG

NEW YORK 2009

STRAND BOOKSTORE

TODAY AT 6:00 P.M. JEFF HARRIS
PRESENTS THE PIANIST WAS SHOT

Can you hear it well? Yes?

Well, let's get started.

Meet Jeff. Jeff Harris.

- Hello.
- Author of the book

that we are going to present tonight.

Well, so do many of you,

I read Jeff's article
in The New Yorker

about the bossa nova fever
in the 1950s,

and I liked it so much...

- Thank you very much.
- ...that I was left wanting more,

so I asked Jeff for something else.

I encouraged him to write
a book about this magical music

that captivated the world
and, above all, many of us

here in the United States.

Well, that was the initial idea.
- Yes...

And it seemed simple enough.

However, the story
complicated, let's put it this way.

- And so much.
- And in my opinion, for the better.

Well, I could go on and on,

but I prefer
Jeff to tell you all about it.

So, without further ado....

Teacher.

Hi. Where do I start...?

Well, logically
when he received Jessica's offer,

I accepted without thinking twice,

above all, because it included

three trips to Rio de Janeiro.

It was a unique opportunity
to spend time listening to music,

something I love to do,
meeting with musicians

and simply stroll
through my favorite city.

- River.
- I could even not use

the return ticket
and stay there for a while.

Great.

Well, as soon as my article was published
my article in The New Yorker,

my mailbox started to fill up with packages

of records of all types of music,

not only Brazilians,
but from all over the world.

I'll get them. Thank you.

It was five days before I left for Rio,

so I locked myself in the house
to catch up and listen to music.

One day,

a piano solo in a recording from the 60's
from the 60's caught my attention.

I consulted the disc notes

and I saw a name that until that moment
unknown to me:

Tenório Júnior.

I wanted to know who this guy was,

that pianist
I had never heard of.

What else had he done?

What was he doing now?

But apparently,
he hadn't done anything in 30 years.

I imagined that he would surely have died

like most musicians in the 1970s
in the 1970s:

due to drugs or a car accident
or due to a car accident

while on tour.

Ah, here it is!

This one here, please.

The next day, I met for a drink with my good friend
a drink with my good friend João,

who is one of the people I know
who knows the most about Brazilian music,

and I often turn to him for help.

He gave me the names of people
I could talk to

and also their telephone numbers.

And as it always does,

he brought me some discs as a gift.

...of the 1960s,

that it was out of print,
impossible to find.

I already have this one.
By the way, who is this pianist?

I have never heard of him.
Who is Tenório Júnior?

Tenório was one of the greatest exponents of
exponents of samba-jazz

during the bossa nova years.

He was the jazziest
of Brazilian pianists.

And what happened to him?

He died,
and it's a pretty strange story.

I was in Buenos Aires,
playing with Vinícius de Moraes,

when one night,
suddenly disappeared.

No one heard from him again.

And how do you know he's dead?

Well, it happened
during the military coup in Argentina.

Was he involved in politics or something?

I don't know...

Not to my knowledge.

No. Not that I know of.

I would like to know more about him.

This was the Beco das Garrafas.
The alley of the bottles.

Was this Beco das Garrafas?

This is where samba-jazz was born!

Why did they call it that?

Because so many people came
that the neighbors couldn't sleep

and they started throwing bottles
bottles at everyone.

There were only four small clubs.

Some were even whore bars.

There was Bottle's club,
and there, across the street was Little's...

There, see? They were from Alberico Campana,

an Italian immigrant
who had no money.

I didn't even know
that Portuguese was spoken in Brazil.

-Don't tell me!
- Yes, I thought we spoke Spanish.

He could tell you
a lot of stories.

- Let's talk to him.
- There is nothing left of those times.

It was a golden age
that lasted only ten years.

It was all new kids.

The bossa nova movement
movement began timidly.

It did not catch on immediately.

Only among the same people
who made the bossa nova...

but it started to grow and grow...

And there were as many as 60 people inside
and 1,000 people outside.

-Mother!
- Out of 1,000 people, 300 were musicians.

That's why I think it was historic,

because there was a radical change
in the music of that time.

That's all, folks!

Ella Fitzgerald sang for four days
at the Copacabana Palace,

and the four days he ran out of there
out of there without an encore to Beco.

Everyone who came to Rio de Janeiro
passed by the Beco.

It was a wonderful city,

everybody happy, everybody cheerful...
Nothing was happening.

It was a totally strange thing,
completely new.

The letters were brand new.

The music was completely new.

The way of singing
was completely new,

and there was a guitar
that nobody played like that either.

Music was not made like this.

Before and after Chega de saudade,
it was something else,

another roll, clearly.
That's what happened with Chega de saudade.

I went crazy with it all,

with that poetry...

And so it was,
Chega de saudade changed my life.

Go away from me, sadness,

and tell her

that without it, it cannot be.

Tell him in a prayer

that she returns.

After that song,
nothing was ever the same again.

The song was called
Chega de saudade, No more blues,

and brought together the holy trinity of the new Brazilian sound
of the new Brazilian sound:

João Gilberto,

the poet Vinícius de Moraes,
who wrote the lyrics,

and Antonio Carlos Jobim,

who was in charge of the music
and arrangements.

It was 1959,

bossa nova in Brazil
and the nouvelle vague in France

changed the history
of music and cinema.

And when the Brazilian musicians
arrived in New York

for his legendary concert
at Carnegie Hall,

There was no stopping him.

American musicians
went completely crazy

for Brazilian music:

Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughn,

Coleman Hawkins, Dizzy Gillespie

and, when Stan Getz recorded
with João Gilberto,

unseated the Beatles
Beatles from the top of the charts.

Even Frank Sinatra
even recorded two albums with Jobim,

which is not surprising,

since the precursors of the bossa nova

had been members of the Frank Sinatra and Dick Farney
Frank Sinatra and Dick Farney's fan club in Rio

back in the 1950s.

The whole world began to sing and dance
to the rhythm of Brazilian music.

There had been nothing like it
since the mambo boom of the 1940s.

Everybody talks about
about the influence of bossa nova

in American music,

but bossa
was also influenced

American music,
especially West Coast jazz.

When Elis Regina was asked
which singer had influenced her the most,

Do you know who said?
- No.

- Chet Baker said.
-Don't tell me!

By the way, tomorrow they are screening
a documentary about Vinícius de Moraes,

produced by his daughter.

It could be interesting.

If you want me to stop crying,

tell time to stop passing.

Time cries my same cry.

He and I, but so much...

so that you won't be sad,

What can I do? I sing.

After Tenório's disappearance,

my father stayed for a while
in Buenos Aires.

In fact,
I had an Argentinean girlfriend at the time.

The penultimate one, just before Gilda.

Another coincidence was
that the Buenos Aires counselor

when all this shit happened
was my ex-husband Rodolfo.

My father asked him for help
to find Tenório,

but it was impossible.

Has anyone told you about Malena?

Malena? Who is Malena? Your wife?

- Well, not exactly.
- He was married, wasn't he?

He had many children...

Yes, four,
and I think they were expecting the fifth,

but he was also in love with Malena.

And why was he arrested?
Why was he killed?

No one knows for sure.

Apparently, Malena was not feeling well

and he went to the pharmacy
to get some medicine, and that's it.

It just vanished. Gone.

Disappeared.

I know her.

Do you want me to call her?

Malena?

Did you know that Tenório was
with another woman when he disappeared?

Yes, of course.

Jeff,
Gilda was Vinícius' last wife.

Just yesterday I was talking to Jeff
about Tenório Junior.

It was a mystery,
something very distressing for Vinícius.

It was very rare for a day to pass

without Vinícius talking about Tenório

and that terrible episode.

He died with that anguish
Tenório's disappearance.

Malena does not want to talk about it.

She has been silent for 35 years
out of respect for the family

and he is not going to start talking now.

I know some musicians
who were friends of his.

If you want, you could try to locate
his widow through them.

Well, rather, to his wife.

As the body was never found,

did not receive any compensation
as a victim of the dictatorship.

He does not even receive a pension.

Can you believe it?

Wow...

- Hello.
-Are you still around?

-João?
- I just talked to a friend

who knows Tenório's wife,
Carmen.

He told me that he lives
in a small town in the middle of nowhere.

It does not even have a telephone.

You have to call a public phone booth.
Do you understand me?

"He disappeared
under strange circumstances."

"Tortured and killed".

A few days later, I caught a flight
to Tucson to meet Bud Shank,

one of the great jazz stars of the West Coast
jazz stars of the West Coast along with Chet Baker.

He was the first to mix samba and jazz
and jazz in the mid-1950s.

Hello.

On the way home,

Bud told me about
of those pioneering recordings

with Brazilian guitarist Laurindo Almeida
Laurindo Almeida in Los Angeles.

I just arrived in Rio, I met...

I met a lot of people.

It was during the carnival days.

I arrived on the day I started.

And I didn't know anyone in Rio.

The whole time I was there
was carnival.

There was carnival everywhere.

24 hours a day.

So I couldn't really know

whether Rio was always like this
or only during carnival.

It was like being in paradise.

I had never danced
in the street in my life.

I have never done it before
nor have I done it since.

Walking

I walked into a club
that was right next to my hotel.

I was very impressed with his playing,

which was very refreshing.

With a more contemporary approach,
more youthful.

It was something new and wonderful...

Imagine my amazement

when he told me
that this pianist was Tenório Junior.

I don't know if Tenório was his first name
or his last name.

I just...
Everyone called him Tenório.

As I told you,
he spoke English very well.

He was an intellectual.

I could talk about many subjects
and, above all, about music.

And he was younger than Jobim
and all that group.

I really enjoyed playing with him.
We talked a lot about samba.

He even went so far as to tell me
that he wanted to take it to the United States

to play in his band.

...which never happened.
Instead, Sérgio Mendes came.

Tenório no.

Sérgio Mendes
wanted to be a pop star.

That was evident at the beginning.

Listening to him talk,

at some point I realized
that I had no idea

of what happened to Tenório.

I decided to tell him that I had disappeared

and that no one saw him again,

who never found her body.
found his body.

I had no idea about all that.

Wow, that's a horrible story.

- Yes, it is.
- Tenorio...

How strong...

Right?

What a horror...

I liked him a lot,
and I liked him as a person.

Why Tenório?

He drove me back to the airport,
but he didn't speak the whole way.

Two weeks later, I returned to Rio.

I've arranged a lot of interviews
a lot of interviews,

the who's who
of Brazilian music.

Susana de Moraes also called me.

He wants you to go to dinner tonight.

Apparently,
Malena has changed her mind

and now he wants to talk to you.

Malena?

Malena, the girl who was
with Tenório in Buenos Aires.

You want to talk to her, don't you?

Aha.

But first we met with Ferreira Gullar
with Ferreira Gullar.

Who is that?

He is a great poet.

He wrote Poema sujo, Poema sucio.

He was a close friend of Vinícius
and was exiled in Buenos Aires

when Tenório disappeared.

It could give you
a lot of interesting information

and lives just
a couple of minutes from your hotel.

After you unpack your bags,
we'll go see him. You think so?

Yes, that's great. Let's go.

Vinícius always went to Punta del Este.

Then to Mar del Plata
and then to Buenos Aires.

During the summer,
I lived in an aparthotel.

One day I went to his apartment

and overheard a conversation
with a young woman,

who was Tenório's girlfriend.

And he went in there and said:
"Tenório has not yet returned."

She told us that she was not feeling well

and that Tenório went down
to the pharmacy to buy medicine,

disappeared and did not return.

Then Ferreira Gullar
told us something incredible.

When I arrived in Buenos Aires,

a son of mine had a psychological problem
and disappeared...

He left home and disappeared.

I was in a state of despair

and I talked to an Argentine acquaintance...

A friend of Ferreira's told her

that he knew
a psychic named Haydée.

And then he told me the following:

"Mr. Gullar,
I know you don't believe in these things.

But if you want,
I can give you his phone number

to see
if she can find her son.

I said, "Okay, give me the phone."

I called her: "I am so-and-so,
Beltrana's friend.

I am calling you
because my son is missing.

When I told him the name,
his tone of voice changed,

a strange voice came out and said....

Ferreira thought
that his son was dead,

but she assured him that this was not the case.

I said to her:
"But Madame Haydée, I am an exile,

I can't call the embassy
without ending up in jail.

If I go to the embassy..."

Ferreira's son
had spent two days on the street

until someone saw it.

As he only spoke Portuguese,

taken to the Brazilian embassy.

A place to sleep was prepared for him,

waiting for someone to
for someone to come and identify him.

Just as the psychic had said,

the boy was "underground".

So I told this story to Vinícius
to Vinícius.

I said, "Vinícius, if you want,
I can call Mrs. Haydée

to locate Tenório Júnior".

I grabbed my address book
and called Mrs. Haydée.

"Mrs. Haydée,
I am Ferreira, the Brazilian".

I said, "I have another problem.

It is as follows:
a Brazilian pianist has disappeared".

Tenório Júnior.

Because the name had to be said

in order to locate the person.

It is a mind to mind contact.

I said the name: "Tenório Júnior".

When I said the name,
the voice changed again.

Really?

At that moment I got scared

that I knew
that the girl was there beside me.

Then I said to her:
"Mrs. Haydée, what about Tenório?".

I did not wait until the third day,

and on the second day I called
Mrs. Haydée.

When I called and she heard my voice,

before I said anything,
he shouted in a terrible voice:

"Mr. Ferreira, you have been murdered!

He has been massacred," he told me.

I went back to Vinícius' house
to tell him the news.

When I told him what Mrs. Haydee had told me on the phone, he said
had told me on the phone,

remained motionless in the armchair

and then tears began to fall
tears from her eyes.

And he began to say:
"My friend, my friend...".

Vinícius was restless,
worried, and I suggested:

"Buy this girl a ticket and send her back to Rio de Janeiro.
and send her back to Rio de Janeiro".

She was very scared.

I had gone there on a pleasure trip

and, all of a sudden,
he found himself in a dreadful mess.

All these difficulties
to find Tenório,

in my memory,
are mixed with the military coup.

I think that's why nothing was ever known,

because the Argentine dictatorship
was not interested

that she was accused of having murdered a musician, a pianist
a musician, a pianist,

and in the most brutal way.

And they never returned the body,

tried to cover it all up.

That night I went
to Susana de Moraes' house

to meet Malena.

During dinner,

I asked him
why he had changed his mind

and had decided to talk to me.

He replied:

"Because Tenório was an artist
and he didn't deserve to be forgotten".

We were beginning
a love story

when it all happened.

No one knew I was going there.

I couldn't say that I was going
with a married man to Punta del Este.

So we decided to flee.

Vinícius had invited him.

Vinícius was making
a summer tour that he always did.

It was great there in Punta del Este,

but he had his mind in the clouds,

for their personal situation.

He had to come back

and resolve a situation that perhaps,
unconsciously, did not want to resolve.

Who are they?

This is him with Azeitona.

And Mutinho, who was the drummer.

They were the ones who played with him
on the Vinícius tour.

Azeitona died, but Mutinho
lives in São Paulo, like Toquinho.

Okay.

When I arrived in Buenos Aires,

There was a climate of dread in the air;

a place completely under siege.

An emergency situation,
such as a war.

There were barricades,
machine guns all the time...

Wherever you went, it was like that.

You couldn't take two steps
without having a machine gun on you.

But he liked to play in Buenos Aires.

I knew a lot of people.

I knew Piazzola.

We went to dinner with Piazzola
one night in a restaurant,

but Tenório was not well.

Because for him, someone who had,
I think, five kids, a wife...

I had a tremendous mess on my mind.

Back from the theater

and Vinícius had prepared a dinner

to celebrate the end of the tour
at a restaurant he always went to,

because in the morning we were going back to Brazil.

And he said, "I don't feel like going at all."

So I said, "Okay, we're not going.

Besides, my head hurts a little.
Go get something next door.

There was a place that sold sandwiches.

"Bring you something and we'll stay here."

There, everything was fine. I've been waiting for it.

And an hour, two hours went by...

and nothing.

Tenório had gone to the corner
and did not return.

Then I started to feel sick,
breaking out in a cold sweat.

I didn't sleep all night...

The next day, we started looking for him.

And then Vinícius said to me:
"You're going to take the plane."

"I'm not leaving.
I'm going to stay, he's going to show up."

And I stayed there for about three days.

Afterwards, Vinícius put me on a plane.

"You leave and I stay here,
trying to find him.

I went to live in Petrópolis.

My mother had a country house
and I stayed there.

I spent eight years there.

I was in shock for a long time.
for a long time.

He was unable to speak.

I did not speak for many months.

And then, little by little,
I started to get my life back on track.

And I started to make
botanical illustrations,

then to work with plants.

And today,
I am a botanical illustrator,

people even know me
for my illustrations and everything.

It all happened very quickly.

It was a short time,
four months or so.

It was more like a dream
that was never fulfilled.

But I loved watching him play.

He sat at the piano
and the world would stop.

When I played it was
like a kind of enchantment.

His music enveloped everything.

Tenório was special...

very special.

Then I asked Malena

if someone who was investigating Tenório's death
Tenório's death,

a policeman or a journalist,
had ever spoken to her.

Never. No one in 30 years.

Never. No one in 30 years.

Hi, do you have something to write something down?

Yes, in hand.

3, 4, 9...

- 3, 4, 9...
- 3, 1, 5...

- 3, 1, 5...
- 9, 6, 6 again, 9...

- 6, 6, 9...
- It is the public telephone

of the town where Carmen lives.

- Okay.
- And here's the big news:

João Gilberto has agreed
to talk to you tomorrow.

Thirty minutes, but without recording anything.

Now you owe me two dinners!

How little!

Two dinners, sir.

Yes, two dinners!

I arrived half an hour early
and I was walking around.

not to arrive too early

nor, of course,
late for my appointment with João Gilberto,

the man of whom Miles Davis said

that sounded good
even reading a newspaper.

I was 17 years old when I first heard
João Gilberto playing for the first time

Chega de saudade
in that special way.

I thought I had finally
I had finally understood modernity

and the essence of the history
of Brazilian popular music.

It made me read literature
in a different way,

see movies in a different way,
feel life differently...

In other words, it changed everything.

I remembered that Tenório
was planning to record with Caetano

when he returned from Buenos Aires.

I have always had great respect
for Tenório,

for his musical ability,

the privileged ear for music
for music that he undoubtedly had.

This made me have great respect for him.

I remember a train trip
I took with Tenório from São Paulo to Rio.

We spent the whole night talking
in the carriage, without sleeping.

I was playing Ela é Carioca

and had some doubts about the harmony.

He taught me, he explained,

told me the chords,

and I was surprised by that direct contact
with the music.

After Chico, Gil and Caetano,

only Milton Nascimento was left

to complete
the four MPB giants,

Brazilian popular music.

Just when I was waiting for
Milton to tell me where he was

when he heard Chega de Saudade
for the first time,

told me with a surprising story.

I consider myself a son of cinema.

He told me that when he saw Jules and Jim
at the movies, he was so excited,

who could not sleep that night

and wrote three songs

that would later appear
on their first album.

I think Truffaut changed the lives
of many people.

Before I left,
it occurred to me to ask Milton

if he had known
or had any relationship

with Tenório Júnior,

and at the mere mention of his name,
she became emotional.

He was a great musician.

When you arrived at their house,
you became part of the family.

He was a family man,
with a lot of children,

happy with their children

and that joy that was in the house.

His piano fascinated me.

I would not know how to define Tenório.

He had style,
but his sound was different.

When this album came out
came out and arrived at my house,

I couldn't get it off
from my old record player.

Tenório played in some of the
of the best records of his time,

but only recorded one as leader.
It was in March 1964.

He was 23 years old.

A few days later,

a military coup put the brakes
modernization of the country

and set in motion a dictatorship
dictatorship that would last more than 20 years.

Good afternoon, may I speak to Carmen?

Call Mrs. Carmen!

Mrs. Carmen, telephone!

It must be around here somewhere.

Carmen led a simple life;
she made and sold candy.

I am still married to this day.

To be a widow,
there would have to be a corpse.

Today is like the day after
after his disappearance,

nothing was heard.

It was my mother
who found out about it on television

that Vinícius's pianist had disappeared
had disappeared

and came home to tell me.

I was pregnant with my little boy

when Tenório disappeared

and an aunt of Tenório, who was a seer,

came to my house to see the child

and said to Tenório's sister:

"The child is beautiful,
but the father is not going to know him".

How did you meet?

I had seen Tenório play
at the time of the Little Club.

I used to go there on Sunday afternoons.

I used to go to Beco das Garrafas
and listened to a lot of Embalo.

And we met on the last day of '66.

When I was introduced to him, I said:
"Ah, you are the famous Tenório".

We met there, got married.

With the last salary I received,

I quit my job to get married
and bought the rings.

And that's how we got married,

by taking courage,

thinking that everything would be all right
with God's help.

Then, after we got married,

work was not very constant either.
was not a very constant thing.

We went through many difficulties, many.

He was very radical,
he was not an easy person.

I would meet someone and not go,

stopped playing in the middle of the concert,

he would leave at halftime and disappear,
things like that.

He was a little crazy, but he was
extremely polite person,

a super sweet person.

The only thing Tenório knew how to do
was music.

I examined a photo of Tenório

in which he looked a lot like Bill Evans.

I told Carmen about it and she said yes,

who was one of his favorite musicians.

When Bill Evans was in Brazil,

did some concerts at the Municipal
and we went to see him.

Afterwards, Claudio Piolho brought
Bill Evans

to the Fisherman's Bar, in Barra.

And Tenório was too,

I had to go because I loved Bill Evans,

so we went there.

I remember Bill Evans
sat next to Tenório and me....

Tenório spoke English very well.

Then, they started talking.

They talked a lot.

...for me, the classic, totally.

Those beautiful solos,
and it doesn't have to be double bass,

can be anything.

It is simply someone who expresses himself
in a melodic and beautiful way.

Then Carmen began to tell me

the difficulties
he had to face

after Tenório's disappearance.

I tried to put myself in their situation.

Discovering at the same time
that Tenório had disappeared

and that he was not alone when it happened....

I thought they had never had
the opportunity to argue or fight

or separate or reconcile.

Before I left, Tenório's sons came by the house.
came by the house.

I clearly remember his voice,

playing the piano
when there was a birthday.

That she said,
playing the piano on birthdays.

When I think of him,
that memory comes to me.

But I have no further recollection.

I remember the atmosphere in the house
in the house more than him in particular.

The atmosphere of the house, the people...

I remember the instruments,
those big double basses...

The house was always full,
there were always people,

were always playing in the living room.

I remember the exact day
Roberto went to the airport

to pick him up from his trip.

It was Elisa's birthday.

That day, I remember
the house was all decorated.

For a long time,
when the doorbell rang,

we expected it to be him.

From 10 to 12 years old,
we are still waiting.

Afterwards,
we cease to have any hope.

It is no longer possible.

Elisa wrote a letter
to the president.

I don't remember writing it.

How would it have been
if he hadn't disappeared,

if I had had my father alive
to this day?

What would my relationship with him be like?
his relationship with his granddaughters?

What would it be like to have a father?

I had a strange feeling
at one point,

because I was watching
their children playing nearby and I thought:

"My God, they are Tenório's grandchildren,
of course, whom he never got to meet."

Tenório's story
began to interfere with my work

to the point of making me forget
the book I was writing.

Fortunately,
João was in charge of reminding me.

What time is it?

It's the opportunity of a lifetime.

Paulo Moura and João Donato,
the two best musicians in Brazil,

recording together.
-Yes!

It's something you don't see every day,
especially a gringo like you.

When there are no witnesses,
I'll give you a kiss.

Hello.

Beautiful.

During lunch,

these two teachers recalled

many stories of the golden age of bossa nova
of bossa nova,

from when Donato
and João Gilberto, still teenagers,

arrived in Rio,

Paulo Moura played on Tenório's album,

so I asked him about it.

With Tenório, I learned many things.

He was the best pianist in town.

At that time Tenório was

one of the most important musicians
of bossa nova.

I miss him very much.

I wish he were alive.

It was a great loss
to our music.

I still listen to his musical touch.

It was a very delicate touch.

I spent another week
doing interviews for the book.

They cut short a golden era in one fell swoop.

The best music in the world
was being made in Brazil

and, from one day to the next,
they were done with her.

Dictatorship and money, there was no place for innovative music.
for innovative music.

They only wanted three-minute songs.

Tenório's death
was a kind of metaphor

of the death of Brazilian music.

And he was also a victim of two dictatorships:
Brazil and Argentina.

Who rose to power
through military coups backed

by the government of your country.

It was.

The day before I left,
I went to talk to a musician,

a friend of Tenório's
Carmen had told me about

and that I had been collecting for years

many of Tenório's compositions for a songbook.
for a songbook.

Tenório was a gentleman.

He was very shy, he spoke softly.

He appeared like a thunderbolt
in Brazilian music here in Rio.

He went to Beco das Garrafas.

He played once and recorded.

It was phenomenal.

Even today it is still phenomenal.

If he didn't like something,

vanished.

That's how he earned his reputation
reputation of being a professional

that always disappeared.

This hurt him professionally.

Suddenly,

I realized that these scores

that were on the floor were by Tenório
and we were stepping on his compositions.

My God!

This... is it Tenório's?

Yes, they are all yours. I don't compose.

Thank you.

Hi, Jeff. I'm Jessica. How are you?

I hope the trip went well,

and I can't wait to read
what you have written.

Any idea when I will be able to do it?

Listen, by the way,
if you're not too jet lagged,

there is an incredible Cuban pianist

playing tonight
at the Village Vanguard.

But if you're too tired...
- I'll be there.

...don't worry
because I can always invite

to someone much sexier
and handsomer than you."

Sexier than me? But what do you say?
- Goodbye.

Jessica was dying

to tell you what's new in our book
about our book,

but at that moment I could not stop talking about Tenório
talking about Tenório:

his life, his music and his tragic end.

I couldn't stop talking about him.

I've had enough to drink.

Jeff, if you keep it up,

you're going to have a hard time finding
your way home, honey.

Don't worry.

I was already pretty drunk
when I arrived.

Excellent!

Fantastic!

Hold on, Jessica, I'll be right back.

But where are you going?

Aren't you going to play the piano?

Hello, maestro.

Thank you.

Oh, unbelievable.

Well, sleepyhead, it's time to get up!

Here you go.

Breakfast of champions.

But you're so good. What's that?

I adore you.

Listen, if you don't remember anything
about last night, don't worry.

There is nothing to remember.

You spent all night...

Mmm, that's good...

...talking about a pianist
who was murdered.

What was his name?

Who? Ah, yes, Tenório.

Tenório, that is.

I wanted you to tell me about our book
and you kept talking about...

what's-his-name.
- Tenório, Tenório Júnior.

Yes, so nothing happened.

Did I try to kiss you?

Listen, it is impossible to seduce someone

who thinks he is
a Henry Kissinger know-it-all.

What?
- Basically,

you told me that we were to blame
of all the military coups

in the 1960s.

When I tried to defend myself,

saying that I had nothing to do
with all that, you refused to listen to me.

So I had no choice
but to lay you down on the couch.

Oh, I see.

You know what?

What?

I think that's the book
you should write.

What?

But I'm already halfway through the other one.

Yeah, but all your thoughts and attention
and your attention are focused

in that man's story.

I mean, you are possessed.

Take it from me, that's the book
you have to write, without a doubt.

You're going to love John.

He used to write for The Washington Post.

We published his book last year

and is his most important work to date.

What you tell me about this pianist
is by no means surprising.

Murdered
hundreds of thousands of people

during those years in many countries.

As you can imagine,

the vast majority were innocent people

that had nothing to do with

with politics
nor with any subversion.

In 1954, General Stroessner staged a coup d'état in Paraguay.
Stroessner staged a coup d'état in Paraguay.

That same year there was another coup in
in Guatemala,

where 60,000 people disappeared
during the 36 years of the war.

Wiped off the map
440 indigenous peoples

and more than 200,000 people died.

In El Salvador and Nicaragua,

war and dictatorships

left more than 150,000 dead.

Ten years later, a military coup put an end to
democracy in Brazil.

In 1971, it was Bolivia's turn.

Two years later, in 1973,

Pinochet's coup ended

with the government
Salvador Allende's government in Chile.

That same year,

another coup put an end to a long period of
of democracy in Uruguay.

In 1976,
after the military coup in Argentina,

30,000 people disappeared.

How many atrocities...

That pianist was only one
of the many who died

during Operation Condor.

At the time, none of this was
was known. Everything was confidential.

Top secret.

The governments of Brazil, Argentina,
Paraguay, Chile, Bolivia and Uruguay

held a summit to collaborate

and combat any element considered subversive.
considered subversive.

They could be exiles, dissidents,

politicians, military
union or student leaders.

Even the press, the clergy and children.

No one understood why someone who had fled
who had fled his country

could be killed
or disappear into another.

Since Latin America was a hotbed of dictators
of dictators, no one investigated.

Only years later did Operation Condor
Operation Condor came to light.

When? How?

The Curia of Sao Paulo, to help the families of the
the families of the missing,

founded an office called Clamor.

One of the cases they found
was that of a Uruguayan woman.

His son and his wife
had gone into exile in Buenos Aires.

They were arrested,
tortured and killed.

They had two young children
who disappeared.

Wow.

Grandma wanted to know something about them,
if there was any way to find them.

One day,
received a call from Caracas.

One woman claimed to have seen
the children in the photo

in a square in Valparaíso.

At first,
the story did not seem very plausible:

two Uruguayan children,
disappeared in Argentina,

as seen by a Venezuelan woman

in a Chilean plaza.

Even so, they decided to follow the trail.

Two days later,

Clamor's person returned
to school,

this time with the grandmother of the two children.

God, I can't believe it.

It is horrible.

Pure evil.

This was the first case involving three of the
three of the countries involved

in Operation Condor.

Since then, there have been countless similar
of similar cases.

There are still people
who are trying to find or, at least,

to find out something about their parents
or their children.

All this was done with the
with the approval of the CIA

and the U.S. government.

Now.
- Don't be sad,

There have also been exceptions.
-Really?

There was a young dreamer who,

fed up with our tendency to defend
democracy only for our country

and dictatorships in the rest,

went to Cuba to fight with the revolutionary rebels
with the revolutionary rebels.

That young man was William Morgan,

fought in the mountains with the rebels

and became a commander and hero of the revolution.
and hero of the revolution.

And what happened to him?

Castro had him executed
by firing squad

two years after the triumph of the
of the revolution.

One week later,

was back in Rio
to continue working on the book,

only now the book was about Tenório.
about Tenório.

I met my friend João for dinner.

He wanted to show me a historic place.

This is where it all began
one afternoon in April 1956.

Jobim worked as an arranger
near here, at Continental.

After leaving work,

used to stop by for a beer
for a beer.

I was sitting at that table.

Vinícius was having a drink

with a friend who knew
that he was looking for a composer

for his new work
and insisted that he meet

to this young man named Jobim.

Vinícius told him that he had written

a retelling of the Greek myth of Orpheus

set in a Rio slum

and that he was looking for someone
who could write the music.

And there will be some money, right?

But how do you say that to the poet?

You don't say that to a poet.

With the salary I was earning,

Jobim could barely make ends meet,
so he accepted.

A few days later,

Vinícius went to Jobim's apartment

to listen to some of the
of the first compositions

I had written.

And so the happiest couple was born

of Brazilian music.

Vinícius... I would give anything
to be able to talk to him.

I have so many questions...

By the way, I have to tell you something about the book,
I have to tell you something about the book.

Yes?

My relationship with Tenório Júnior
began on the beach.

He was quite a character,

a very special person.

Tenório was a clean person.

He was off the charts.

If he had been born in medieval times,
he would have been a saint.

He was very "white" as a jazzman,

passed too quickly
and had an ending that did not correspond to it.

He deserved to be alive, with us.

The greatest jazz pianist in Brazil was undoubtedly Tenório.
in Brazil was undoubtedly Tenório.

The last time I was with Tenório

was in my studio,

and he told me he was going to give a concert

in Buenos Aires with Toquinho and Vinícius.

I remember talking to him
about the situation in Argentina,

that it was complicated.
I said, "My God, Tenório.

You have to be careful."

He was wearing black pants,
a black shirt,

a huge black beard, and he said to me:
"No, nothing happens, we are with Vinícius,

We're going to do a concert.
I wasn't worried at all.

After Tenório's disappearance,

someone from Argentina called me and said:

"Roberto, I come from Buenos Aires.

I was detained there and we met.

He was there.
And I said, "Why did they stop you?".

He said, "I don't know,
they grabbed me in the middle of the street

and they questioned me several times.
I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing here.

Tenório interpreted everything very well.

And it caught my attention
because of the assertive approach

that he gave to Brazilian music,

using the kind of sound
used by Bill Evans.

He was an excellent pianist.

Tenório's hand playing the piano
was something beautiful,

his hand always in the right place.

He played very well.

I miss it.

Look, can I confess something to you?

He is missing, I miss him.

You are here.

Who I really needed to talk to

was with two survivors
of the group that went to Uruguay and Argentina,

Toquinho and Mutinho,

but they were on tour outside Brazil.

Tenório's last concert
before returning was in Buenos Aires,

so instead of waiting
waiting for them to return,

I decided to meet them
at the place where the events took place.

I took advantage of my stay in Buenos Aires

to meet
with friends of Vinícius and Tenório.

In Buenos Aires,

I interviewed Vinícius' penultimate wife
of Vinícius, Marta.

I was a few blocks away

of the places where Tenório had been
Tenório had been the night he disappeared.

The police station was
minutes from the hotel,

and that is where Tenório had spent

the first two nights
of his interrogation and torture,

before he was transferred to ESMA,

the Escuela Superior
of Mechanics of the Navy.

Thanks to the support of the Secretariat

of Human Rights
of the Argentine Nation,

I was able to visit
the infamous ESMA.

This is where Tenório
spent the last days of his life.

It was in operation
during the entire period of the dictatorship,

from 1976 to 1983.

Oh, fuck.

My goodness...

My God...

That's horrible.

Yes! Bravo!

Tenório was a great accompanist
and an excellent soloist.

He was very critical,
with a great sense of humor.

We came from a paradise: Punta del Este.

We stayed there for a month.

During that month,
he was safe, away from Brazil.

I was going through a personal crisis.

The vacation was over,
he had to return to his reality,

but that crisis did not surface
not a single day in Punta del Este.

The atmosphere was very tense
in Buenos Aires,

there were tanks in the streets.

It was like a bomb
that would explode at any moment,

but we had no idea
before we went there.

The police would come in
and searched the rooms.

It happened to us twice at the hotel
where we were staying.

Tenório was wonderful,
he was a wonderful person.

Chevalier, very intelligent,
but also very childlike.

It had something very, very pure,

was a lot of fun.

We laughed a lot,

and when we played it was wonderful.

He brought another person, Malena, with him.

We knew Carmen existed.

I must have been happy with both of them.

He played well, he was happy,
I was not sad.

I met up with a friend
I met in Punta del Este

and we ate and drank wine.

Then, on the way back, I got a little scared.

I saw that there was a lot of commotion in the street
and I was afraid of the police,

like everyone else.

I finally arrived at the hotel
and it was a tremendous relief.

At 3 or 3:30 in the morning,

Malena calls me:

"Have you not seen Tenório?".

I tell him, "No, no."

Then he said to me:
"It's just that he left and hasn't come back.

He went to buy me a sandwich
and he hasn't come back yet.

Then, at 4:30, Azeitona arrived.

At 6:00 a.m. or so,

everyone was in the lobby of the
in the lobby of the Hotel Normandie.

We were all worried, scared.

A friend of mine, Malena and I

We took a car and went to the morgue,

to the hospital and everywhere else.

We asked around, but found nothing.

We came back very hopeless, very much so,

and returned to Brazil.

For a long time afterwards,
I was dreaming about Tenório.

When you see a person,

to a relative, to a friend who dies,

you say goodbye to him.

Now, when it disappears,
you don't forget it.

You don't forget it anymore.

Yes, of course.

I started to write a melody,
a song.

It's a beautiful song,
but I wrote the melody with...

Mutinho, I found the lyrics.

I looked it up on the Internet.

The melody was written by Mutinho
and I wrote the lyrics.

Peter went on his way,

Chico asked to stay,

Tenório went out alone at night,

disappeared, no one could explain it,

other friends have left.

Maintaining its ideals

between truth and delirium,

some sowed nostalgia
in exile,

others will never return.

We have found the lyrics.

How beautiful. This song is beautiful.

I miss this song.

Asking around here and there,

I managed to locate
two of Tenório's friends

who had arranged to meet him the night of the concert.
the night of the concert.

But when they arrived,
Tenório had already left, never to return.

"The show revealed a surprise
for many viewers,

the brilliant performance
of Tenório Júnior.

The pianist played an exceptional piece

denoting the most authentic expression
of modern Brazilian music".

Tenório never got to read this review.

Back in Rio,
I looked for Tenório's relatives

who could tell me
about their childhood and youth.

We had a neighbor who played
in the Brazilian Symphony Orchestra

and was his teacher.

He had this musical gift since he was a child.

He respected his father very much,

but I think he was very close
to his mother.

When it all happened,
she was devastated.

He had a stroke and became ill.

He did not stop looking for it,

even through Interpol,
but nothing, nothing, nothing.

Until an Argentinean granted an interview to Senhor magazine.
an interview to Senhor magazine.

He met with him and told him

that Tenório was murdered
inside the cell

shot in the head.

And in the end,
they seemed to have made a pact:

she died one day
and two days later, he did.

I often went out with him.

When he played somewhere,

as in Beco das Garrafas
in Copacabana.

He was a person completely disconnected
disconnected from everyday life,

very disconnected
from material things.

He was carried away by his music.

He said, "I know how to play the piano,
I don't know how to make money.

He had a very Zen way about him,

very Buddhist, without being so.

A person committed
to good things,

with the things of nature,

with a very simple life,
almost Franciscan.

He did not participate in politics.

He used to say: "What I like
is playing the piano, not politics".

Tenório and his cousin
Luiz Roberto, were very close.

They studied medicine together
until Tenório decided to drop out

and dedicate himself to music.

His father, affectionately,

although he was annoyed
about dropping out of medical school,

for he was proud
that he was going to be a doctor,

gave him a piano.

Carmen was the strong person
of the couple.

They had great economic difficulties,

but they always overcame them
with good humor.

Then, as they were out of money,

said to me, "I would like you to assist
Carmen with her pregnancy.

And in the case of the last two children,

it was I who brought them into the world.

For me it was very sad,

because the last delivery of her
I attended was

after he disappeared.

One day I was here at home
when I got a call saying

that there was an Argentinean corporal,

Vallejos,
in the editorial office of Isto é/Senhor.

Mauricio Díaz asked me to go there.

When he was informing us of everything,

Brazilian police arrived,
had surrounded the building.

They said, "Don't worry,
nothing is going to happen to you,

but we took the Argentinean with us.

Because he's talking too much."

My brother had no furniture in the house,

so he made himself cardboard furniture.

He once wrote to me saying
that he had renovated the furniture,

that I had painted them black
to change the atmosphere a bit.

He was very fond of yoga,

was very fond of Hindu philosophy.

He was very fond of meditation.

He played for himself, he played very well.

Whether there were people listening to him
or not, he played.

There was a piano here and a drum set
by the door of my room.

I slept to the sound of the drums,

to such an extent that I can sleep
with any noise.

I heard about the case on television.

On the Sunday program Fantástico
on Sundays, they gave the news

that it had disappeared.

I was very worried about my parents.

My father did not go right away
because my mother had a stroke

and was hospitalized.

So my father waited
for her to get better.

He went to Interpol, to the police,
but they knew nothing.

The year he died,

they called my father from TV Manchete

and they told him that there was an Argentinean,
Vallejos, who wanted to talk.

I always went with my father
to these interviews,

but this time he decided not to tell me
and went alone.

My mother fell in the house

and hospitalized,

and my father did not want to stay
there without her.

Then he started having a series of things.

He died on Thursday and she died on Saturday.

When I checked the dates,
I discovered that Tenório's parents

had died just
on the tenth anniversary

of his son's murder.

I worked for an organization,
an entity called Clamor.

That's where the first information
the first information

about a brazilian,
the pianist of Vinícius de Moraes,

who had been kidnapped in Argentina.

So I went to Argentina
to place a paid advertisement

in the newspaper La Nación
and then I went to the hotel bar.

The corner was full of windows.

There was a restaurant, a cafeteria
and a newsstand next door.

I showed a picture of him to the man,

who recalled: "That's the Brazilian!

And then he told me
that he was taken away in a Ford Falcon.

In Argentina, kidnappings used to be
used to be carried out in Ford Falcons.

It was confirmation
that he had been kidnapped.

Do you think he was abducted by mistake?

It is possible that he was mistaken
with someone else,

but was arrested
by the Argentine political police.

Then it was a political kidnapping.

Ten years later,

a guy named Vallejos explained that,

in fact,
Tenório was detained and murdered

at the Navy Mechanics School
of the Navy, Captain Astiz,

"the angel of death".

Greenhalgh told me
that a young Brazilian filmmaker

had recorded years ago
an interview with Vallejos

while making a short documentary
a short documentary about Tenório.

The process of obtaining testimonials

both the father's and Carmen's
took me a long time.

I had to gain their trust
to be able to make the film.

The first contact was difficult
because he didn't want to talk.

At that time,
his wife was ill.

And he was very attentive to her.

He looked like a very strong person,

but this whole story
left him devastated.

He was a man
who had served the state,

but when he needed this
to help him locate his son,

The State did not help him.

Rolling.

We had no money.

It took, I think, about three months.

in getting
to agree to record the interview.

Ten years later,

I decided to make a screening
at the Museum of Image and Sound

of Rio de Janeiro, to remember Tenório's
Tenório's disappearance.

I was told that there was a person,
a foreigner, who was looking for me.

That person was Vallejos.

At that moment, a very curious
a very curious process.

He would hang up the phone saying:
"I'll call you back in half an hour."

And he would change phones.

Rogério told Vallejos

that he was interested in recording an interview
an interview and Vallejos agreed.

But at the last moment,
Vallejos showed up asking for money.

He wanted $2,000 for the interview.

So I told him:

"I got into debt,
I spent money I didn't have.

I would never pay
to do an interview with you,

you have to do
the interview no matter what.

I kept in touch with Vallejo
and Mauricio Diaz, from Senhor magazine,

called me a day or two later.

I had decided to make a report

and published a ten-page
ten-page story plus the cover.

How did he die?

Who fired the shot?

While in the cell?

Did you witness it?

Hello!

During all this time,

there was someone for whom I would have given
anything to talk to him

and, even though he had been dead for 30 years,
it was as if he still had something to say.

I have not seen it yet,

but it seems that the interview

was made in Vinícius' apartment
the morning of the coup.

- Okay.
- That's why it was never issued.

- Okay.
- It's in 16 millimeter

and only one copy exists.
- Great.

Well, we all have a lot of concerns

because it is a very mysterious
very mysterious.

We leave the theater

and then I guess,
as he usually did,

went out to get something to eat,
a sandwich, and never came back.

Tomorrow night
will be a week old.

Nothing at all,
was totally apolitical.

He was a musician,
he only cared about music.

He led a musician's life.

For me it is a very painful moment,

not only because he was my friend,

but also because he was
an extraordinary musician,

a human being of the highest quality,

an incredibly sweet man,

with great serenity,
incapable of harming anyone.

And for all those reasons,

his mysterious disappearance

leaves us in a state of great distress.

We are all attentive
to any phone call.

I have practically never left the house
for this reason.

All that remained of Tenório were

fragments scattered in the memory
of a handful of people.

I'll never know if he went out for a sandwich,

medicines or cigarettes

when he disappeared.

But when people talked about him,

there were certain things

that were repeated over and over again:

was funny, smart,

pure, shy, ironic.

Among Tenório's papers,

I found a score dedicated
to his favorite Brazilian pianist.

His name is Viva Donato.

I think it's you.

There is only one Donato.

After so many atrocities,

I had almost forgotten what Tenório was,

above all, a fabulous pianist.

But also a friend,

but whom I will never meet

and with whom I will never be able to talk
about music over a beer.

No one can do it justice.

I hope this book will save him,

at least momentarily,

of oblivion.

Thank you.