This is going to be a very inexpert post about something I've only just discovered, find very beautiful, and want to know more about.

All on its own, it would be a reason to come back to Lisbon.

I'm talking about fado, a type of sung music that grew up in this city -- in fact, in the very part of the city where we're currently living.

I'd heard about inauthentic, touristy fado shows, and I'd heard that even the real thing weighs in at quite a price (it's a dinner-time experience, you see, so to listen, you have to pay to eat, and as all budget travellers know, the one meal you never eat out is dinner).

In light of all that, I really think the best place to start is the Fado Museum, just down the road from our apartment in Alfama.


We visited on Thursday afternoon.

Actually, we hadn't planned to visit right then, having just got back from Cascais, but we were forced out of our flat by the noise from the apartment above, where someone was ripping up the floorboards inches above our heads. (The following day, while we were busy in Belem, the owners had to come over because the upstairs renovators had punched a hole right through our ceiling... But the upside of that accident is that it forced the accursed floor-rippers to desist for the rest of our stay...)

Anyway, this is taking us away from fado. Or maybe not, since it's a genre that speaks poetically of real-life trials and tribulations...

I found the museum fascinating, and we were there right up to throwing-out time at 6 pm. Since then, I've been scouring YouTube for performances, and getting even more into it.

We started our visit by listening to some clips of performers talking about their art. Some spoke of fado-singing as a quasi-religious experience, whereby the performer is caught up in the song, and becomes the servant of the music, as it were. All of them spoke about passion, the importance of "the soul". Technique is important, but passion can make up for vocal inadequacies (as in the case of Alfredo Marceneiro, who was a renowned fado-singer despite his "small" voice and cigarette habit).

As this explanation puts it:

"Performing fado involves being able to pour out pure raw emotion in a very particular manner. This requires a certain maturity and, even though a number of fadistas start singing at a very young age and some do it brilliantly, many maintain that suffering is a compulsory rite of passage to becoming a good fado singer."

For contemporary performer Mariza, fado is "more than music, it's my life. It's the way I can explain what I feel about my world, my city, my country, my generation and our future."

A variety of exhibits in the museum illustrates the history of this music. The word "fado" probably comes from the Latin "fatum", meaning fate or destiny. Starting out as the music of the working classes and the marginalized, it gradually gained broader interest and social respectability -- so much so that the government felt it necessary to regulate and censor it. With the development of new technologies (film, sound recording, radio, and television) fado spread its wings still further. The contribution of Amalia Rodrigues is particularly important here.







The great thing about the museum is that there is lots to listen to, so you really start to get the flavour of this amazingly versatile art-form.

The accompanying instruments are typically two or three. The indispensable 12-string, round, Portuguese guitar provides the characteristic tinkly background. In addition, there'll be the "viola de fado" (actually a steel-strung, classical guitar) and perhaps a bass guitar. From one or both of these comes the very recognizable four-beat, thunk-thunk, rhythmic background.

Outsiders tend to think of fado as purely mournful, but this is not accurate. Many songs are musically upbeat and jolly (listen to this one by Marceneiro, for example). Some also feature sections of recitative (poetry spoken to a musical background).

But the core of fado is "saudade":

"The poetic universe of fado is dominated by the leitmotif of saudade, a deeply nostalgic feeling of longing and yearning for love, for one's homeland, or for a past that will never be recovered."

"Saudade" sounds very much like the German concept of "Sehnsucht", which conveys so, so much more than the nearest English equivalents ("nostalgia" or "longing").

Swept along in the music, I was reminded sometimes of French cabaret (Piaf), sometimes of keroncong, sometimes even of dangdut. How informed these connections are I've still to establish.

Whatever the style, fado songs are rhythmic and heartfelt. And there's something about the sound of Portuguese... The shush, the zhuzh, the trilled rrrrr... You couldn't sing fado in any other language, that's for sure.

Here are some of my favourites so far:

Amalia Rodrigues's Foi Deus, sung in her stunningly beautiful voice, really tears at the heartstrings:

"...If I sing,
I don't know what I sing.
A mixture of happiness
Longing, tenderness
And maybe love.
But I know that, singing,
I feel the same way as when
You are heartbroken
And the weeping that shows on your face
Leaves you feeling better..."

I also love her Primavera and Fado Portugues. (By way of contrast, here's Dulce Pontes with Fado Portugues. This one has an orchestral accompaniment, which I don't like nearly as much.)

Here is a political piece by Zeca Afonso, in (I think) the Coimbra style of fado, but just as soulful (more here).


Finally, here's Mariza and Barco Negro. She has an amazing voice, and an extraordinary energy. I love this contemporary shape of fado.

Ah, here's another whole world to discover... So much to learn. So little time...