Tua

One morning in January of 1959, while starting to learn, with Carlo at the piano, the two songs that had been assigned to me for the Sanremo Festival, the phone rang: “Good morning, Signora”, said a man’s voice. “I’m the lawyer Cajafa, the director of the Sanremo Casino and organizer of the 1959 Festival”. “Good morning, Sir. Nice to know you by phone, while we wait to meet at the Festival”, I replied. “Have you decided anything about the clothes?” In fact, that year, the novelty was that they were having all the singers’ clothes made by the Lainati fashion house in Milan, as if they were costumes: we would each choose them, and wear them for the related songs, then hand them back at the end of the Festival. Since all of us singers were paid negligible sums and had to be available first in Milan and then in Sanremo for quite a few days, with a lot of travel and accommodation expenses, being able to avoid spending large sums on clothes was convenient. I know almost nothing about today’s Festival, but I think that the record companies, rightly, take care of the expenses for their respective singers. Back then, I was just waiting to know when and how we’d try the clothing, but I was surprised that this guy, the director, had called me from Milan to talk about this.
In fact: “No, no, I don’t know anything about clothes yet. We’ll probably give the information to the record companies who will then pass it on to their singers. I’m calling you today because I’d like you to do a song at Sanremo that seems particularly suited to you…”
“Excuse me if I interrupt, Sir, but I’ve already received the two songs from Voce del Padrone, which are Per tutta la vita and La vita mi ha dato solo te. They’re already working on the arrangements and I’m going to record them, together with others, in three days in Milan”.
“Yes, I know. But this would be in addition to those. There’s a lot of demand for this song. La Cetra would like to have it because Pizzi wants it. But, you see, I heard you sing some French love songs – Les amants d’un jour, Domino, Mon homme – and I don’t think any singer could do this song the way you could”.
While he talked, I went from one reaction to another. In the meantime, I was impressed to hear him mention my cherished French songs with such enthusiasm and precision; then I was astounded that this gentleman, whom I’d never met in person, who everyone seemed to fear and who was said never to have had anything to do with singers personally, would call me to tell me so many kind things. Also, I was really curious to know how and when I could hear this song that he was so insistent on.
“Thanks so much for your kind words and for… knowing my repertoire so thoroughly. But, honestly, while your opinion is important to me, I don’t feel that I can accept the song without hearing it. And then, what should I say to the record company?”
“I’ll speak to the Voce del Padrone. They could only be happy that you’re presenting three songs instead of two. To hear the song – and I wholeheartedly agree with what you say – I can send you the piano part by courier. You should receive it by today or tomorrow morning at the latest. You should then let me know what you’ve decided as soon as possible, because time is running out. Is that okay?”
I told him it was, we cordially said goodbye, and I could barely put the phone down, wanting to run and tell Carlo everything. He was amazed as well by what was happening to me and, above all, he was curious to hear the song. We had to wait for the handwritten piano part to arrive by courier, since the songs participating in the Festival couldn’t be published beforehand, and weren’t in print, and even the records would only be released in stores at the end of the Festival. That same evening, at ten, the concierge of our building came up to bring us a sealed envelope with the words “Urgent-Personal”, which the courier had just delivered. Inside was the manuscript of the song, with the title and authors in the heading: Tua by Pallesi-Malgoni.
We went to bed very late that evening, Carlo and I. Now, whenever there was a new song to learn, I had the joy of having him, who made me really listen to the music, calmly, while I read the words. Not only was everything simpler, but more beautiful. I immediately felt like singing and, even though I knew the song ought to “mature” inside me before studying it, I seemed to know it already.
I liked Tua right away. I felt it lent itself to being performed, word for word, for what it said. After the short verse: “I thought I was dreaming, but instead no, I’m really yours…”, I would have liked to sing the first eight bars of the refrain with voice alone. But practicing it, with Carlo playing only the bass notes with his left hand, we realized that this was just the atmosphere I wanted. This idea of the solo voice with double bass accompaniment was then used in both arrangements, at the Festival and on the recording. Jula wanted to call the lawyer Cajafa right away, even though it was midnight, but the alter ego, the wise Jolanda, and Carlo, made her understand that they had to wait until offices were open, the next morning!
“Sir,” I began immediately on the phone the next day, without even saying good morning. “I like the song very much. It’s such a beautiful, simple and sincere love song. I don’t know how to thank you for wanting to give it to me”.
“I’m really happy, dear lady. I can’t wait to hear you sing it! Now we must immediately notify La Voce del Padrone so that they can do the arrangement for the recording as soon as possible”.
“Don’t worry, I can do that. Unfortunately, Luttazzi is out of town, but I’ll call Milan right away to tell Pino Calvi what key it’s in, so that he can record Tua with the other songs the day after tomorrow and I myself, here in Rome, will give a copy of the manuscript and key to Gianni Ferrio for the arrangement for the Festival”.
“Excellent! Well, see you at Sanremo”.
“Certainly, and thanks again”.
In Milan, the recording session went quite well. In addition to my three, I recorded seven other songs of the Festival, ten in all. There was to be a Long Playing 33 rpm with the ten songs, two Extended Playing 45s and various 45s and regular 78s. A lot of records! I really hoped they would be well advertised, which usually didn’t happen. I was full of hope even though the arrangement of Tua wasn’t exceptional. I no longer know if it was by Pino Calvi, who has always been an excellent musician or if, given the amount of work to be completed in such a short time, he’d commissioned someone else. The drum beat was more swing than melodic song and the recording itself didn’t really bring my voice out very well. When I listened to it with the technician, in the control room, immediately after having recorded it, it seemed adequate to me but I didn’t completely agree with those present that it should be taken as good. But “It’s a record”, they said and, with everyone in such a hurry I couldn’t do it over again. Besides, when I heard the printed record, as it went to the shops, my voice was actually covered by the drums and I really didn’t like the whole thing at all. But there was nothing I could do about it, and so this is how it went. Then, when I was at rehearsals in Sanremo singing Gianni Ferrio’s arrangement, well, that was quite another thing!”
Excerpted from: De Palma, Jula, Tua per sempre. Autobiografia della signora del jazz italiano. Rome, Coniglio Editore, 2009, pp. 172-175
Note: The Carlo that Jula (Jolanda) De Palma referred to in her story is her husband (and often her personal pianist) Carlo Lanzi