Ariel Ramirez: high fidelity for folk: a passionate exponent of traditional music, this prolific composer has brought the rhythms of Argentina's interior to world audiences.

• Author: Bach, Caleb

Listeners by the millions have come to recognize the opening bars of Misa Criolla: the first thumps of the Andean bombo, or drum, the tonal layer set down by the chorus, and the soloists' chanting of the Kyrie to the folk rhythms of a vidala and baguala. The famous folk mass, written by Argentine pianist-composer Ariel Ramirez, made its debut in 1964 on a Philips recording that featured the vocal group Los Fronterizos as soloists, the mixed chorus of the Cantoria de la Basilica del Socorro front Buenos Aires, and a small ensemble playing Andean instruments, all under the direction of the composer. Also featured on the record was another Ramirez composition, Navidad Nuestra a rendering of the Christmas story with words penned by poet-historian Felix Luna, also set to the rhythms of Argentine folk music. At the time, Philips executives gambled on this project largely because interest in folk music was on the rise and an earlier mass inspired by traditional African music, Misa Luba had met with some success. Still, little could they know that Misa Criolla would sell two thousand copies on the first day of its release in November 1964 and fifty thousand by the end of that year. Now, nearly forty years later, millions of copies of the original recording have been sold, and other versions featuring soloists like Mercedes Sosa, Jose Carreras, and Jose Cura continue to enthrall fans the world over.

With more than three hundred compositions to his credit, Ramirez, now in his early eighties, continues to write music. He also records and performs frequently either as piano soloist or conductor in concerts the world over. As if his musical life were not enough, he also serves as secretary-general of the Argentine Society of Authors and Composers (SADAIC), a position he has held for more than twenty years. SADAIC, which protects the publication and performance rights of Argentine writers and musicians worldwide, maintains its headquarters at Lavalle 1547, in the heart of downtown Buenos Aires. The ground floor vestibule features dozens of photographs of authors like Borges, Bioy, Cortazar, Sabato, Puig, Guiraldes, and musicians like Gardel, Troilo, Piazzolla, Walsh, and of course Ramirez. It was in his upstairs office overlooking the noisy street below that the composer himself kindly set aside some time to talk about his remarkable career. Informal, friendly, with a smile as wide as the pampa, this natural storyteller recalled the halcyon days of the nueva cancion movement, sometimes pausing to provide impromptu riffs on an office piano to convey his musical ideas.

"My mother was Uruguayan of Italian background," he begins. "She named me Ariel after the famous book by that progressive educator Jose Enrique Rodo. Education was a big thing in our family. My father, a schoolteacher, as were all of his nine siblings, expected me to follow suit. I trained to be a teacher and received my certificate, but in my first job as a fourth-grade teacher in Santa Fe I lasted two days. I couldn't say no to those schemers. I had discipline problems. Music is what I really cared about, ever since age four. My father ran the normal school in Coronda, a small town midway between Rosario and Santa Fe. We lived over the school, but in a little ground-floor museum there was a piano. On Sundays, when it was closed, I would sneak in to play the piano amid the embalmed owls, parrots, and bugs. For me playing was the easiest, most natural things to do! In those years tango was the music, but gradually I wanted to know more about the folkloric music of the country. My dad gave me a few pesos to make my way to a little town called Tulumba outside Cordoba where I stayed with a friend for nearly a year. One night they had a fiesta and brought out a piano for me. A guitarist...