For  months Jorge has been talking with friends, taxi drivers and passers-by about this question : "What  song represents Buenos Aires?".
So this is Jorge's story:
From Piazzolla to Sumo, from Tana Rinaldi to DJs Pareja, taking in Ca7riel and Soda Stereo, the artist began to collect the responses on a Spotify playlist: “64 tonos de Buenos Aires”.
One night I went for a walk in the city center. "Amor Buenos Aires" by Jorge López Ruiz was the first track I heard in my headphones. I got lost on Diagonal Norte Av. and San Martín St., looking for clues in a bar or scribbled wall. Someone on a corner sang me a tango written by Angel Villoldo, "El carrero y el cochero”. I looked for it on Spotify but couldn’t find it. Then, I discovered it on YouTube, it was a 1908 recording.
I headed south. I called Z to find out what he thought. His response was "Made in Argentina" by Mala Fama. I added it to the list. I continued to wander for blocks in solitude, looking and looking for the song of Buenos Aires. I reached the Obelisk and sat down to watch the city lights. At this moment I realized it: I was not finding the song of Buenos Aires. My search led to a dead end street, or rather, to an avenue of numerous ramifications. There are many songs of Buenos Aires.

The following days the question became an obsession and the song did not appear. Until one night, chatting with Juan, he suggested me to focus on the sound of the city, its noise, above and beyond the music.

"64 Tones of Buenos Aires" presents a vertical piano stretching 31 meters high at the intersection of Corrientes and Callao Avenues, one of the nerve centers of the city. The work offers a spectrum of 64 tones that could refer to a piece of blue sky, the red of the B subway line, the yellow of a taxi, the green of a handkerchief, the white of the Obelisk, the black in a cup of coffee, the gray of the asphalt, the orange of a school bus, the burgundy of a brick, the colors of a bus transport, the flags of a demonstration, the infinite shades of the city architecture and, shining down upon her, the reflections of the Sun.

These tones and many more are present in the atmosphere of this corner. Also, I think they can be heard.

I did not find the song of Buenos Aires. Instead, I found a city conducting an orchestra.

"64 Tones of Buenos Aires" presents a vertical piano stretching 31 meters high at the intersection of Corrientes and Callao avenues, one of the cultural, political and economic nerve center of the city. The work offers a spectrum of 64 tones that could refer to a piece of blue sky, the red of the B subway line, the yellow of a taxi, the green of a handkerchief, the white of the Obelisk, the black in a cup of coffee, the gray of the asphalt, the orange of a school bus, the burgundy of a brick, the colors of a bus transport, the flags of a demonstration, the infinite gray shades of Buenos Aires architecture and, shining down upon her, the reflections of the Sun.
These tones and many more are present in the context of this corner. Also, I think they can be heard.
Jorge did not find the song of Buenos Aires. Instead, he found a city conducting an orchestra.

PS: up there, close to the sky, 31 meters high from the floor, in the first blue tone, embedded in the wall, there is a text written on a piece of paper. What does it say? We invite you to write in www.64tonosdebuenosaires.com.ar