He owes his exotic-sounding name to his mother, originally from Brazil. She met cooper Rudolf Kraisinger while building a brewery in Montevideo, they got married and their first son, Oskar, was born. But the younger Rudolf was already born in Pilsen. He was five years old when his father died. The mother found herself without means and out of desperation put both sons in an orphanage.
Rudolf grew up there until the age of eighteen, he trained as a furrier there and devoted himself to this profession until 1942, after which he was fully employed in Škoda plants and worked as a turner until the end of the Second World War. At the same time, he secretly dreamed of a career as a dancer, paying for courses at Madame Aubrechtová’s prestigious school.
There, however, they heard him sing and advised him to try to establish himself in this field, because he was too tall for ballet. Professor Drag Vitič devoted himself to him, as a poor man, he gave him free lessons, and Rudolf soon began performing with Emil Ludvík’s orchestra. He liked jazz and swing the most, but he also devoted himself to opera arias, he changed his father’s German name, which was not popular after the war, to his mother’s – Cortés.
A great influence on his career and life was the meeting with Jan Werich, who, together with Jiří Voskovec, engaged him in one of the main roles in the production of the American musical The Miracle Pot. It was a huge success when it premiered in 1947, but then unfortunately Victorious February came, so it was banned.
Rudolf developed a strong relationship with Jan, not unlike a father and son. They were also connected by fishing, they went to Slovakia to catch chub and competed to see who would have the biggest catch, but they were just as passionate about cutting fish and preparing them for eating. Rudolf carried fishing rods in his car all year, just in case.
He got another big chance in 1955, when he played Lemonade Joe in the ABC theater. Karel Fiala was given priority in the film, allegedly because of his long legs, and there are a lot of shots of them in the end. It didn’t particularly bother him, his popularity rose at a rocket pace, his songs were played almost constantly on the screens and in radio programs, he became the frontman in Karel Vlach’s orchestra, the most sought after in our country.
He also significantly influenced his followers, Karel Gott, who respected him very much – they even sang a duet together, Nestálá láska – and Waldemar Matuška. He took his great “cowboy” hit Starý honec krav (1954) into the repertoire under the name Heavenly Riders. This was actually the birth of country music in our country.
“A good singer sings hundreds of songs in his lifetime. He has to find his own relationship with each one, he has to get to know each one intimately before he comes on stage with them, in order not to disappoint himself, his song and, last but not least, the audience, for whom he must especially care…,” was his motto.
Even though women were very interested in getting him in the clutch, he only married twice. The first time on 22 December 1945, he and his wife had a son Rudolf and a daughter Dáša, the second time twenty years later, when he still had a son David. He had a close relationship with his daughter, she follows in his footsteps, they performed together, toured Mongolia and the Soviet Union.
It is worth noting that even in the infamous 1950s, the time of his greatest glory, he did not sing any edifying song, nor was he otherwise politically involved, which was an exception at the time.
His elegant, masculine and gallant appearance was complemented by a beautiful, rich and velvety soft baritone. He became the first star of pop music in our country, the idol of girls and women of all generations. Unfortunately, his career did not last long. Already at the age of forty-seven, he began to show the first symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease – which was still little known at the time.
In 1975, he appeared in front of the camera for the last time in the comedy directed by Brynych Romance for the crown, in which he played himself, but his condition was rapidly deteriorating. His lyrics started to fall out on stage, later he couldn’t hit a home run, he couldn’t even dress himself on tour. In the end, it turned out that, logically, no one wanted to take him on tour.
Later, when they played his songs for him, he didn’t even recognize his own voice from the records his family played for him, he couldn’t even open a bottle of lemonade without help. Unfortunately, he lived with this devastating disease for a very long time, until he was sixty-five, he had a strong body that resisted it.
However, his condition required institutional care, he was transferred to a hospital in Krásná Lípa, where he died four years later, without recognizing the world around him. Ironically, one of his biggest hits was called Memories Will Remain.
But he did not find peace even after death. In 1990, a certain Vladimír Rohan falsely accused him in the magazine Reportér of being a Gestapo agent, collaborator and whistleblower. It took a number of years before daughter Dasha managed to clear her father’s name.
Source: https://www.fdb.cz/lidi-zivotopis-biografie/58331-rudolf-cortes.html
https://www.csfd.cz/tvurce/30983-rudolf-cortes/biografie/
http://www.semanovice.cz/index.php?page=0030&lang=cz&dt=1140&kt=4&psy=0
The Life of Rudolf Cortés: A Journey of High Notes and Low Points
Ladies and gentlemen, gather round as we delve into the life of Rudolf Cortés—a man whose story is as rich and layered as a Brazilian carnival. Seriously, you’d think he launched the whole concept of dramatic backstories all on his own!
Born to a Brazilian mother (shout out to exotic genes!) and raised in the rolling hills of tragedy—thanks to a brewery job and a father’s untimely departure—Cortés had all the raw material for a fantastic one-man show. Runaway genetic wiring and a penchant for dance? Who knew furriers had such rhythm! In a twist fit for a soap opera, after his dad passed away, his mother turned to an orphanage, probably thinking, “Two for the price of one, plus a three-course meal!”
Now, let’s talk about his career choices. Picture this: a tall, awkward lad, training as a furrier but secretly dreaming of becoming a dancer. There he is, likely tripping over his own feet while measuring pelts. When he got a chance to train at a prestigious dance school—participating in a fine balancing act between a fur coat and a spandex suit—he said, “Nope, let’s switch it up and sing! A tall dancer? Nah, that’s just silly.” After all, let’s be real—what’s a taller than average boy to do when the ballet world isn’t quite ready for him? Ta-da! Enter the stage, singing instead of pirouetting.
With a nickname like “Lemonade Joe,” he went from obscurity to pop stardom faster than you can say “diva.” Unluckily, due to some film politics, he got overshadowed by a fellow tall guy. Remember kids, always check the height requirements before auditioning! But don’t worry; his popularity soared like helium balloons at a five-year-old’s birthday party. Eventually, he danced into the hearts of millions. He must have been like zing, zap, kaboom—pop music’s first matinee idol!
Now, on to our manly Moby Dick of fishing! He and Jan Werich formed a bond through fishing like they were in some kind of action-packed buddy movie, except instead of shooting guns, they mostly shot the breeze about who could gut a fish better. This sounds less like a fishing trip and more like an episode of a cooking show gone rogue. Get that camera rolling; we have sandwiches to make, people!
The sheer reach of his stardom didn’t just end there; he influenced legends like Karel Gott and even had a multi-generational family singing affair. They must have had some intriguing family reunions—“Pass the potatoes and… oh, let’s break into a duet!” His motto, so sweet and relatable—every good singer needs a personal relationship with their songs. That’s right! Penning heartfelt ballads to your dinner leftovers is totally normal, people.
Now, speaking of relationships, can we just take a moment? This man was a heartthrob and only married twice. I mean, come on, ladies! He was like the rare Pokémon of the music world, elusive yet captivating. Meanwhile, the ’50s weren’t exactly a golden age for unfiltered songwriting—“The Love Shack” probably felt like an uplifting hymn in comparison.
But however glamorous his life appeared, the plot thickens just as we reach the crescendo of this opera. He began to show symptoms of Alzheimer’s at the ripe age of forty-seven, gracefully veering off-stage like the sad ending of a Shakespearean play. It’s heartbreaking to think the man who belted out melodies could no longer recognize his own masterpieces. Picture that: “Listen dear, here’s your hit song!” And his response? Blank stares. Just a tragic oversell of his own fame.
Sadly, he passed away in a hospital, never recognizing the fans who adored him. And wouldn’t you know it—his biggest hit had the irony of being titled “Memories Will Remain.” No word yet on whether that made it to his Spotify list.
In a twist that could rival a poorly written sequel, even after death, his name became entangled in controversy. A false accusation presented him as a Gestapo agent. Ouch! Because what’s a legacy without a scandal, am I right? Luckily, his daughter stepped up to clear his name. Talk about a plot twist that even the most ambitious screenwriters would envy.
Rudolf’s life was undeniably a rollercoaster full of ups, downs, and plenty of unexpected loops. From orphanage tragedy to pop icon, his journey reflects not just the power of music but the resilience of the human spirit. Here’s to you, Rudolf Cortés— the man, the myth, the musical icon with enough drama to keep us entertained for ages!
He owes his unique name, which carries a melodious ring, to his mother who hails from the vibrant landscapes of Brazil. Upon meeting the hardworking cooper Rudolf Kraisinger during a brewery construction project in Montevideo, they embarked on a life journey that led to a marriage and the birth of their first son, Oskar. However, their second son, Rudolf, was born in the historic city of Pilsen. Tragically, when he was just five years old, the shadow of loss engulfed their family with the untimely death of his father. In the wake of this event, with limited resources and burdened by despair, his mother made the heartbreaking decision to place both of her sons in an orphanage.
Rudolf spent his formative years in the orphanage until he turned eighteen, where he trained as a furrier, honing a craft he would stick to until 1942. Following this period, he transitioned to the Škoda plants and engaged in turnery until the chaotic end of the Second World War. Yet, even amidst the turbulence, a secret passion flickered within him—a fervent dream of a career as a dancer. To pursue this ambition, he enrolled in Madame Aubrechtová’s prestigious dancing school, funneling his limited funds into the dance lessons.
At Madame Aubrechtová’s school, his powerful voice caught the attention of his instructors, who encouraged him to shift his focus from dance to singing, given his height limitations for ballet. Under the mentorship of the compassionate Professor Drag Vitič, who took pity on the struggling youth, Rudolf received free lessons. His dedication bore fruit as he soon began performing with Emil Ludvík’s orchestra. His artistic pursuits were particularly influenced by jazz and swing, but he also cultivated a love for opera arias. In a bold expression of reinvention, he swapped his father’s unappealing German surname, which had become a social liability post-war, for the more fitting Cortés, a tribute to his mother’s heritage.
Rudolf’s career took a pivotal turn when he formed a memorable collaboration with the iconic Jan Werich. This partnership blossomed when Werich cast him in a key role in the American musical The Miracle Pot, a production that captivated audiences and enjoyed tremendous success upon its premiere in 1947. However, the shadow of political repression loomed large, as the show was soon silenced following the advent of Victorious February, a significant shift in the political landscape that hushed artistic expression.
Over time, Rudolf developed a profound bond with Jan Werich, one characterized by affection similar to that of a father and son. Their mutual love for fishing facilitated many adventures together, traveling to picturesque Slovakian rivers to catch chub while engaging in friendly competition over who could land the largest fish. They both relished the art of preparing their catch for a meal, with Rudolf keeping fishing rods in his car year-round in eager anticipation of their next fishing excursion.
Rudolf’s star shone brightly once more in 1955 with his role as Lemonade Joe in the renowned ABC theater. Despite Karel Fiala receiving a larger share of the spotlight in the film due to his notable stature, Rudolf remained unfazed. His popularity skyrocketed, with his music resonating constantly on screens and airwaves. He emerged as the leading figure in Karel Vlach’s orchestra, which was widely regarded as the most prestigious group in the country.
His influence extended to emerging artists, notably Karel Gott, who held him in great esteem, even collaborating on the duet “Nestálá láska.” Rudolf’s adaptation of the “cowboy” hit “Starý honec krav” into his repertoire as “Heavenly Riders” marked a defining moment in the evolution of country music within the region.
“A good singer sings hundreds of songs in his lifetime. He has to find his own relationship with each one, he has to get to know each one intimately before he comes on stage with them, in order not to disappoint himself, his song and, last but not least, the audience, for whom he must especially care…” was his steadfast belief.
Despite his undeniable charm and the interest of many women, Rudolf encountered the institution of marriage twice. His first marriage on December 22, 1945, yielded a son, Rudolf, and a daughter, Dáša. Two decades later, he married again, welcoming a son, David, into the world. Rudolf maintained a particularly close relationship with his daughter, who mirrored his artistic path, frequently performing alongside him and even touring China and the Soviet Union.
It’s interesting to note that even during the oppressive climate of the 1950s, amid his peak fame, he refrained from performing politically charged songs, a rarity in that particular historical context.
Rudolf’s striking, masculine presence was complemented perfectly by his stunningly rich and velvety baritone voice. He ascended to become the trailblazer of pop music in his country, capturing the adoration of women and girls across multiple generations. Unfortunately, his remarkable career faced an abrupt decline as he reached the age of forty-seven, when symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease, an ailment not well understood at the time, began to manifest.
In 1975, he made his last on-screen appearance in Brynych’s comedy “Romance for the Crown,” portraying himself, yet by then, his health was deteriorating rapidly. His performances became marred by lapses in memory; he often forgot lyrics while on stage, and subsequently, simple tasks, such as dressing himself while on tour, became daunting.
As time progressed, family members noted a distressing change. When they played his music for him, he failed to recognize his previously familiar voice from the recordings. Simple tasks like opening a bottle of lemonade became impossible without assistance. The once-vibrant artist endured this debilitating condition for many years, resisting its grip until the age of sixty-five, all the while bearing a body that seemed remarkably resilient.
Ultimately, the severity of his condition necessitated institutional care, leading to his transfer to a hospital in Krásná Lípa, where he passed away four years later, tragically without recognition of the world that once celebrated him. Ironically, one of his greatest hits was titled “Memories Will Remain.”
Even in death, Rudolf’s legacy faced turmoil. In 1990, he was falsely accused by a writer named Vladimír Rohan in the magazine Reportér, who alleged that he had been a Gestapo agent and collaborator. It took years for his devoted daughter, Dasha, to restore her father’s reputation and clear his name from these heinous accusations.
