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ALEX ROITMAN TANGO ENSEMBLE, La Cocina De Tango

Writer: Jonathan Widran
Jonathan Widran
2 hours ago
3 min read

Tango doesn’t simply keep time—it teases it. One moment, the Alex Roitman Tango Ensemble is racing through a crisp, percussive passage; the next, it suddenly eases into elongated, sensual phrases, then snaps back into motion almost measure by measure. That exhilarating push and pull is at the heart of La Cocina de Tango, a richly detailed showcase for Roitman’s bandoneon, Nayiri Piloyan’s violin, Mayu Funaba’s piano and Carlos Maldonado Cisneros’ double bass. The repertoire brings together Roitman originals with legendary tango compositions by Astor Piazzolla, Julio de Caro and other masters, giving the ensemble an opportunity to place its own virtuosic voice - and often unpredictable quirkiness -in direct conversation with the music’s formidable history.

Roitman’s own compositions more than measure up to the classics surrounding them. They possess the same instinct for tension, rhythmic surprise and melodic personality, yet allow his individual voice on the bandoneon to emerge with particular clarity.  


“Aníbal Troilo” gets things moving with a whimsical bandoneon figure answered by low piano chords, establishing an engaging dialogue between Roitman and Funaba. Violin accents, snappy percussion and dark piano colors create a playful contrast of light and shadow, while tempo changes keep the dance in perpetual motion. A wild romp through Piazzolla’s “Chau, Paris” intensifies that chemistry, with Roitman and Piloyan trading passionate phrases before Roitman launches into an agile improvisation that travels from the instrument’s deepest register to its highest reaches.


“Lágrimas de arrabal” may be the album’s most sweeping example of this three-way interplay, with soaring violin, midrange bandoneon and lower piano figures continually crossing paths. Piloyan’s lyrical improvisations rise beautifully above Roitman’s plucky accents and Funaba’s darker chords. “El último encuentro” is equally captivating, its graceful violin lines and clipped bandoneon figures creating one of the set’s most spirit-filled dances, punctuated by unexpected stops and accents.


“Ruta montañosa” moves between reflective bandoneon passages and more buoyant exchanges among violin, piano and bandoneon, while Piazzolla’s “Marrón y azul” begins with a rumbling piano vamp before erupting into sharp string accents and dramatic turns. A slower piano improvisation briefly changes the atmosphere before the ensemble gathers its momentum again.


“Panadera” is particularly infectious, built around a circular piano figure with bandoneon and violin darting around it in seemingly different groove-driven worlds. The track becomes a dazzling succession of quicksilver exchanges, including pizzicato-like string accents and rapid changes that can occur from one measure to the next. “La cocina de tango” similarly alternates between lyrical, almost ballad-like passages and jumpy bursts of trademark tango motion.


Composed and first recorded by the famous Julio de Caro y su Orquesta Típica in 1927, “Gigoló” balances elegant violin with staccato bandoneon, bass and piano accents, while “Leyenda” provides an emphatic finale. After its buoyant opening, the tempo relaxes for a gentle violin passage and then comes to a striking halt, leaving Roitman alone for an extended, contemplative bandoneon statement supported by bass. When the ensemble returns, the music gathers its final momentum, bringing the album to a triumphant close.


Roitman’s background—from piano and accordion to Klezmer, musette and ultimately Argentine tango—helps explain the extraordinary command on display here. But La Cocina de Tango is ultimately about the chemistry of four musicians listening closely to one another, anticipating every turn and embracing the music’s deliciously mercurial nature. For anyone who loves tango with both elegance and fire, this is a feast worth savoring.

 

 
 
 

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