Downstairs, at the front door, it began to fill with graffiti two years ago, when Charly García turned 69. No one can explain why at that time and not at another. Upstairs, on the terrace, there is a piano painted in homage to the artist that is seen, obviously, with a drone. In addition, in the same building lives Migue, his son. And if this were not enough, the architect who built the building, almost 100 years ago, was a certain Alberto Cantilo (something to do with Fabiana?).
The whole is an aesthetic interrogation that leaves the famous Casa Tomada de Cortázar reduced to an anecdote of doors that open and close.
"Hello, good day, I'm a journalist," to a lady leaving the building.
-Hello.
-Is it good to be Charly's neighbor?
-I like it, yes.
-Does it make a lot of noise?
-Nooooo, not at all! Now he's calm, he's better... Great person!
They pass anonymous and famous. Here Fito Páez sitting on the threshold of the famous Buenos Aires building.
-Are you bothered by the graffiti on the door?
-Zero, not at all. The properties of this building are going to leave fortunes. Remember what I tell you....
How many times a day will you ring the seventh? The pilgrimage must be incessant. Displays of affection and sacred love. Pasted photos, written messages growing like a vine on the front of Coronel Diaz 1905. Someone corrected the address and put "1951", in relation to the idol's date of birth. Speaking of "idol", that word can be read in 39 testimonies of the people. The other one that appears a lot is "master". The other, "God."
Perhaps we are talking about what happens in the most popular building in the City. The altar of the Fatherland where Charly lives. Right now we are sitting exactly where Fito Paez sat. The same marble threshold, and looking for the same place where Fito looked when he made the post on his social networks.
He passed through here in the framework of his infernal exhibition for the fashion series, and he did it at the request of León Gieco, who also took a photo in the permanent tribute that was formed at the door of the Coronel Díaz building, corner Santa Fe.
"Sitting at the popular altar in Charly's building," Fito wrote on his Instagram account. Will it have gone up afterwards? We are told not to waste time because the electric intercom is disconnected for obvious reasons. "It's been about a year since she unplugged it," says the neighbor who loves being Charly's neighbor.
The terrace keyboard is a gift given to him when he turned 70. It was by the work and grace of a muralist fan named Tian Firpo. It's a nine-meter keyboard. The idea came from a neighbor of the building, Marcelo Ferrán.
On the terrace there is a painted piano, the work of muralist Tian Firpo, under the supervision of neighbor Marcelo Ferrán.
It is not easy to see the piano. Perhaps from a nearby building or by Google Maps, but the piano was declared a Site of Cultural Interest of the City: "This became a temple full of graffiti. It looks like the house of singer Serge Gainsbourg in France," Ferrán tells us before adding: "Fito's series served to keep the walls collecting signatures and phrases about Charly."
-Nobody in the building complains?
-Nobody complains and I, particularly, find all this beautiful. I love finding graffiti and having them in the driveway. There is a lot of peace and harmony in Coronel Diaz.
The thing is that the manuscript affection was accumulating in the form of an essay or live fresco. Worthy of any Gilda, of any Gauchito Gil.
The first, they say – and Ferran agrees – was "Paraguay loves you." Then came another, also tourist: "Infinite thanks", signed "from El Paz, Bolivia". Things have movement, it is true, and what started as a walk of foreigners was growing to the rhythm of an affection expressed vertically, with indelible markers or biromes, colored pencils, pasted photos and letters that accumulate in the mailbox of the building.
The most aggressive graffiti? "Suck Calamaro". The most readable?: "I do go so crazy." The most poetic? From Santiago de Chile: "Thank you for turning on the light of my soul." The nicest: "Charly, whenever you want I'll make you a barbecue". We started counting them and it started raining when we were going for the 441 graffiti.
The last one we checked was written exactly three minutes ago, on a Tuesday at 13.25 p.m.: "I grew up with you." Right, right in the same place as Fito. There we sit. Had they coincided, one would have been at the mercy of the other. Thinking like this from time to time humanizes the heroes. He terraplanes them.
Despite a jumble of dedications and loving words, holding on at the door of the building, one feels that life continues without Charly being the center of the scene. Thousands of people pass through here daily and there are few, very few, who stop.
The first graffiti was foreign: "Paraguay loves you." Photo by Ariel Grinberg
Here is just the Ristretto bar, famous for its proximity to Charly, and for being the subject of crazy deliveries. Considered an authentic "close source", there we are told that the right of floor of the new waiters consisted of taking the order to Charly ("mucho sanguche de milanesa").
"Now he hasn't asked for a lot, but it was a classic that Charly served you in balls. He could be in a good mood, in a bad mood, let you go to his house, give you generous tips or not give you a mango ...", says the lady at the checkout.
How far are we from Coronel Díaz being called Charly García Avenue? We collected signatures for that purpose in a little Gloria notebook.
-And, yes, it would seem fair and necessary: Charly García Avenue, it looks nice ... -they respond in the bakery that shares a dividing wall with the building / Popular Historical Monument.
-Good afternoon, we are collecting signatures for the avenue to be called "Charly García".
-Obviously, give it ... -puts the hook someone called Pablo Prada and we think he is the Chato Prada of Tinelli's program. Your ID starts with 18 million.
Of the respondents, only one refuses, but we convince him.
"I don't like Charly," admits a boy who says his name is Ridwan.
-Would you prefer the avenue to be called Duki?
-Hahaha, it may be... –but sign.
In addition, gentlemen in charge of naming the streets, it would be necessary to understand the context: Who was Colonel Díaz to deserve such a stretch where the square meter costs up to 3 thousand dollars?!
A few weeks ago, León GIeco passed by and shared on his official account: "Here I am in the house of our dear Charly García, something like our own #AbbeyRoad". Perfect figure. Identical feeling.
"They leave the graffiti because they know they have a Gardel living there," says María Yosa Yorio, Charly's ex and mother of his son Migue. Photo Ariel Grinberg
We played the electric intercom the same. Nothing nicer than wasting time with impunity. At one time, when Charly jumped into the pool from the heights of a hotel, you rang the doorbell of his house and someone opened it. More than one anonymous person knows this and could remember that the doors opened wide. But the neighbor is right: the device must be disconnected.
Is it true that there are already people who want to get married in front of this urban intervention? Is it true that the administration of the building ever wanted to paint the front and erase so much love?
We just crossed María Rosa Yorio, Charly's ex and Migue García's mother.
- What a coincidence! Did you see this great tribute?
-Yes, of course, and how interesting that the other inhabitants of the building do not delete anything, right?
-It's true.
-They leave them, do you know why they don't delete anything? Because they know that they have a Gardel living there.
"Today I went to Charly Garcia's house and left 4 nougat in the mailbox," tweeted a girl. In networks it is also read that someone brought his original vinyls of Seru Giran to autograph them if, by chance, he came across it.
Now there is a girl who stops his pace. We will soon know that her name is Mara. Mara has black glasses, red All Star and a perfect fit. He must be 25 years old. "31," he corrects.
The concrete thing is that he passed through the door of the building of the almost former Colonel Diaz, braked as if he had forgotten something, rested his hand on the wrought iron of the door. And he signed himself.