Posted on Mon, Oct. 08, 2007
By ENRIQUE FERNANDEZ
When Celia Cruz passed away in 2003, thousands turned out to mourn her
in Miami and New York. Last month another great, trombonist Generoso
Jiménez, died only a few days before he was to perform in a concert
marking the 80th career anniversary of bassist and composer Israel
''Cachao'' López. Four days after his friend's funeral, Cachao took the
stage leaning on a cane.
From the late 19th century and well into the middle of the 20th, Cuban
popular genres, most of them dance music, swept the world: habanera,
danzón, son, conga, rumba, mambo, cha-cha. And there's salsa, which is
mostly old Cuban genres reworked for modern tastes. Only American music
has had a broader and deeper reach globally.
''Even Cuban musicians can't tell you what the secret of the island's
music is,'' says Olga María Touzet, a Miami resident who is heir to
Cuban music royalty. Her father, René Touzet, who died in Miami in 2003,
was one of Cuba's most important composers, and some of his best works
were made hits by Olga María's mother, 84-year-old Olga Guillot,
arguably Cuba's greatest living singer, who resides in Mexico.
''One of Cuba's appeals has been a cultural wealth disproportionate to
its size. Salient, though not exclusive, to that wealth is music,'' says
Nat Chediak, author of Diccionario del Jazz Latino.
Given their advanced years, it's not surprising that five of the
original participants in the 1997 Buena Vista Social Club CD have passed
away. The deaths of even more important musicians, like Chico O'Farrill,
Mongo Santamaría and, of course, Celia Cruz, underscore the twilight
nature of the era.
Many luminaries of Cuban music, who put their island's sounds on the
international map long before Ry Cooder's CD renewed interest in Cuban
traditional music, are still around. And some are still performing.
LIVING LEGENDS
These aging artists -- like Cachao -- seem to channel all their
remaining energy into their music. But an elegiac tone invades their
concerts, as Cuban music aficionados, particularly in Miami where for
many it's a national legacy, sense just how frail these living legends
are: Pianist Bebo Valdés and percussionist Cándido Camero, like Cachao,
move slowly and are hunched by their advanced years.
A CREATIVE LEGACY
The aging of the Golden Era musicians hasn't quieted the vibrancy of
Cuban music. Outside the room where Generoso Jiménez lay in state at his
wake last month, a crowd of Cuban music veterans stood around talking
shop and reminiscing. There was saxophonist Tata Palau;
singer/bandleader Roberto Torres; record label exec Juan Estevez, who
was executive producer of Generoso's solo album. Music folk in their 60s
and early 70s, vigorous and active, heirs to Generoso. And to Cachao,
who entered the funeral supported by young family members. One felt the
passing of generations in the air.
''Theirs is the music that endures, just like the music of Tchaikovsky
and Beethoven,'' said 44-year-old singer and bandleader Issac Delgado,
who left Cuba last year and now lives in Miami. ``[Generoso, Cachao and
their generation] have become classics, too.''
''There are creators and there are followers,'' said Bebo Valdés. ``This
is not something everyone can understand. To create as Cachao did, that
is very difficult.''
Delgado, who represents the generation that, in Cuba, created the
progressive salsa-like timba sound, recognizes that ''the lyricism and
romanticism of Cuban music was getting lost due to the heavy use of
technology'' among his peers. ``But in the past six or seven years,
there has been a return to acoustic music, to the trova, the guaracha,
the son, the bolero.''
According to Delgado, the success of Mexican popster Luis Miguel's CD
trilogy of Cuban and Mexican boleros made Cuban artists of Delgado's age
realize there was an international appetite for traditional music.
``[The timba generation] were writing music exclusively for musicians,
not for the public. But as we came in contact with other nationalities,
we realized that if other people like authentic Cuban music, why should
we distort it?
''These people who are leaving us,'' says Delgado, ``they are teaching
us how to follow in their footsteps.''
No comments:
Post a Comment