by Danilo Navas – Editor

	Afro Bop Alliance – Una Más OA2 Records – USA “I must confess That when I received the call from Joe McCarthy (leader of Afro Bop) to perform as guest pianist for un upcoming show, featuring Una Más, I had not heard their music, although I was familiar with them… Needless to say, after listening to the music, I was extremely impressed with the choice and the complexity of the charts…” Luis Perdomo, Pianist/Composer
	Poncho Sanchez & Terence Blanchard Chano y Dizzy (Concord Picante – USA) The drum and the horn, an inspired duet that played a vital role in the birth of Cubop. Poncho Sanchez and Terence Blanchard, two Living Masters in their own right, pay a heartfelt tribute to Chano Pozo and Dizzy Gillespie, two Masters whose legacy continues to expand in the ample vocabulary of Jazz music. Their musical spirits are more present than ever on Chano Y Dizzy!
	Chilcano – Madera Corazón Saponegro Records – USA/Peru Led by Afro-Peruvian jazz innovator Gabriel Alegria, Chilcano has made long strides since its conception in September of 2010. Consisting of trumpet (Alegria), baritone saxophone (Wood), bass (Da Silva), keys (Prado), guitar (Fisher) and drums (Doing), Chilcano performs weekly on Saturdays at Tutuma Social Club, and went on a concert tour in Peru last summer, 2011.
	Daniel López Infanzón Quinteto 8 Momentos, 8 Fotografías Self produced – Mexico In his early thirties, Daniel López Infanzón is an accomplished pianist and bandleader whose compositions are impregnated with the culture of his native Mexico, where he resides and evolves as an artist. Firmly planted on his roots, Daniel mixes in a delightful concoction of international musical flavors and rhythms.
	David Murray Cuban Ensemble Plays Nat King Cole en Español (Motéma Music – USA) Nat King Cole’s Latin influenced recordings of 1958 and 1962 were performed in both Spanish and Portuguese. Cole spoke neither, but sang the lyrics phonetically, maintaining his signature phrasing style. Although it sounded odd to native Spanish and Portuguese speakers, his obvious affection for the songs beloved world-wide by Latinos was accepted as it opened the door to a new audience.
	Jovino Santos Neto – Currents Adventure Music – USA/Brazil Jovino Santos Neto, more than any Brazilian musician, with the possible exceptions of Egberto Gismonti, Nana Vasconcelos, Sergio Santos—vastly different artists from each other as they are from Santos Neto—yet who revel in the deep roots of African, native as much as they do on European sources. These artists are in the forefront of a neo-Brazilian revolution that is setting the world on fire.
	Mario Adnet – More Jobim Jazz Adventure Music – USA/Brazil Mario Adnet may well be one of the finest living orchestrators in contemporary musical idioms… He combines the skill of Gil Evans in his use of woodwinds and brass, with a stylish use of strings and percussion and although he has not written much for truly large ensembles he is easily the peer of the Duke, or at least the Duke Ellington of small and medium sized Brazilian ensembles.
	Miguel Zenón – Alma Adentro: The Puerto Rican Songbook (Marsalis Music – USA) Being a recipient of the coveted MacArthur Fellowship has given Miguel Zenón the freedom to pursue great projects. Alma Adentro is an extraordinary exploration of the Puerto Rican Songbook. The true soul of a nation reflected in its musical creations. The result has invaluable quality. Variations on a theme that are rooted in the tradition, elevating the standards to new musical heights.
	Paquito D’Rivera & The Madrid Big Band – Clazz, Continental Latin Jazz (WEA – Spain) Todo esto ocurría en Febrero de 2011 de forma simultánea en Madrid y Barcelona. En el escenario uno de los más grandes músicos del mundo. Paquito D’Rivera, un genial saxofonista y clarinetista que nos encandiló a todos con su impresionante directo acompañado por La Madrid Big Band de 18 músicos que sonó con la espectacularidad que requería el momento… chumanceralatinjazz.blogspot.com
	Sebastian Schunke – Life and Death Connector Records – Germany On “Life and Death, the newest CD of German pianist and composer Sebastian Schunke, he presents a more mature, accomplished vision of his musical work. The eternal dichotomy of Human existence. His classical training exudes throughout his compositions, melding with Jazz and just the necessary Latin tinge to present refined arrangements that defy any genre.

10 years of La-33

By Oscar Montagut

Bogota, Colombia – November, 2011

This year the Colombian band La-33 is celebrating 10 years of playing old-style salsa. After all this time there is an enviable balance for this salsa group. The band has recorded three albums, sold more than 40.000 copies independently, and toured many countries like Mexico, Venezuela, Poland, Morocco, Denmark, Canada, Italy, England, Ecuador, France, Spain, Germany, Japan, Slovenia, Czech Republic, Romania, India, Norway and the United States among many others. La-33 has performed in the most prestigious festivals in the world with salsa and Latin legends like Buena Vista Social Club, Alfredo de la Fé, Yuri Buenaventura, Henry Fiol, Cheo Feliciano, Chucho Valdés, Los Van Van, Joe Arroyo, Orquesta Aragón, Ismael Miranda, and Orishas, just to mention a few.

Their songs are part of 20 compilations (including the prestigious Putumayo Records and Sony Music Greece), and several movies like “Paraiso Travel” and “Perro no Come Perro”. So far the band has played more than 1,000 concerts in the five continents and it is one of the few bands who sell a respectable number of CD copies monthly in store locations despite the mp3 download habits people have adopted nowadays.

The dreamers

I met Sergio and Santiago Mejia at Tayrona, an amazing natural park in Colombia, nine years ago. I was unpacking my bag to start putting up my tent when I saw a skinny, bearded guy sitting on an old hammock playing a bossanova song with an old guitar; this was Sergio Mejia, the director of La-33. By looking at him I noticed right away that this was a guy who was passionate about music. A quiet guy came to join Sergio in the impromptu jam session. This was Santiago, his brother, the pianist in La-33, who had a Colombian drum to complete the unexpected concert with no other audience but me. That week, in Tayrona park, I listened to them talk about their salsa project, the La-33 band. Sergio gave me a copy of the first home-made album of his band. I could not wait to listen to it. I grabbed my portable cd player and started listening to it right away. I remember my expression as I listened to it. I was astonished by the unique sound they produced. Although I did like their style I was not sure if they would seriously record that album, sell copies and play in different places. My attitude was a reflection of the times; we were in a decade where classical salsa had almost disappeared because of romantic salsa and reggaeton. Thinking about producing classical salsa seemed like an anticipated suicide. I enjoyed those vacation days with the Mejia brothers and some days later we said good-bye and good luck.

Two Children Playing to Be Stars

The Mejia brothers did not come from a musical dynasty. They were just like any other people who loved music and dreamed about being composers or super stars. Their father Humberto was really their first stimulus to feel music and start understanding and loving it. Santiago and Sergio were given a guitar and a tiple when they were seven years old. Humberto often played the organ with them close by and with their new instruments the Mejia brothers started their first set of simple gigs and jams. Santiago and Sergio’s parents were not a traditional musical family like many others in Colombia, but this was not a barrier to dreaming about going further in this difficult field.

They were 13 years old when they started watching the concerts of famous American and Latin-American rock stars on television. That rock period was enough to encourage them to dream about being superstars. So the brothers started a classic rock band which played Led Zeppelin, Metallica and Soda Stereo’s songs. Their first musical studies were at a private musical school called Federico Chopin. After one year of musical studies Sergio’s father brought them an electric guitar and a keyboard and since then their discipline for exploring music has not stopped.

Before the Success

While at the University of the Andes Sergio was part of a ska band called Sonora Cienfuegos, a kind of Latin ska band. He studied composition at this university for thirteen months. Sergio expected his teachers to teach him about composition but that did not happen, instead he learned more general ideas about music and composers. He quit the university program in the middle of the second year. During the last semester at this university he knew that he would leave this prestigious institution and start taking classes at Escuela Colombiana de Jazz (Jazz Colombian School). At the same time, Santiago started classes with the Cuban musician Eduardo Pineda, and the Colombian composer Ricardo Uribe. Santiago finished high school and registered in a graphic design program but he never stopped studying piano. At this moment Sergio began to develop an interest in Brazilian music and together they started listening to Colombian salsa groups like Fruko and other Colombian salsa musicians. This was their first foray into the world of salsa rhythm.

At one point Sergio decided to go to Canada because he thought that nobody in Colombia could make a living by being a musician. While in Canada, he took classes and learned about how to compose jazz and rock. Ironically it was in Canada that Sergio found more Latin music material to study salsa than in Colombia, so he began to send this material to his brother Santiago who, by that time was in love with piano-style salsa and a new movement of music that came out with representative bands like Curupira. After being out of his country for some time, Sergio began to feel an increasing sense of what it meant to be a Colombian. He realized that being away from Colombia for some time only made him feel more Colombian. In the midst of the wintery weather in Canada, salsa music made Sergio feel very special because it was his company and a beautiful way to get over the loneliness at times. He felt somewhat incomplete when Canadian people interested in music asked him about Colombian music and he did not have a complete landscape to share with them. So Sergio decided after a time to come back to the land he knew was in his heart.

La-33: Sergio Mejía–bass, director; Santiago Mejía-piano; Guillermo Celis-voice (guiro); David Cantillo-voice (maracas); Pablo Martínez-voice (percussion); Cipriano Rojas-congas; Juan David Fernandez-timbal; Diego Sánchez-bongoes; Juan Felipe Cárdenas-saxophone; Roland Nieto-trumpet; Vladimir Romero-trombone (white shirt); José Miguel Vega-Trombone. Photo: Cecilia Rocca

La-33, the Bogota Salsa Band

Back in Colombia, in 2001, the Mejia brothers started studying Colombian folklore and decided to start a band. Their headquarters was the traditional house at 33 street in the Teusaquillo neighbourhood of Colombia. They remember how they started with Guillermo Celis, the bands’ vocalist, to perform classical salsa songs like “Sandunguera”, “Me voy pal pueblo”, “La India Catalina” and “Son de la Loma”. Sergio remembers how Guillermo introduced the musicians with false first and last names. After a bit of back and forth, the new band completed its members and started playing a lot for little money, but they didn’t care, they preferred to play, that was the deal.

La 33, salsa band, used their music to express what was happening on the street. They believe that part of the success of the band is that they think out of the “square” interpretation of the salsa genre and propose a different way to think and play salsa music. To be from Bogota, to come from a non-Caribbean context and to have a rock background were really good advantages to reinterpret salsa, and this has been perhaps, the main hook that attracts people’s attention. La-33 offered people a different way to play salsa music. Playing salsa music in Bogota was a great advantage given that most salsa music hails from the Caribbean regions in Colombia. Santiago says: “The way you talk is expressed in the way you play the piano, it is the way you put emphasis on it, this is about printing your own label”.

The band was created in a really difficult time for classical salsa music, La-33’s particular salsa style was a unique blend of 70’s styles like boogaloo and descarga, both of which were not particularly in fashion at that time. During these years, romantic salsa was the hit in any corner of Colombia. La-33 not only had to struggle with their style but also with the huge selling crisis that the general music industry was experiencing. The mp3 download software on the internet abruptly decreased in-store music sales. La 33 was so brave because they bet everything they had that 70’s style salsa could still be sold in a time when others thought it might be crazy. Sergio and Santiago started going to visit recording companies in Bogota to offer their demo but the answer was always a “no”. The managers of those records companies argued that the style was very out of date. These managers proposed to the Mejia brothers that if they produced tropipop (a mixture of tropical and pop music) they would have a chance to record. So after these negative responses the Mejia brothers got tired of knocking on doors and decided to invest all they had to record their first album independently.

But it was only until May of 2003 when La-33 decided to present themselves to the Bogota audience as a formal band. The launch of their concert took place at the band’s branch, located at 33 street in the capital of the country.

The Ferocity of The Mambo Panther

The first album carried the same name of the band: La-33. Ten songs composed (most of them) by the brothers. The amazing hit “La Pantera Mambo” (The Mambo Panther) was an adaptation of the classical jazz piece “Pink Panther”, the soundtrack of the unforgettable American cartoon composed in 1964 by Henry Mancini. That song was enough to put La-33 on the map in any place around the main cities of Colombia. By themselves, the band started selling thousands of copies in a really short time.  The recording companies, which had rejected them before, began calling them to record and sign contracts, but it was too late, La-33 was not interested in having any relations with record companies – they were already independent.

The album was constantly selling copies in many places, few bands were doing this. Two months after the release, the song “La Pantera Mambo” turned into one of the most popular songs in Japan and Italy.

Before they reached the prestigious musical charts, the group played in downtown places in Bogota, but when their success flourished the band was offered to play in the most prestigious and fancy places around the city. What is really remarkable about this salsa band is that they achieved to put “La Pantera Mambo”, without paying one cent to radio stations, in the top as one of the most important Latin songs in the country. Listeners persistently called local radio stations to request the song, so much so that there was no other option than to play it, turning “La Pantera Mambo” into a song that could be heard in any part of the city. The same happened to “Manuela” another of La-33’s songs which was a hit in Cali, the capital of salsa, where it was played for more than 13 weeks on popular radio stations.

Their hits allowed them to start playing in many places frequently. This situation was incredible because this classical-style salsa band was taking the place of romantic salsa ones around the country. Several years passed before the second album came out. The Mejia brothers think that music is not necessarily about producing an album each year, it is more about feeling the music and composition, and letting it go with the flow, according to them, an album has its own rhythm to be created.

In 2005 the band was invited to the popular salsa festival “Salsa al Parque” in Bogota, the perfect place to show critics and spectators their talent and commitment to this genre. That same year their only album was considered one of the best albums by the Colombian magazine Semana. From that year on, they began nonstop tours around the country. During the same time, the band traveled to Cali, the paradise of salsa music, where they performed in an event called, the 1^st Encounter of Collectors, in the working neighbourhood of Cali. Later the band was invited to Quito, Ecuador to play at Seseribó, a salsa temple in that city. The success of La-33 was unbelievable. Everybody was talking about it. The songs on this album were being played in cafes, clubs, discos, and even shopping malls.

By 2006 La-33 had a busy schedule playing in places all over the country and for the first time the band went to Europe to present its show at three festivals; Latinoamericando Festival, Pole Pole Festival and the Antilliaanse Festival.

La-33 in concert. Photo: Kike Barona

Enjoy it! Just play it!

In 2007 the second album “Gozalo” (Enjoy it) was released. With this work La-33 kept its particular sound, built upon classical rhythms like descarga, bomba, montunos, and boogaloo. To this album, the Mejia brothers added fusions with porro, cumbia, and latin jazz. The opening song is called “Descarga”, a fast-beat song which reminds us of the sounds of Joe Cuba in his best moments. The refrain is absolutely catchy, “La descarga me llama” (The descarga calls me), full of flavor and color. Each song in this album has something unexpected, for example in the powerful “Quiereme Na’ma” (Love Me, Nothing Else), the trombone played at the same time as the pregon, by the vocalist Pablo Martínez, produces an emotional and touching result. The piece “Plinio Guzman” makes us remember the genius Colombian composer Lucho Bermudez, this song is an exquisite musical artwork with many elements from the Colombian rhythm porro. The influence of Latin jazz is obvious when you listen to “La tormenta” (The storm), “My Favourite Things”, even “Gozalo” (Enjoy it). Long solos of brasses and percussions are part of these songs.

With a new album in place the band increased the number of tours. During this year La-33 was invited to events like Festival Weltnacht, Festival Oye Afrika, Salsa Festival Torino, Mediterraneo Festival and Latin Village Festival among others. For the second time their work was enlisted in the best records of the year in Colombia.

La-33 is very united in terms of rehearsals and processes of composition. Normally the Mejia brothers bring to the rehearsal the structure of a new song. They often collaborate with the other musicians in the band so that their songs are composed together with their other band members. David Cantillo “Malpelo” is a creative singer who loves to participate in the process of composition and has found in this band the possibility to express his musical ideas. Each musician adds a special ingredient to the project. Some of them have a strong rock and roll, metal, funk and tropical background so they infuse their style into what they play, and this makes the band sound absolutely different constantly catching people’s attention. The timbale, for example, shows a lot of patterns used in rock and jazz and the piano breaks the classical tumbao pattern to make blues and soul lines.

In 2008 the band had an insanely full agenda. La-33 had concerts in many countries in Europe and Asia, presenting their show in the most prestigious festivals like Tempo Latino Festival, Amsterdam Roots Festival, Varsovia Salsa Festival and Fête de la Musique, just to mention a few. For the first time the band toured 8 cities in Japan. More and more festivals were part of La-33’s life. Having so many concerts to perform did not allow the band to produce more albums but they were always aware they had to keep working hard because people in many countries wanted more La-33.

Be Careful!

2009 was the year the band released its third album called “Ten Cuidado” (Be careful), a work which went back to the pure roots of the old-style of salsa, what some have called the “salsa dura” (hard salsa). This album is a return to the social message that music in the seventies had. The song, which has the same name as the album, is a good example of the intention to touch the mind of the listener; it is an instrumental piece with a great percussion structure, particular elements of flamenco and a mix of New York and Puertorican piano lines. In this opening song it is not necessary to have a completed lyric to understand what the message of the song is about, the refrain “Be Careful” is more than enough.

Maybe one of the most socially profound songs is “Conciencia Intranquila” (Unrested Conscience) which talks about fairness and society and uses the voices of social leaders as part of the background voices in the song. This album showcases the band’s like for boogaloo with two zesty songs “Funky Boogaloo” and “Mambo con Boogaloo”, musical pieces artistically played, enhancing this particular sound. But not only the boogaloo is honoured in this album, the classical salsa songs complete this work. “Salsa Resucitó” (Salsa resuscited) is a symbolic song full of melodical richness coming from the bass and the piano, the instruments played by the Mejia brothers. Continuing with the famous “La Pantera Mambo” the band recorded a salsa version of the well-known Sting’s song “Roxanne”. To record a song composed from another genre is always a risk because nobody ever knows what to expect. In this case the result was an moving interpretation performance by Pablo Martinez who infused the song with his high vocal tones and bluesy voice accompanied by a wonderful strong Latin beat arranged by Sergio who started this piece with a bolero, almost a ballad song, which slowly turns into a montuno and ends in an exciting descarga full of emotion and vibrancy.

This same year, the band continued playing in Europe, this time visiting new countries like Finland, Switzerland and Norway. La-33 was invited to more and more festivals like Roskilde Festival, World Village Festival and Jazz Sous Les  Pommiers Festival among many others.

The Mejia brothers think that three albums are a small amount of productions for a band which has toured more than any other in recent time in Colombia, but they are convinced that each album comes with its own rhythm and each song needs time to be ready to be composed, recorded and played. Santiago and Sergio are not worried about the length or the “catchiness” of the song, but about making music in a pure and free way, letting the sound and poetry come to them, for them this is the essential part of the musical creative process.

La-33. Compilations and CDs

Fame and Music

The name of the band is mentioned on many other prestigious music stages. In 2010, La-33 performed in the Great Concert of the World Bicentenary in India. Sooner or later Sergio had to go back to Canada to reencounter what he had left behind ten years ago, a land which had showed him how beautiful Latin music is. This time his reunion with Canada was not to listen to other musicians, but to show what he himself had learned since his first encounter with the colossal country. This time around in Canada, La-33 performed on some of the most prestigious stages, Harborfront Centre and the Montreal Jazz Festival. The rest of North America now had the chance to see the creators of “The Pantera Mambo” watching, listening and enjoying the descarga of these Colombian musicians in places like Sunfest and the Jay Pritzker Pavilion Stage in Chicago. That year La-33 received two Shock awards both associated with being the best band.

The Mejia brothers do not like when people refer to them as “famous” because they don’t think that they are. For them fame is a dangerous game where ego can win and put people down. They prefer to be normal people, people who go to the little store to buy simple things. They know how fame can turn out and because of this they try to maintain the life that they had before La-33 came about. They think that taking advantage of fame is nothing about being a real musician; music is more than popularity and money.

Projects and Dreams Come True

La-33 is working on a new album without any rush. They are independent and want to live that way without any kind of pressure. For now, after many concerts in different cities around the world including the Globalfest in New York, the band has achieved one of the most incredible outcomes a salsa orchestra can get; La-33 was invited to be one of the artists to record an album to pay tribute to the most representative salsa composer of all time, Tite Curet Alonso. This big project is sponsored by the Banco Popular de Puerto Rico, the same who produced the famous DVD “Encuentro” which brought the legends Ruben Blades, Juan Luis Guerra and Robi Draco Rosa together on the same stage. For Tite’s tribute the song chosen by La-33 is “Marejada Feliz” which was already recorded in San Juan and is now being mastered, an album that half of the world is waiting for.

One day, ten years ago, the Mejia brothers decided to create a band to play salsa in a different way. Years later I met Sergio again to know about the details of that dream that he had vividly spoke about when he was in that hammock in Tayrona Park, playing a montuno with his old guitar, in front of the sea. “I love to say things but in a constructive way, we, as Colombians, always criticise but we do not do anything to change, we have to say it but to propose something at the same time” says the director of La-33. Sergio, Santiago and La-33 will continue expressing their music in a constructive way giving salsa lovers a vibrant and touching sound, full of a particular taste in this rebirth salsa style. I do hope to see this project on the scene for many, many more years to come, constantly inspiring others to create and express. As La-33 says, “Gózalo!”, Enjoy it!

Latinjazznet.com profiles a dedicated griot and master percussionist
By Chico Alvarez Peraza

Mr. ANGEL RODRIGUEZ is a Brooklyn resident whom I met many years ago when I began performing with the LATIN JAZZ COALITION, a creative music ensemble led by trombonist Demetrious Kastaris. We used to do a lot of those city park gigs together and Demetrious would always feature Angel on an array of percussion instruments; most worthy of mention was his artistry on the shekeré. That’s when I learned that he was also a dedicated teacher and a devotee of traditional Afro-Cuban cult music.

Until recently, Angel was director of Mind-Builders Creative Arts Center, in the borough of the Bronx, in their music department, where he worked closely with the executive director, facilitating and coordinating the music departments, instructions, recitals, program activities, equipment, materials, and community service mini-performances. Angel figured importantly in the recruitment, hiring, and supervision of all new staff, as well as work development at the work place for an ongoing assessment, and quarterly evaluations of music instructors.

An accomplished performing artist and a committed master drummer whose main goal is to preserve the traditional Afro-Cuban rhythms and to see more and more young people become involved in the proper learning of African hand percussion, he has actively sought out, recruited, registered and auditioned hundreds of students for merit/talent scholarships.

In 1990 Angel traveled as a percussion instructor from New York to California, on through Florida, Texas, Connecticut and Washington DC, giving formal and informal instruction in world percussion, with specialization in Afro-Caribbean styles. In 1997 he toured for five weeks in Poland as a percussionist and actor.

On the local New York salsa scene he regularly performed with such luminaries as Paquito Guzman, Lalo Rodríguez, Hector Tricoche, Junior Gonzalez and Marvin Santiago. In 1990 and 1991 he appeared on “Buenos Dias Mediodia” an entertainment service; namely, a Spanish-language television program associated with Univision.

But Angel Rodríguez the musician was always attracted to literature and writing, as well as academia. In 2002 Angel authored “Musicians in the South Bronx,” published in the New York Post’s 200th Anniversary Edition. There were, for example, multiple articles that he authored from 2000 through 2006 for “Hunt’s Point Alive” (in the Bronx); he was mentioned by Nina Siegel in her New York Times article “In the Footsteps of The Mambo Kings”; as well as by Steven Sapp/La Colora “Universes” – referencing “The Point C.D.C. (The Point Community Development Corporation – more on that organization in a moment).

Angel’s work experience has roots that extend beyond the high school, university and intermediate school level in New York. Obviously, he is a product of the streets. While still very young he performed for patients at various hospitals and institutions. He appeared at Harlem’s famed Apollo Theatre in 1987 through 1989, and in 1993 he appeared on Univision’s Channel 41 in New Jersey. From 1996 to 2004 he worked as a teacher, councelor and producer for Arts Connections, Inc., here in New York City.

When I first met Angel he was hosting the “Mambo to Hip Hop Tour”, a musical heritage tour of the South Bronx helping to preserve latin, jazz and hip hop history. Right around that time he was also busy creating, coordinating, producing and hosting the “Living Legend Series”, a musical tribute to the many unsung heroes of music, dance and poetry. He did this while he was still the music program director and coordinator at The Point Community Development Corporation. I personally witnessed the joy he brought to those musicians and other artists who had been overlooked by the mainstream for years, and I could relate to their appreciation for having been recognized “while they were still able to appreciate it”. From 1995 to 2002 Angel was more than just an administrator; he booked, produced and managed every facet of the series. A man with tremendous energy and a positive attitude toward getting things done right.

By 2003 he had gone on to become an independent contractor in New York and Los Angeles, working as a consultant, educator, organizer, performer and producer; helping to conceptualize and produce projects related to community, youth, gangs, and issues of inner city living. He counselled educators to empower children so that they could steer away from drugs, stay out of gangs and in school; he also assisted students and aspiring musicians with career development.

Angel’s additional responsibilities with the Point CDC included teaching percussion workshops to youth ages 14 to 21, coordinating performances, creating intergenerational support values, and assisting with the re-envisioning project at Hunt’s Point in the South Bronx – helping others get directly involved with the redevelopment of their own community. One might say that he was a pillar of the community, in a strictly non-political sense of the word.

Beginning in 2000, he performed for three consecutive years with the aforementioned Latin Jazz Coalition; as well as with Tito Puente, raising money for children with Leukemia, HIV/AIDS, etc. In 2003 he worked with Hip Hop at the New Victory Theatre as percussionist, actor and dancer. And then again in 2004 with Hip Hop at Lincoln Center, as a percussionist, actor and dancer (for Full Circle Productions, New York).In 2005 he was featured with the Welfare Poets at the Venezuela 16th Annual Youth Festival, as well as with the V89 Summer Soulstice Celebration in 2005, where he was featured as a guest performer, at WVFS Tallahassee/621 Gallery in Florida.

In 2007 Angel joined renowned scholars such as Dr. Jack Chen, David Montgomery and Dr. Juan Flores as a panelist with the New York University Panel of American Historians. Several discussions were held with grass roots organizations through out New York City and the country. The premise was to conserve these organizations that service communities through Arts and Community Organizing and what impact it has on a community without any resources.

Soon, he began to receive more recognition, and in 2007 and 2008 he became the coordinator for the Fine Art Center at the University of Massachusetts‘ New World Theatre Youth program Project 2050, an organization whose goal was to bring together local and international artists, scholars, youth participants, theatre production teams and New World Theatre staff in an exciting ten day summer intensive that culminates into a wonderful performance, manifesting community engagement and social activism with various summer intensives, workshops, projects, programming, youth meetings, parent meetings, and community partners meetings throughout the year. Youth participants are also hired as office associates where they learn structure, systems, strategic planning, decision-making processes that ultimately give them positive outcomes for future references.

Angel also served as the director of the Music Department at the Mind-Builders Creative Arts Center, in the Bronx from 2008 to 2009. He continued to perform, turning in some fine performances in 2007 with Etienne Charles and Culture Shock at MOMA; Harlem Week Trinidad and Jazz Riverside Theatre in 2009.

Since the beginning of 2010 up until to the present time Angel has been working on two musical projects; LA TIMBA DE AYER, which encompasses traditional Afro-Cuban genres such as guaguancó, makúta and yambú, among others; and THE ABRAZOS ORCHESTRA, a multi-genre ensemble that he describes as having mas salsa que pesca’o (more sauce than fish).

Mr. Rodríguez was recently made a grandfather and has been hanging out with his first grandson Angel Ruben Rodríguez III, who is now three years of age and is already playing congas and surfing the internet. Angel is scheduled to begin work at a men’s shelter for young veterans of war who have found themselves to be homeless and in need of transition back into society. Using theatre and music as his forum, Angel has succeeded in creating an impetus environment wherein our society will see positive results in such areas as high self-esteem, respect for one’s self and moral values. This is the work that Angel loves the most, to help humanity in any way that he can. Some might argue that it is a rough road that he has chosen to travel on, and others might even wonder how the hell he does it. The word that immediately comes to my mind is dedication.

Music is the pill that he takes daily to deal with work, love, friendships, and life itself for that matter.

Angel has recently begun coordinating the LIVING LEGENDS TRIBUTES through The Women Health and Education Co. (WHEDCO) and The Bronx Music Heritage Center, in association with Bill Aguado, Bobby Sancho, Alvan Colon of Pregones Theater and Wally Edgecomb of Hostos Community College. He is also working on curating  a show at Symphony Space with the great Mr. Arturo O’Farrill called “LITTLE BROWN PEOPLE”, toward the end of the year. This project will include performing artists in all related genres, plus a special tribute to The NeoRican Poets Cafe. It has been planned to be a two day festival, where Mr. Rodríguez will also be performing on percussion and vocals as well. It is scheduled to take place from May 11th-12th, 2012 at Symphony Space in Manhattan.

Latinjazznet.com takes a great deal of pride in highlighting ANGEL RODRIGUEZ, and we proudly salute this energetic artist for his many contributions to the Afro-Caribbean Experience, American Jazz and the arts in general.

10 years ago, Chico Alvarez Peraza wrote this article, filling up a void in the online world. There was almost nothing written about Emiliano on the World Wide Web. As a tribute to his memory, and as a celebration of his life and his musical legacy, we now present an updated version of that article written in July of 2001. Read on and enjoy!

NUEVA VISION
EMILIANO SALVADOR

By Chico Alvarez Peraza

Talk to anyone about Cuban piano players and invariably the name EMILIANO SALVADOR will pop up. Most will agree that Emiliano was in a class by himself. His personality and individualism as a soloist were strong enough to assure immediate recognition, yet he was never obtrusive to the point of using gimmicks. He was a brilliant pianist, composer and arranger, and a seminal figure in the resurgence of Latin jazz, a style that had long ago been given up for dead. He was also a team player who considered himself an integral part of the whole, as evidenced by his initial release for EGREM, “Nueva Vision”. For this historic 1979 recording session, Emiliano united 17 of the island’s top musicians, including vocalists Bobby Carcassés and Pablito Milanés, guitarist Ahmed Barroso and horn players Paquito D’Rivera (alto and soprano sax), Arturo Sandoval and Jorge Varona (trumpets), who were all members of the Irakere band. And for that very special “ethnic” flavor or “sabor cubano” he also included in the line-up Manuel “Guajiro” Mirabal, Alberto Lara and Andrés Castro on trumpets. Andrés, by the way, was one of the founding members of the famed Orquesta de Los Hermanos Castro. Trombonist Lázaro González was also on hand, as well as bassist Jorge Reyes and percussionists Frank Bejerano, Panchito Bejerano, Amadito Valdés, Roberto García and Rolando Valdés. Even more impressive than the personnel on this album was the material. Emiliano wrote all of the tunes except “Son De La Loma” and “Convergencia”, two “oldies” from the venerable Cuban Book of Son. His unique approach to arranging revitalized these standards, transforming them into fresh versions. No arranger had ever given these classics such a unique treatment before, nor has anyone done so since then.

Some of the musicians which I’ve interviewed, and who where present during these historic sessions have commented that Emiliano transformed the whole project into a labor of love and that he actually did have a “Nueva Visión”. To him, the title was not merely a commercial term, nor was it in any way an abstract idea but a “new vision” as to where jazz, and particularly Cuban jazz was headed. Remember that this was 1979, a time when the Fania records company was at its height and “disco” music was all the rage. Emiliano Salvador, like others on the island of Cuba, and even some ambitious rebels here in New York, were all sharing that same “vision.”

The seeds for the musical revolution had been sown as early as 1974, first with Chucho Valdés and Irakere in Cuba and then in New York with Cortijo Y Su Máquina del Tiempo. (Also worthy of mention is one Mr. Jorge Millet, who labored along these same lines on the neighboring island of Puerto Rico). Yet, it would be a whole decade and a half before this concept would begin to flourish. Meanwhile, “salsa erotica” (aka “salsa romantica”) and merengue were just beginning to dominate the airwaves in New York, Puerto Rico and Miami, and innovative ideas such as those that Emiliano had recorded were just not “happening” commercially. The so-called “salsa” music that was being played and recorded locally had grown stale and insipid, and the only real “alternative” to the stagnant “commercial” sound that was saturating the market was coming from the SAR/Guajiro label, a company out of New York which was owned by three Cuban entrepreneurs, one of them being Roberto Torres, a noteworthy sonero from Güines. With the help of veteran engineer Jon Fausty, Torres turned out many fine recordings by the cream of New York-based Cuban musicians. The SAR catalog catered mainly to die-hard followers of the “típico” sound, a style that was reminiscent of the pre-Castro era. Although they achieved moderate success stateside, their biggest revenues came from West Africa and South America. Musically, SAR did not compete with Fania, but the fledgling empire may have perceived them as a potential threat, and so the record wars began. SAR began to acquire many artists that had fallen out of favor with Fania, and they inevitably created their own all-star group as well. Coincidentally, during the time that the SAR All-Stars were beginning to carve a niche for themselves the popularity of the Fania All-Stars began to wane. It was a power struggle, for sure. But that was just on the local scene, or was it?

Meanwhile, back in Cuba, the state-owned label Areito was busy putting together its own all-star group, Las Estrellas De Areito. Although Areito did not see SAR as a threat (musically speaking that is), they did acknowledge the fact that SAR’s success with cover versions of the old Cuban tunes was somehow overshadowing them. So they quickly began to play “catch up”. They gathered the cream of the crop, pulled out the old charts and the competition was on. Whatever your preference may have been, one thing was for sure; the old Cuban “sound” was now becoming more and more popular worldwide. Areito saw SAR’s popularity as a window of opportunity. Without realizing it, the SAR label had opened the doors for many of Cuba’s veteran performers, many of which had been languishing in obscurity, forgotten outside of Cuba. That was the music scene midway through the nineteen-eighties. While veteran Cuban musicians in both the U.S.A. and Cuba were trying to revive the “old sound”, a whole new generation was busy reinventing it. We all have vivid recollections as to when the “new” recordings by Los Van Van, Son 14 and the rest of the “new crop” began to trickle in, and we all remember holding our breath, hoping for a miracle.

Although stylistically Emiliano Salvador and Rubén González (the Areito All Stars pianist) were far apart, their roots were the same. Those of us who had heard these musicians, along with countless others, knew that the time was near when Cuban music would once again explode. Most of us had our first exposure to these musicians via the Típica ’73 album “Intercambio Cultural” and later through the bootlegged recordings that kept coming into the states, as well as through the legally acquired sessions on Barbaro Records. We all knew in our hearts that the home-grown Cuban music was unstoppable, and that it was just a matter of time before we would witness first-hand their awesome power. We all believed that there was still hope for a meaningful cultural interchange. And then along came cowboy Ronald Reagan, and threw a monkey wrench in the machinery. It was shortly afterwards that the bottom fell out. Frustrated, the creative minds went underground, ushering in the “dark age” of Latin music. But let’s get back to Emiliano.

He was born on August 19, 1951, in the picturesque town of Puerto Padre, in the former province of Oriente. As a youth he played piano, acordeon and drums with his father and mentor, Emiliano Salvador Sr., who directed a “jazzband” (the name given in Cuba to the big band orchestras patterned after those of Basie, Ellington and Dorsey). They were known as Los Perversos (the perverse ones), and along with the big band of Chepín Choven they attained much popularity throughout the eastern region of the island. In the mid-sixties Emiliano received a scholarship to study with the Escuela Nacional De Arte (National School of Art) in La Habana, where he excelled as a percussionist and a trap drummer as well as a pianist. He studied instrumentation, orchestration and composition with Fred Smith and Leo Brouwer, and furthered his piano studies with María Antonieta Henríquez.

It’s my guess that Emiliano’s quest for individuality probably began the very first time that he sat down at a piano. No doubt that during those formative years he must have come under the strong influence of musicians whom he admired, for various reasons. Each one must have contributed some element to Emiliano’s development. Icons not only of Cuban popular music but also jazz players who eventually helped to shape his style and define his musical direction. At some point these influences coalesced, so that by the time that Emiliano recorded the aforementioned album, his personality both as a soloist and composer were fully formed. As individual as he may have seemed on the surface, Emiliano’s approach was nevertheless, pluralistic. He harbored two distinct personalities, which at times differed greatly and at times differed only slightly. This “dualism”, if you will, had been nurtured by those early influences and fermented during the course of time and experience. Technically, the abilities that were exemplified on either side of his musical experience were kept in perfect balance, and one side never overshadowed the other in meaning. He may have been a visionary, but he was also an incurable romantic, enamored with the simple beauties of life. The vivacious curves of a woman, the colors of the Cuban sky, or the opulence of the land were his inspiration. Take for example “A Puerto Padre Me Voy”. Upon hearing these sounds and listening to Pablito’s interpretations, some of us began to question the established categories and labels. “Salsa” was no longer a valid term for us. La Cubanía had come of age.

About thirty years ago -before there was ever a “Nueva Visión”- for Emiliano and his contemporaries there existed the symbiotic Grupo de Experimentación Sonora del ICAIC, spearheaded by Leo Brouwer, Federico Smith and Juan Elósegui, among others. The type of experimentation that was taking place within this group may have been ambiguous at first, but it was nevertheless very enriching in terms of elevating Cuban music. Noel Nicola, who was studying ethnology with the Academia de Ciencias (under Argeliers León), Sergio Vitier of the Orquesta de Música Moderna and Eduardo Ramos of Sonorama 6, as well as Martín Rojas, one of the founders of the Nueva Trova and musicians Carlos del Puerto, Changuito Quintana and Rembert Egües were some of the protagonists that early on had begun to re-shape the way that Cubans played music. Such was also the case with Emiliano, who changed the way that pianists in Cuba played. While most Latin pianists in the states clearly hung on to the rootsy style of Peruchín and Lili Martínez (there were some exceptions), Emiliano transformed the pianistic tradition in Cuba. Out of this school came Gonzálo Rubalcaba, Ernán López-Nussa and a few others, all very important. Others, like Chucho Valdés had obviously preceded Emiliano, and of course before Chucho there was the very innovative “Peruchín” Justiz. No doubt other players inspired him as well, such as Dámaso Pérez Prado, Frank Emilio Flynn and Bebo Valdés. After he thoroughly studied, absorbed and digested the various styles of these masters, Emiliano did what was expected of any great Cuban musician, he broke out with his “own thing”, creating a whole new school of piano along the way.

The collective work of the Grupo de Experimentación Sonora del ICAIC paved the way for new forms of composing, arranging and communicating ideas. Internal conflicts soon became evident, and some of the founding members moved on to other projects. By 1978 it was no longer a working unit. While the group became known primarily for their film scores, they also served as a workshop, a catalyst for the talents of the individual players. Emiliano was one of those who benefited greatly from his association with ICAIC. Subsequently, he became Pablo Milanés’ musical director and arranger, and together they worked at “El Gato Tuerto”, a favorite nightspot in La Habana of the avant garde “feeling” movement, which was a jazz-tinged style of song more akin to the bolero than anything else. He soon found himself in much demand, the accompanist of choice to the island’s top vocalists, recording and traveling extensively during those years. It was a very rigorous schedule, which may have eventually taken its toll on Emiliano. Quietly and without much fanfare, he went back to the place of his birth to “chill out” and work on his “new vision”.

A second LP was issued in 1980, titled “Emiliano Salvador 2″ which featured “Changuito” Quintana, as well as other notables. His newly formed group was by now the favorite at the legendary concerts titled Los Festivales de Jazz Latino Plaza, in La Habana. Two more albums were released, “Emiliano y Su Grupo” (1986) and “Una Mañana de Domingo” (1987), which was later re-released in Europe under the title “Con Fé”.

Throughout the next decade Emiliano and his group traveled about, visiting Central and Eastern Europe, the Iberian Peninsula, Latin America and Canada, as well as Scandinavia and the Mediterranean. By the time that the nineties had rolled around, Emiliano had achieved the recognition that he so richly deserved. As they say in the business, he had finally arrived. He was now at the center of it all, a human catalyst for the prodigious “new sound”. Emiliano Salvador now found himself in the heart of jazzlandia, but his heart was still back in Oriente, in montunoland.

Upon listening to Emiliano’s montunos for the first time it became quite obvious to me that he had deep country roots and that he had clearly absorbed some of the natural beauties of rural life, but aside from that, he was also a restless innovator, never fully satisfied with doing the same thing the same way. He was constantly revising the standard repertoire and improvising on the chord changes, both basic ingredients in the jazz idiom. He could be as moody and as audacious as any North American jazzmen could. One moment he would be as ferocious as a wild beast and the next moment as graceful as a swan, if he so desired. Of course the support that he received from within his musical unit should not be overlooked. All these factors merged and the result was not merely fingers tinkling on a keyboard, but a strong sense of unity, a musical force that has not been duplicated in Cuba since his passing.

The scope of Jazz has widened greatly since Emiliano’s last recording, “Ayer Y Hoy” (1992) and there’s no doubt in my mind that had he lived he would have continued to grow musically, improving tenfold and drawing inspiration from many sources, blending and adding certain elements that were not present before, while never losing sight of the source, la cubanía. The experience gained with the ICAIC experimental group, coupled with the many years of listening to great North American jazz players, such as Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk and McCoy Tyner had taught him this. He walked a fine line between the worlds of Cuban music and Jazz, and the end result was spectacular. Reaching one’s zenith as an artist is a slow process that can be as stormy as making the transition from adolescent to adult. Emiliano’s musical maturity was on the brink of crystallization, and it was stalled by his untimely death. During the last few years of his life, his popularity had begun to ascend to phenomenal heights. But he also had some very troubling and personal problems. By the time that he recorded his last album, constant bouts with alcoholism had been chipping away at his lifeline. How ironic that he would select Arsenio’s beautiful melody “La Vida Es Un Sueño” with its prophetic lyrics “la realidad es nacer y morir… porque llenarnos de tanta ansiedad… todo no es más que un eterno sufrir… la vida es sueño, y todo se va”. On October 22, 1992, Emiliano had lunch, and shortly afterwards decided to take a nap. During that sleep, he suffered a heart attack and died.

Emiliano Salvador was a true Cuban original, an innovator and a visionary who shared the stage with some of the world’s greatest players. Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers, Dizzy Gillespie, Branford Marsalis, Jack De Johnette, Freddie Hubbard, Larry Coryell, Bobby McFerrin, Carla Bley, Manhattan Transfer, Jimmy Rowles, Eddie Daniels, Steve Swallow, Jimmy Smith, Bobby Watson & Saxophone Quartet, Sun Ra & His Arkestra, Chico Freeman, Kenny Kirkland, Woody Shaw, Joe Henderson, Ismael Miranda, Milton Nascimento, Nana Vasconcelos, Dave Valentín, Louie Ramírez, Airto Moreira, Chico Buarque, and MPB 4. He will truly be missed, even by those of us who never got to know him personally. I never met him, but he touched me with his music. And that is enough. How about you? Did he touch you with his gift? Was he an inspiration for you too?

Chico Alvarez Peraza
New York City – July, 2001

DISCOGRAPHY

Panama’s Favorite Mambero Remembers The Golden Era of Dance Music In New York City

Feature written by: Chico Alvarez Peraza

ROSELAND: Where Cuban Rhythms once went toe to toe with Ballroom Jazz

I first set foot inside the ROSELAND BALLROOM dance hall in 1978, lured by a long forgotten tribute to Cuban Music legend Miguelito Valdés. No one seems to remember this event, but to me it was an unforgettable night, and I could not get over how huge the place was, especially the dance floor. I knew little of its long history in regards to New York style Latin American music. It was, after all, the traditional gathering place for so many senior citizens whose sole purpose was to relive the good old days (at least it was that way until 1977). Directly adjacent to Roseland was Local 802 of the Musicians Union, and since I was always looking for work back then through the union, I would often see the old timers waiting on line, dressed to kill, ready to enter into their own private dance heaven. Since I came out of the rock and roll era, it seemed totally the opposite of what my own generation would have considered a night out. Nonetheless, I was curious, and it may have been because the place reminded me so much of all those film noir flicks that I had grown up watching on television or in the movies.

Initially, Roseland conjured up images of the Cotton Club and Connie’s Inn up in Harlem – which were popular venues for white audiences – or even of "Rick’s Café Américain" in the film "Casablanca", the upscale nightclub and gambling den that attracted such a mixed clientéle: Vichy French, Italian, and Nazi officials; political exiles desperately seeking to reach America. Such was the power of Hollywood to implant certain images in our subconscious. Once inside Dance City (that was another name they had for it), I realized that the old place had nothing to do with the nightclubs that had been depicted in so many of those Hollywood films. Roseland was, after all, an elegant ballroom right smack in the middle of midtown Manhattan, and not some juke joint (before 1953 and even for some years thereafter, most bars and nightclubs used a jukebox or live bands). I recalled that only a decade before, I too had stood in such lines, outside venues like the Brooklyn Paramount, Academy of Music and the Brooklyn Fox, and even Harlem’s legendary Apollo Theatre – but not to dance in them – those theaters were the domain of the doowop kings (and queens), showcases for the great vocal R&B groups that thrilled my generation with their gospel tinged harmonies. I’m referring to the great rock ‘n’ roll soirées presented by Allan Freed and Murray The K. But even that phenomenon had its precedent.

SWING JAZZ: A Chronology of The American Dance Floor

It is fabled that the first "nightclub" in the United States opened in 1912 in New Orleans (why would we think otherwise?). Aptly called "The Cave", because it was located in the basement of the Roosevelt Hotel. Prior to that, from about 1900 to 1920, working class Americans would gather in honky tonks or juke joints and dance to the riffs of a lone piano player, or, they would dance to the sounds of small territory bands as their music vibrated from jukeboxes. Territory bands were dance bands that crisscrossed specific regions of the United States, playing one-nighters, 6 or 7 nights a week at venues like the VFW Hall, Elks Club, Lions Club and hotel ballrooms. These bands typically had 8 to 12 musicians. During Prohibition the nightclubs went underground as illegal bars, known as speakeasies. The emerging new style of jazz actually dated back to that epoch, when the various black communities, dancing to the contemporary sound of their time, discovered the charleston and the lindy hop. The charleston was a dance named for the city of Charleston, South Carolina and its rhythm was popularized in mainstream dance music by a 1923 tune called "The Charleston", written by the Afro-American composer and pianist James P. Johnson. As far as the lindy is concerned, legend has it that a local dance enthusiast named "Shorty" was watching some of the dancing couples at a local club when a newspaper reporter asked him what kind of dance they were doing. The story goes on to say that there was a newspaper sitting on the bench next to Shorty with an article about Lindbergh’s historic flight to Paris. Since the title of the article read, "Lindy Hops The Atlantic," Shorty simply replied: "Lindy Hop". Although no one has ever corroborated this tale, the name stuck, and that’s how the dance got its name.

But as fate would have it, on March 26, 1926, an event took place in New York City that would ultimately change the history of jazz. The Savoy Ballroom, located between 140th and 141st Streets on Lenox Avenue opened its doors, and that changed everything. The music played at the Savoy on opening night was largely swing jazz, and because of its infectious rhythm, the venue enjoyed immediate success. It boasted a block-long dance floor and a raised double bandstand. It was owned by Moe Gale, a Jewish businessman and managed by an Afro-American by the name of Charles Buchanan.

The operative word at the Savoy may have been "swing", but the first word that comes to my mind is "big". The ambience was further stimulated by the presence of fantastic dancers. All of the great black jazz bands played there at one time or another. Ultimately, it attracted some of the best dancers from the greater New York area, both black and white. When Repeal kicked in during February of 1933, the nightclub scene was once again revived. New York’s Stork Club, El Morocco and the Copacabana were all nightclubs that featured live big bands, dedicated exclusively to playing for a dancing crowd. But the Savoy was by far the most popular of these clubs. To its credit, the ballroom participated in the 1939 World’s Fair, presenting "The Evolution of Negro Dance", and it was immortalized in song by the classic 1934 tune "Stompin’ At The Savoy" (performed by just about everyone and their grandmother). The head bouncer at the ballroom was Herbert White, who formed a lindy hop dance troupe called "Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers". The "Hoppers" were showcased in such Hollywood films as "A Day at the Races", "Hellzapoppin", "Sugar Hill Masquerade" and "Killer Diller". This group formed the creme de la creme of the Savoy. They were the top dancers during the swing era. With Whitey’s entrepreneurial skills, these Harlem youngsters were catapulted into world recognition through both live performance and film. Their swing dance innovations had permanent impact on the social dance styles of the United States, Europe, Australia, and even Latin America and parts of Africa. Early mambo dancers in Mexico City, (pre-Palladium era) have stated that both the lindy and the jitterbug influenced much of their choreography. Certain moves which they added to the basic steps taken from the Cuban son and danzón enhanced those dance forms.

Savoy, the home of sweet romance,
Savoy, it wins you with a glance,
Savoy, gives happy feet a chance to dance.

And, almost as if on cue, a variant of the lindy hop was introduced by bandleader Cab Calloway, who tagged it the jitterbug (this was actually the title of a catchy six beat tune which Cab had recorded in 1934). It was never meant to be the moniker for a dance form, it just happened that way. History certainly does have a way of repeating itself, doesn’t it? When mainstream America (read – white folks) discovered these dances, it got the snowball rolling. Subsequently every ethnic community in the United States embraced the popular black dances, as well as tap and jazz. Clarinetist Benny Goodman led the big parade, and soon the native Chicagoan became the leader of the so-called swing era. Why, there was even something called country swing. Can you imagine?

TRANSCULTURATION & THE RIP-OFF: The New Orleans, Hollywood, Paris and New York Connection

Around the same time as Calloway’s tune was hitting the nightclubs of Harlem, a Jewish dancer by the name of Dean Collins was learning to dance like a black man. Collins grew up in Newark, New Jersey and by the age of 13 he was already dancing at the Savoy. In 1935, he was named "Dancer of the Year" by The New Yorker. He arrived in Hollywood in 1938 and between 1941 and 1960 had danced in, or helped choreograph over 100 movies which provided at least a 30 second clip of some of California’s best white dancers performing lindy hop, jitterbug, lindy and swing. Throughout the 1940′s these terms were used interchangeably by the news media to describe the same style of dancing taking place on the streets, in the night clubs, in contests, and in the movies. In 1938 Donald Grant, president of the Dance Teachers’ Business Association, stated that swing music was "a degenerate form of jazz, whose devotees were the unfortunate victims of economic instability". Shaw ’nuff.

During the Second World War, swing jazz, and particularly the dance known as the jitterbug were banned in occupied France by the Nazis, due to their decadent American influences. This music literally went underground, hidden in basement dance clubs called discothèques where young French men and women danced to hot jazz played by a DJ on a single turntable whenever a jukebox was not available. So-called "latin" music was also banned, but to a lesser extent. For some reason, it did not classify as degenerate art, a term the Nazis had coined to rid Germany of any African based music. It became a catch-all phrase that included music with any link to jews, communists, jazz, and anything else thought to be dangerous to the master race.

Meanwhile, back in the USA, dance instructors were getting hip to the fact that the lively and boisterous jitterbug could no longer be ignored. Its fun-filled romp could be refined to suit a crowded dance floor. The two main dance schools at the time were the New York Society of Teachers and the Arthur Murray Studios, and they did not formally begin documenting or teaching the African-based dances until the early 1940′s. The "established" dance community was more interested in teaching the old European-based dances, such as the quickstep and the waltz, with an occasional fox-trot and peabody thrown in. Later, they incorporated such Latin American and Spanish dances as the tango, pasodoble, samba, merengue, mambo and cha cha chá, many of which were also African-based, only they didn’t see it that way. Arthur Murray and his associates looked at what was being danced in the urban centers and directed his teachers to teach what was "popular" in their respective cities. As a result of this profiling, the Arthur Murray Studios taught different styles of swing in each city, according to the demographics. Lauré Haile, a swing dancer and competitor, documented what she saw being danced by the white communities in America (for a more in depth look at the proliferation of these styles, I recommend the following website: http://www.kclindyhop.org/history_b.htm

"Part 2 – Decline and Remission: 1945 -1983" is an informative essay posted by the Kansas City Lindy Hop Society. The aforementioned Dean Collins, along with Lenny Smith and Lou Southern led the action in the night clubs and competitions throughout southern California. Haile began teaching for Arthur Murray in 1945 and gave the new style the name of "Western Swing". Collins taught Arthur Murray’s teachers in Hollywood and San Francisco in the late 1940′s and early 1950′s.

In 1953 Paris, at the "Whisky À Go Go" nightclub (founded in 1947), a Belgian Polish-Jew by the name of Régine Zylberberg – better known as "Régine, Queen of the Night" – laid down a dance-floor, suspended coloured lights and replaced the juke-box with two turntables which she operated herself so there would be no breaks between the music. This is what set into place the standard elements of the modern discotheque-style nightclub.

Immediately following the Second World War, a nationwide economic boom was created. New York emerged as the leading city of the world, with Wall Street leading America’s ascendancy. Anglo soldiers and sailors returning from Europe and the Pacific continued to dance in and around their military bases, doing the jitterbug to country and western music in small town bars, well into the 50′s. Meanwhile, the legendary Savoy Ballroom finally closed its doors in 1958, and shortly after the building in which it was housed was demolished. During the 60′s New Yorkers suffered race riots, gang wars and a certain amount of population decline. The demographics of an entire neighborhood would suddenly change. The transition away from an industrial base toward a service economy picked up speed. Americans who traveled stayed at modern motel chains like Holiday Inn and TraveLodge, which provided air-conditioning, swimming pools, restaurants, color TV, direct-dial phones and, above all, consistency.

The large shipbuilding and garment industries declined sharply, ports converted to container ships, costing many traditional jobs among longshoremen and many large corporations moved their headquarters to the suburbs, or to distant cities. There was still enormous growth in services; especially finance, education, medicine, tourism, communications and law. New York remained the largest city, and the largest metropolitan area in the United States, and continued as its largest financial, commercial, information, and cultural center. Despite all the hardships, the city’s vibrant music scene was still very much at the heart of it all, and people of all nationalities still went out dancing.

In the early 1960′s, Annabel’s, a members-only discothèque nightclub opened in Berkeley Square, London. In 1962, the Peppermint Lounge became the popular night spot here in New York City for guys like me. This was the spot where go-go dancing originated. Go-Go Dancers were dancers who were employed to entertain crowds during the early 1960′s at such venues as the Peppermint Lounge. Female dancers began to get up on tables and dance the twist. Joey Dee and The Starlighters were undeniably the stars of a movie titled "Hey Let’s twist", which put that club on the map. Simultaneously, and as if by design, the dance scene in most urban centers was also beginning to change, but the folks at Roseland were not buying into it – at least not yet.

AMERICA’S HIT PARADE: Land of a Thousand Dances

By 1960, seventy million children from the post-war baby boom had become teenagers and young adults. The new generation was no longer content with just being mirror images of their parents, they wanted their own image. Across the country changes took place that affected education, values, lifestyles, laws, and entertainment. Many of the revolutionary concepts in music which began in the sixties are continuing to this day. But it was also a time for fads, and new dance fads appeared almost every week. The majority of them were commercialized versions of new steps created by Afro-American dancers who frequented the clubs and discothèques in cities like New York, Philadelphia and Detroit. Dancemanias swept the country (and the world for that matter) during this fertile period. The new dances had names like the Madison, Swim, Mashed Potatoes, Twist, Frug Watusi, Shake, Hitchhike, Pony, Dog and Chicken. The one thing that they all had in common was that they were not a couple dance, and each partner could do their own thing, separately. It seemed that "touch dancing" was on the verge of disappearing. For a brief time during the beginning of the decade a Cuban rhythm known as Pachanga (actually a variant of the son montuno) became popular among the youth. Percussionist Ray Barretto recorded a tune called "El Watusi" in 1962. It was a fluke, but it soared to the top of the charts (hitting the Billboard playlists in April of ’63), catching the ear of many non-hispanics. Other "latin" tinged music forms crossed over and made it into the charts as well, and before long young Hispanic-Americans began to catch the "bug" for latin music as well.

Meanwhile, the "older" generation was still dancing up a storm, enamored with mambo, bolero and tango. In fact, any type of couple dancing that would bring them a bit of intimacy was embraced (so to speak), and for a while it looked as if the generation gap was closing. By 1965 I was totally hooked on Cuban dance music, aka "latin" music. But it would be another ten years before I had my taste of a bona fide ballroom. My generation preferred rough and tumble bars and taverns to nightclubs, and the mainstream "latin" youth was attracted to large large marathon dances at such venues as the Manhattan Center and the Hunts Point Palace. The now legendary Palladium Ballroom would close its doors in 1966, and I was only privileged to have gone there during the last two years of its existence. I remember that I didn’t dance that much in the Palladium (except when I was trying to pick up a girl) because my main focus was on the bandstand and the musicians who played their hot Cuban music. Nightclubs, or rather discothèques as they were already being tagged by then, did not grab my attention until the mid 1970′s.

As the seventies rolled around, street activists and minority groups like the Black Panthers and Young Lords organized rent strikes and garbage offensives, demanding city services for poor areas. "Power to the People" was the phrase most often heard in the streets, and by the middle of the decade the city had gained a reputation as a crime-ridden asphalt jungle, a relic of history. In 1975, the city government avoided bankruptcy only through a federal loan and debt restructuring by the Municipal Assistance Corporation and they were also forced to accept increased financial scrutiny from the state capital. In 1977, the city was struck by twin catastrophes; the Great Blackout and Son of Sam serial killings.

And Roseland? The old ballroom continued to attract a much older, mature crowd, mostly non-hispanic, whose only joy was to step out with the "latin" dances. Many were regulars, who had been going there since the early forties, when their hearts were young and their libidos were lively. And they each had a competitive spirit to them too. From 1930 up until 1984 The Harvest Moon Ball Dance Championships were held every year at Madison Square Garden in New York City. The ball was supposedly for "amateurs" only. It was usually held on a Tuesday or Wednesday in August or September and was sponsored by the Daily News in New York.

But wait, it seems that I am getting ahead of myself. I do believe that we were talking about the early history of dance, correct? So, hold that thought for a moment, while I rewind the tape. Let’s take it back, say about fifty years or so.

1927: Dance Fever Hits New York City

The first unofficial dance contest was held at the Central Park Mall in 1927, but to the surprise of the organizers over 75,000 people showed up to watch the contest, all contests in the future were to be postponed in the name of public safety until Madison Square Garden could be obtained. They tried again in 1934 and this time the contest was officially shut down by City Hall. The first official start date was in 1935 at Madison Square Garden in New York. In 1938, the Harvest Moon Ball included a lindy hop and jitterbug competition for the first time. It was captured on film and presented in the Paramount, Pathe, and Universal movie newsreels between 1938 and 1951.

Starting in August, preliminaries would be run in many different clubs and ballrooms throughout the city. Roseland was the main venue. Preliminaries had a total of three judges, and the finals had five. There were six divisions that you could enter, some years would offer different dance divisions such as conga, lindy hop, rhumba, jitterbug, jitterbug-jive, jive, foxtrot, rock and roll, tango, collegiate shag, servicemen’s division, Viennese waltz and eventually the mambo, cha cha chá and even the hustle. At the end of the contest the judges would pick an "All Around Champion" and award him/her additional prizes.

Famed columnist Ed Sullivan was the emcee for most of the early contests. The popularity of the event grew (there would be other such balls in Chicago and Los Angeles). This event was to become the most famous dance contest in the world and would last for many years. The official song of the contest was "Shine On, Harvest Moon." The music was supplied by first class musicians such as Artie Shaw, Nan Rodrigo, Machito, Benny Goodman and of course the house band, led by Puerto Rican trumpeter Ramón Argüeso, with its vocalist Raúl Azpiazu and the stellar pianist from Panama, Terry Pearce. The event would outlast any other of its type, until 1980. From 1980 on it was sponsored by individuals who were past winners. The last Harvest Moon Ball took place in 1984. I actually had the pleasure of singing with the Argüeso band, albeit under the direction of Pierce, whom I recall to be a very humble and modest person. Years went by and I recently caught up with him at the Allegria Hotel in Long Beach, NY, where at the age of 77, he still cuts loose on white baby grand in the hotel lounge, ignored by some while astounding others.

DÉJÀ VU: Recollections of a Panamanian Music Master

Pianist Terry Pierce, who was a regular at Roseland, fondly recalled his years with Argüeso.

TERRY: I played at Roseland from 1974 until 1988, first with the Argüeso Orchestra and then with my own band. We worked on a daily basis, as well as playing for special events such as The Harvest Moon Ball. Due to our longevity there, we landed a cameo appearance in the movie "Roseland". When Argüeso died in 1996, I took over the direction of the band. It was trimmed down somewhat, to eight pieces, and that’s when the ballroom began billing us as the Terry Pierce Orchestra. We stayed there until 2001. We would play all the popular latin dances of the day, plus our old swing repertoire as well.

By way of introduction, I will simply say that Pearce was born on August 10th, 1933 in the city of Colón, Republic of Panama. His mother, Savina, encouraged him to study music early on, so that by the time Terry was twelve years old, he was already playing with various local conjuntos that specialized in popular Cuban music. During our recent get-together, I inquired as to his early influences in popular dance forms.

CHICO: Terry baby, lay it on me man, I want to know all about those early jams with the homies back in Panama. Were these groups patterned after the sextetos in Cuba?

TERRY: Very much so. Chico, we didn’t even have a bass player, we used a marímbula at first and we also worked with a guitarist. On percussion we usually had a bongó, then we added tumbadoras and trumpets. We played it bien típico, as they say here in New York, mostly at private parties and during the yearly carnavales, which always took place in February. At one point I remember playing alonside "el viejo" Edgehill, who was an extraordinary bassist, just like his son Guillermo is today. Later, I was recruited to play with the number one band in Colón, a seventeen piece mega band which was led by alto saxophonist Armando Boza. I was only seventeen years old at the time. A very young Mauricio Smith was also in that band, as was trumpeter Víctor "Vitín" Paz, who was already a seasoned jazzman. Both names would become legendary in New York latin jazz circles, through their association with Machito and Tito Rodríguez.

CHICO: Do you remember what year that was?

TERRY: That was in 1951. I was still attending Abel Bravo High School at the time, but I would travel with Armando’s band throughout the seven provinces of Panama, particularly in the western part of the country, in the province of Chiriquí­ and in the city of Las Tablas, which is in the province of Los Santos, plus in the various islands that were part of the republic, the most famous being Bocas Del Toro, which was originally a successful fishing community that was later recognized as a major asset to the archipelago of islands, mainly as a tourist spot. We played all over the country, mostly in hotels, for tourists and locals alike. It was a heck of an experience for me.

I remember that in 1955 we traveled to Ecuador to perform at the French-owned Bagatelle Hotel in Quito. We played there for six months, mostly Cuban music but also Panamanian cumbias. Beny Moré was a very popular recording artist at the time, and we used to play a lot of his music. I accompanied him twice, on both occassions during Carnaval. In Colón, Armando’s band backed him up, and another time it was with trumpeter Juan Santamaría in Panama City. I listened a lot to his piano player "Peruchín" Justiz, whose style I loved.

CHICO: I know from reading John Radanovich’s book that Beny went to Panama with Pérez Prado for the first time during carnival time in 1949. He also performed there in 1955 and in 1958 with twelve musicians from his band, although his main pianist "Cabrerita" was not on those two trips. I think he was replaced by either Felipe Llanes or Peruchín. This was 1955, when he hit Max Pérez in Venezuela with an iron rod and cracked his skull.

TERRY: Yes, but I vaguely remember Cabrerita accompanying Beny on one of those trips. Peruchín was already living in Panama at the time. In my opinion he was one of the greatest pianists in the history of Cuban music, and was instrumental in shifting the role of the piano into a more rhythmic role. They say he practically invented the guajeo. Peruchín was also a great arranger, much hipper than Cabrerita, and when he returned to Cuba he wrote some beautiful charts for the famed Orquesta Riverside, as well as being their regular pianist. As an arranger he was equalled only by Bebo Valdés, Chico O’farrill, René Hernández and Obdulio Morales. He would later join Beny’s big band, contributing some arrangements as well. While in Cuba he also found time to record with Chico O’Farrill, Julio Gutierrez and Cachao in some of their legendary descarga sessions, while doing a few gigs with his own quintet. He can also be heard on a few albums by Eusebio Antobal, recorded around the same time. He passed away on December 24, 1977. All of the musicians in Armandos’ band were keenly aware of everything coming out of Cuba. In fact, our specialty was always Cuban music.

CHICO: Did you also play traditional Panamanian music as well?

TERRY: Yes, especially in Los Santos, which is famous for its carnivals, the Festival Nacional de la Pollera (National Festival of the Pollera), and the Festival of the Patron Santa Librada, plus the Festival Nacional de la Mejorana in Guararé. Herrera is also important in Panamanian folklore because they are believed to be the birth place of the Pollera, the traditional Panamanian dress.

CHICO: Yes, I myself have been quite impressed by this type of dress, especially the Pollera de gala Santeña, with its beautiful design. I believe it is the most used in Panama. Your country has some really beautiful traditions, not unlike the Spanish-speaking Caribbean. I suppose the proximity to that region gives Panama an edge over most Central and South American countries. Also, its bond to the United States is undeniable, particularly within the field of music. The US-Panama cultural interchange is quite obvious, and your country does have a long history in jazz. By the 1940′s the port of Colón boasted at least ten local jazz orchestras. Legends of jazz in Panama have included pianist and composer Víctor Boa, bassist Clarence Martin, singer Barbara Wilson, Drummer Billy Cobham, flautist Mauricio Smith, saxophonist Carlos Garnett and french horn player John "Rubberlegs" McKindo. It is a musical legacy that has recently been reinvigorated by pianist Danilo Perez, who organized the first Panamanian Jazz Festival in January 2003.

TERRY: You are quite right, jazz has always been heard in Panama, and we owe that to the countless black laborers who helped build the canal zone. They came from the states and from the British West Indies by the tens of thousands, in the effort to improve the isthmus transportation system, but many came to work on the banana plantations as well. By 1910, the Panama Canal Company had employed more than 50,000 workers, three-quarters of whom were black Caribbeans. We formed the nucleus of a community separated from the larger society by race, language, religion, and culture. Many of us who migrated to the US would ultimately find ourselves in a sort of duality, what with surnames names like Smith and Terry (laughter).

CHICO: Which brings us to how Terry Pierce got to play "latin" dance music in the land of skyscrapers. Just how did you first make it to the states?

TERRY: In 1960 I left Armando’s big band and started to work the cruise ship circuit, which was very lucrative at the time. American tourists on board these liners danced to their heart’s content, and we supplied them with the beat. By we, I mean the Evangelina Quartet, that’s what we were known as. We did various tours throughout the West Indies, until 1962, when I finally got my visa and told them I was flying north. Actually, I took a steamboat out of Miami and then I hopped a train up north.

CHICO: How did it feel when you set foot on American soil?

TERRY: It felt great! I arrived at Penn Station in New York on January 20th, 1962. I will never forget that date.

CHICO: With whom did you debut here in New York?

TERRY: The first guy to give me a break was trumpeter Bobby Woodland. He helped me to get my musician’s card, so that I could work the union halls and hotel circuit. I worked every Friday with him at the summer resorts in upstate NY. The Raleigh, the Pines and the Emerson immediately come to mind, but there were others. Because everybody had to have a "latin" name, he was billed as Bobby Madera. His music was strictly for dancing, and since I was no stranger to Afro-Cuban rhythms I fell right in with the crowd.

CHICO: Terry, are you saying that you sort of "got comfortable" with that groove?

TERRY: No, not really, because I wanted to play everything. I got my opportunity to play some swing jazz in ’62 when trumpeter Doc Cheatham hired me to play at Jack Silverman’s International Cabaret, downstairs on Broadway and 52nd St., in downtown Manhattan. I worked on and off with Cheatham and Woodland from ’62 until ’69. Birdland was another place where I found steady work, with drummer Willie Bobo. I would play with Cheatham at Silverman’s from Tuesday until Sunday, and then with Willie on Monday nights. I was gigging seven nights a week back then. Cheatham was always taking me with him over to the Palladium, where he was a regular. All the guys in Machito’s band respected and admired him.

CHICO: Is there anyone else that we should know about?

TERRY: Well, I have to say that it was a real pleasure to have substituted on more than one occasion for the great René Hernández at the Palladium and the St. George Hotel, with the Machito Orchestra, when the maestro was sick. In ’69 I made a special trip down to Miami, to perform at the Eden Roc Hotel with singer Chubby Checker, who was flying high with his "Limbo Rock". Mauricio Smith was the musical director and he got me that gig. With Chubby we also did the President Hotel in Atlantic City and also RDA, a private club in Philadelphia. This was during a time when new dances were being made up every week, and Chubby was on top of his game. All in all, the sixties were really good to me.

CHICO: Dance music certainly has kept you busy my man. But it wasn’t always just about dance floor, right?

TERRY: No, of course not. I had my fling with serious music too. After the gigs with Chubby, Mauricio and I got together again and played for a couple of years at the Ali Baba East in Manhattan and the Carlton Terrace in Queens. We played mostly jazz, with a hint of "latin" now and then. I played the hammond organ back then, and singer Nell Carter used to come by the Ali Baba after her Broadway gig and "jam" with us. Man, she loved that band. We made that groove work for us until around 1974. But the dance circuit was where the steady work was. I returned to the Catskills briefly with Billy Ford and the Thunderbirds and then worked with Mauricio at The Rainbow Room. The great Mexican bassist Víctor Venegas was on that gig.

CHICO: How about the charanga bands, did you play with any of them?

TERRY: Well, Frank Mercado was a well known singer at that time and he hooked me up with José Fajardo’s charanga band on a few gigs. Another charanguero was Lou Perez, with whom I worked on occasion at the Hotel Neville. The charanga style was very big at the time. There was plenty of work around then and people were always willing to go out dancing. But the hardest working bandleader by far had to be Argüeso. While Ramón was alive, I was always assured of steady work at Roseland.

VAYA MEANS GO!: The Latins Take Manhattan

In 1952, Roseland was still a great place to go for classic American dance music, as was the old Arcadia Dance Hall, but for the hip young crowd there was nothing that could compete with the Palladium Ballroom, where dancing on 2 and in clave was paramount. It was the place, where the wild and hot Cuban rhythms ruled the dance floor. It was at this location that Pérez Prado’s crazy "Mambo No. 5" became the rage, earning el mambo the title of king of all dances. The once re-named Alma Dance Studio was now the official home of the mambo. Sure, there were other clubs throughout the city, such as the Caborojeño, Broadway Casino, El Cubanacan, Park Palace, Park Plaza, Gloria Palace and Havana-Madrid in Manhattan, and the Tropicana, Tropicola, Hunts Point Palace, La Campana, and Tropicoro in the Bronx, but nothing compared to the popularity of the Palladium. A mere stone’s throw from Roseland and Birdland, it was at the center of the urban mecca. At the height of its popularity, the club attracted an array of Hollywood and Broadway stars and personalities. Every Wednesday night there would be free dance lessons by instructors such as Killer Joe Piro and Carmen Marie Padilla. The Palladium would offer mass dance lessons for the huge crowds, proclaiming itself the "temple of mambo" and Hollywood inevitably capitalized on the craze. Piro can be seen dancing the mambo to the music of Tito Rodríguez in the 1950 Universal short subject, "Mambo Madness." Much has been said and written about this music and about this epoch, and particularly about the venue (some of it erroneously), so I am not going to go into a whole lot of detail about it. Suffice to say that the late sixties and early seventies were a time of radical change, and that dance music would soon become a casualty of war. The proverbial shit would hit the fan on May 1st, 1966, when the Palladium would shut its doors forever.

Soon, there would be new kid on the block, a contender, a new dance and style that in ’66 was still in its infancy. It was mambo’s own first cousin – "salsa" – soon to be crowned the queen of all rhythms. I asked Terry about this crazy period in time, not only in relation to his own career, but his impression in general of the post-mambo dance scene in New York.

CHICO: Terry, what do you remember about the seventies, outside of the Roseland environment?

TERRY: Well, I know that there were still a few dance clubs competing around back then, such as the Ipanema, Corso and Casablanca, but the whole atmosphere had already started to change by 1975. Each club had its own crowd. Discothèques replaced the old ballrooms and disco dancing became the new dance craze. Studio 54, which opened in ’77, was a very popular discothèque. It was originally a Broadway theater, then a radio station and finally a television station. It was right behind Roseland, and eventually it took a lot of business away from us. The revolting idea that live musicians were not longer needed was totally unheard of until the disco era. During the 80′s deejays were cheap, and pre-recorded music was easy enough to put through a sound system, thus making it sound like a real band was in the room. This really hurt musicians, not just latin musicians, but musicians in general. When I started with Argüeso at Roseland, we worked six nights a week. Then it was five, then four, then three and by the time it was all over, we had been reduced to just playing on Sundays. Maybe it was the clientele, I just don’t know.

CHICO: You may be right about that Terry. In the beginning, Roseland had a "whites only" policy and it was billed as the "home of refined dancing". Even during its peak years it was somewhat segregated, unlike the Palladium, which had a healthy mix of cultures and races. The thing that really made Roseland famous was the big bands that played there, such as Sam Lanin and his Ipana Troubadours, Vincent López, Harry James, Louis Armstrong, Tommy Dorsey and Glenn Miller, and its star-studded ceiling and innovative dance contests. But segregation and racism cannot flourish where there is love. Music was the element that brought people together, and eventually black dances such as the jitterbug were heard at Roseland. The appearance by the Count Basie Orchestra was a breakthrough in the all-white atmosphere of the club. It just had to change.

The original owner was Louis Brecker, and when he sold the building in 1981, the new owners began to scheduled "disco nights", giving the boot to the "latin" crowd and ushering in a period when Roseland was considered a dangerous place to be and a neighborhood menace. Sundays were maintained for the older mature crowd and subsequently it became a place where senior citizens could go and re-live their heydey. Young "latinos" stopped going altogether. Disco music had killed the "latin" scene, perhaps unwillingly. The Sunday crowd was aristocratic, somewhat arrogant. By the time I started playing with your band there, it had turned into a nursing home. I felt like I was in a time warp. My only consolation was that I was playing alongside such stellar players as yourself, Frankie Colón, Gene Jefferson, Edy González and Richard Vitale.

TERRY: Those were good times for me, despite the deminished crowd. I know that they will never, ever come back.

CHICO: In 1974 Brecker was quoted in the New York Times as saying: "Cheek-to-cheek dancing, that’s what this place is all about." But that too would soon change, when a fellow by the name of Phil Peters became the first latin music promoter to rent the ballroom for his own personal events, catering to the younger crowd. Among his promotions was the Women’s Liberation Dance, which was quite succesfull. Peters had an "exclusive" contract with Brecker, that stated he would be the "only" latin promoter to throw dances there, and that eventually led to that great bash I spoke of before, the one dedicated to Miguelito Valdés. That was the one time that I actually saw a rainbow of people at Roseland, black, brown and beige, all hanging with the anglos. The Africans and the Asians would join in later, much later.

TRY THE IMPOSSIBLE: New Age Fusion and Confusion

Despite the turmoil that was taking place,1977 was a great year for dance music, and for music of all types. My generation bore witness to the the birth and rise of funk, disco, art rock, hard rock, progressive rock, glam rock, punk rock, jazz rock fusion, latin rock, chamber jazz, reggae, heavy metal and hip hop. Nueva cancion, cumbia and merengue were taking hold in Mexico, Spain and Latin America. But in New York City, salsa was still supreme. Merengue was running a close second place.

’77 was also the year that a film by the same name was released. "Roseland" was directed by James Ivory and produced by Ismael Merchant. The film never really spoke to me, as it dealt with the waltz, the hustle and the peabody. It was an amalgam of three short stories where the protagonists were all trying to find the right dance partner, and I personally did not relate to any of it. Perhaps, if they had also shown me a bit of the Cuban mambo, then maybe I, along with ten thousand other young hispanics, would have been attracted. The episodic storyline is unified by an unending flow of vintage hit songs. The most effective vignette involves cleaning lady Skala, whose minimum-wage job supports her weekly ballroom fests. A similar technique had been used four years earlier by director Leon Gast in "Our Latin Thing", a low budget musical documentary that dealt with the urban (and some would argue ghetto) lifestyle of New York’s "latinos" during the 70′s. The main dance scenes were filmed at Roseland’s nemesis, the Cheetah, on August 26, 1971 and throughout New York City’s hispanic neighborhoods. In July of 1972, the first few images flickered on the screen at the movie’s premiere in New York’s Line 2 cinema. Gast, who had been born in Jersey City, and was not a stranger to urban street life, brilliantly articulated the movie’s mood and sucked in its young audience. From a Spanish Harlem rooftop, an hispanic looking boy looked down on the street below as an Afro-Cuban rumba rhythm played in the background. Down at the street level, the young boy kicked an empty can around, while an electric piano began to introduce a son montuno riff, bringing the scene to life. That montuno was Ray Barretto’s "Cocinando", as Cuban a tune as you can get, yet it was being tagged as something new. He had actually recorded this catchy number many years earlier, as part of a Cuban descarga album. Under the careful direction of Gast, the camera crew then followed the young boy across empty lots, through wire meshes and into unlit basements, over rubbish-filled stoops and into a burnt-out block where the neighborhood kids were jamming on their tumbadoras. It was a fantastic percussive groove that would eventually wipe out any and all memory of ballroom dancing.

It is interesting to note that long after the decline of "salsa", during the last two decades of the twentieth century, dancers over 60 years of age were still moving their feet to the rhythms of mambo, cha cha chá, lindy hop, jitterbug, swing jazz and Carolina shagg.

And Roseland? It still stands there, for what purpose no one knows.

EPILOGUE

By 1980 the hard core mambo/salsa dancers had lost many of their best venues, which gave rise to smaller clubs with less space, making it prohibitive for their owners to hire more than one band. It was the beginning of the end. The other factor was the ever changing face of "latin" music itself. The marielitos had brought with them a new fresh sound from the island, a sound that as just begging to let be heard. Undoubtedly, the seeds of "timba" were in that exodus. In 1984 a teenager was shot to death on the dance floor in Roseland. In 1990, after a tourist by the name of Brian Watkins was killed on the subway platform, four of the eight suspects were found partying at the club. As a result, "disco nights" were discontinued and there were concerns over it being torn down for redevelopment. In 1996, a new owner, Laurence Ginsburg, filed plans to tear down the venue and replace it with a 42-story, 459-unit apartment building. A spokesman for Ginsburg said the filing was to "beat a deadline for new, more stringent earthquake codes, which went into effect earlier" in 1996. It wasn’t of course, and the interior space has been subsequently renovated, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t eventually come down. All in the name of progress, I guess. During its fifty some odd years at the 52nd St. location, Roseland has hosted everything from a Hillary Clinton birthday party to musical performances from rock artists like Madonna, Paul McCartney and the Rolling Stones, but the most memorable evening for Latin New Yorkers is the night that Miguelito Valdés, the man from the barrio of Belén, was honored by his peers and by his adoring fans. I was there, and it is one night I will always remember fondly. Who would have known that on that night, "latin" music as we knew it, was about to die.

CODA

Finally, I asked Terry to give me his opinion on "salsa" and this is what he replied: Chico, what can I say? I simply love it and I enjoy playing it, more than anything else, except maybe latin jazz! But to be perfectly honest, it is the same stuff I’ve been playing since my youth back in Panama. I mean, there have been certain innovations throughout the years, but basically, it is the same swinging son montuno and mambo that I have always played. The arrangements and the messages may have changed somewhat, reflecting the different times, but the foundation and the structure have remained unchanged since the 50′s.

CHICO: And what about rap and reggaetón?

TERRY: You know Chico, I don’t like to put anyone down, but I personally cannot get into it. To me, it’s a degeneration of what we once knew as music. I suppose every generation feels the need to go its own way, you know, do their own thing as it were, but this stuff is just totally off-color. It doesn’t even qualify as music. Sorry to be so blunt, but I can’t hear anything musical in it. Why, these so-called artists don’t even use real musicians for the recordings! Invariably, the end result is concocted electronically in the studio, without any kind of chart, usually by one or perhaps two persons, neither of whom has even studied the bare rudiments of music. I mean, how are they gonna reproduce these sounds in a live setting? The answer is that they can’t.

Sadly, it sounds like they are scrapping the bottom of the barrel. Maybe it’s time to throw away the blueprint, and start from scratch again. You know, create music, and not just sounds.

Mongorama is no ordinary band. Its self-mandate of paying tribute to the charanga/jazz musical period extensively explored by Mongo Santamaría and his bandmates, saxophonist Chombo Silva and flautist Rolando Lozano, involves revitalizing Mongo’s music and the charanga tradition he helped to develop in his moment. Rizo, as producer and bandleader and musical director Danilo Lozano incorporate new arrangements and orchestrations, modern variations of the themes without losing the essence of the rhythm and the infectious danceability of the music. The hip, jazzy feel exudes throughout the vocal and instrumental deliveries on this recording. Engaging and enjoyable at the same time, Mongorama equally pleases the listeners (jazz and Latin music fans) and the dancers. Great job accomplished by pianist Oscar Hernández with his arrangements, and Francisco Torres as well.

This is an album recorded live-in-studio over a two-days fantastic musical journey. That means the music on this CD has that fresh, spontaneous and improvisational elements inherent to Jazz and Afro-Cuban descargas. This approach works perfectly well for these seasoned, highly-trained cats who proudly follow on the steps of Maestro Mongo Santamaría.

A nine-piece members ensemble, Mongorama brings to the stage great musicianship and sophisticated interpretations. It introduces a magnificent sound to a new generation of listeners who will surely be interested in finding out more about the music of Mongo Santamaría and his “La Sabrosa” charanga ensemble during the sixties and seventies.

Mongorama recreates previously recorded material by Santamaría: Bacoso (one of Mongo’s signature tunes featuring Hubert Laws on a superb solo flute, Dayren Santamaría on violin and Joey De Leon on congas); Las Guajiras (an overcharged electric guajira reminiscent of the hypnotic Cachao’s descargas, featuring Poncho Sanchez on congas, Danilo Lozano on flute and Adonis Puentes on vocals); Bluchanga (a popular Latin jazz composition by Mongo’s pianist Joao Donato, featuring Justo Almario on tenor sax, Oscar Hernández on piano and Joey De Leon on congas); Palo Mayombe (a composition by Mongo’s singer, the late Rudy Calzado, featuring Justo Almario on tenor sax and Adonis Puentes on vocals); Siempre en Tí (an arousing bolero by master flautist Rolando Lozano, featuring Hubert Laws on flute, Justo Almario on tenor sax and Adonis Puentes on vocals); Que Maravilloso (another composition by Rudy Calzado, featuring Oscar Hernández on piano, Ramón Banda on timbales and Adonis Puentes on vocals); Cruzan (a beautiful, serene composition by former Santamaría’s pianist Armen Donelian, features Oscar Hernández on piano and Justo Almario on tenor sax) and Guajira at the Blackhawk (one of Mongo’s earliest pieces dedicated to the legendary San Francisco club, features Danilo Lozano on flute, Poncho Sanchez on congas, Justo Almario on tenor sax and Adonis Puentes on vocals). José Rizo contributes two of his own compositions: Así es la Vida (where Adonis Puentes shines on vocals, Poncho Sanchez is featured on congas and Danilo Lozano on flute) and Bubba Boogaloo, a joyful theme that gets a special treatment on the soulful voice of the gracious Destani Wolf. Both tracks are masterfully arranged and co-composed by Francisco Torres. No Molestes Mas, found its way in through an early Ray Barreto’s recording. This swinging tune is a true delicacy for the dancers, making your feet move at the first notes. The album closes with Tin Marín, a traditional tune inspired by the Cachao Cuban Jam Sessions in Miniature legendary recordings (featuring René Camacho on bass, Freddie Crespo on vocals, Ramón Banda on timbales and Danilo Lozano on flute).

Kudos to Rizo for an impecable, very professional presentation. Avid readers and serious listeners are always looking for liner notes that are at the same time informative and educational. That’s exactly the case with this album.

Track listing: 1. Bacoso; 2. Asi Es La Vida; 3. Las Guajiras; 4. Bluchanga; 5. No Molestes Mas; 6. Bubba Boogaloo; 7. Palo Mayombe; 8. Siempre En Ti; 9. Que Maravilloso; 10. Cruzan; 11. Guajira At the Blackhawk; 12. Tin Marin.

Personnel: Alfredo Ortiz (vocals, guiro); Adonis Puentes, Freddie Crespo, Destani Wolf (vocals); Dayren Santamaria (violin); Danilo Lozano, Hubert Laws (flute); Justo Almario (tenor saxophone); Alberto Salas, Oscar Hernandez (piano); Joey de Leon, Poncho Sanchez (congas); Ramon Banda (timbales).

Mongorama on the web: http://jazzonthelatinsideallstars.com/index1.html

Feature/Review written by: Danilo Navas

Feature written by: Chico Alvarez Peraza

Luis Damian Güell was born on September 28th, 1953 in the provincial city of Cienfuegos, in Cuba, where he attended the Marist Primary School between 1958 and 1960. The Marist Brothers are a Catholic religious order of brothers and affiliated lay people. The order was founded in France, at La Valla-en-Gier near Lyon in 1817 by Saint Marcellin Champagnat, a young French priest of the Society of Mary (Marist Fathers).

After leaving Cuba with his family, young Luis continued his studies at the Marist Primary School in Madrid, Castile, Spain between 1965 and 1968. Eventually his family settled in Hudson County, in northern New Jersey, where he attended Memorial High school in the town of West New York from 1968 to 1972. He was a mere stone’s throw away from the capital of the music business, New York, and his eye was on the apple.

Recently, Luis brought me up to date on his formative years in the recording industry.

"After graduating high school, I enrolled in the Manhattan School of Music in nearby New York City, where I studied composition, electronic music and recording arts and science with the renowned Fred Plaut, then Senior Engineer for the Masterworks Dept. at The Columbia Records 30th Street Studio in New York. This was the same studio where seminal figures such as Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Billie Holiday, Tony Bennett, Miles Davis, Mongo Santamaría, Muhammad Ali, and Charles Mingus had recorded their best work".

For anyone who is not familiar with the analog recording industry in its heyday, the 30th Street Studio was located at 207 East 30th Street, between 2nd and 3rd Avenues in Manhattan. It was originally an Armenian Greek Orthodox church. Abandoned after the war, the church was transformed in 1949 into one of the world’s greatest recording studios, where some of the most dynamic and enduring music was created. Bob Dylan’s "Highway 61 Revisited"; Leonard Bernstein’s "West Side Story,"; Miles Davis’s "Kind Of Blue" and Glenn Gould’s interpretations of Bach’s "Goldberg Variations," were all recorded there.

Under Plaut’s supervision, Luis Güell interned as his assistant at the 30th Street Studio from 1972 to 1974. The studio provided a distinctive ambience, featuring a kaleidoscope of sublime sonic qualities unparalleled in the recording industry. Young Luis soon found himself in the company of masters. His first session as an intern was with Leonard Bernstein playing the piano and conducting the Columbia Symphony Orchestra. It turns out that the aforementioned recording was the classic Gershwin tune "Rhapsody in Blue". Luis was only 19 years old at the time.

He fondly recalls: "I nearly died when I had to ask Bernstein to please play the piano so I could mic it. At that time 30th Street Studios only recorded classical and jazz with some Broadway shows cast albums sprinkled in between. I do not remember any pop, folk or country being recorded there, those sessions were usually recorded at the 52nd Street Studios. Needless to say, I was in heaven".

From ‘74 to ’77 Luis worked closely with C/O Banner Talent in New York, serving as liaison to Latin American booking agencies and clients, creating both musical and vocal arrangements, supervising road and sound crews, and serving as bassist and musical director for the touring group which backed The Shangri-Las (Leader Of The Pack, Walking in The Sand, Give Him A Great Big Kiss, etc.).

In March of 1978 he designed and became the co-owner of A Step Above Studios, which was located at 281 5th Avenue in Manhattan. He worked there until ’85 as studio manager, engineer and producer, supervising staff, handling bookings, promotion, production and recording of music and commercial spots (jingles) for radio and television. He served as the account executive for all the Spanish and French speaking Latin American and European clients.

"It was a time of great creativity and fusion for the Afro-Cuban sound. As I remember it, that’s when I recorded Orlando ‘Puntilla’ Rios’ album ‘From La Habana to New York’, as well as an unreleased album titled ‘Cuban Commandos’ that featured among others, Puntilla, Olufemí, and the newly arrived Paquito D’Rivera. Many disco era and very early rap projects were recorded there as well. But as fate would have it, I felt the need to move on, so in early 1985 I began an association with Sight & Sound Management Ltd., located at 156 W. 57th Street. They later moved to 200 5th Avenue. It was run by Bob Schwaid, who managed such artists as Miriam Makeba, Van Morrison (he produced ‘Astral Weeks’ for him), Al Green, Evelyn ‘Champane’ King, the SOS Band and many others. Bob would later become a partner and president at World Beat Records. He died in 2002 and is greatly missed by all of us who worked with him. My association with Bob really opened me up to new ideas, as well as giving me a unique insight into the business side of the recording industry."

For the next two years Luis labored arduously at Sight & Sound as staff producer and personal manager for various artists in music, television and cinema. By 1986 he had already produced Mick Wilson for RCA Records (London) and several singles for Man Eating Plants. During this period he continued to work with Latin American and European clients as well, freelancing from ’72 to ’86 as a bassist, mostly in Manhattan, with the Dan Early Trio, John Adamo, and groups such as Turn Down Broadway, Adobo and Palma.

In 1987 he joined the staff at Ultrasonic Recording in West New York, New Jersey as chief engineer and studio manager. "The Penthouse", as it was known, soon became the recording mecca for many recording artists from the Hudson County area. Luis would stay there until 1996, doing music and sound recording, basic maintenance and trouble shooting of equipment, while also supervising staff and freelance engineers. While at Ultrasonic, he received both Gold and Platinum Record awards from WEA Caribe for his engineering work on the Frankie Negrón debut CD “Con Amor Se Gana”. He worked out of this studio for a good part of the decade.

By 1992 Luis was supervising all areas of production and engineering of “The Meme Solís Show" for NPR’s Radio Martí, preparing material for broadcast into Cuba. He then opened up his own studio, Digital Boulevard Audio in West New York, New Jersey, where he took on the task of handling all phases of production, from recording to manufacturing, including: liner notes, artwork, graphics, printing, coordinating promotion, advertising and distribution departments for World Beat Records, a Jazz and World Music record company that unfortunately went out of business in 2001.

He remembers it as a time of growth: "Digital Boulevard Audio was actually created in ’92 as an editing and mastering facility for Ultrasonic . At that time it was located at "The Harbor Towers", also on Boulevard East before moving to its current location in Fairview, N.J. in ’99. We started producing Meme’s show in the early 90′s at The Penthouse and then moved it to Digital Boulevard’s studio after Ultrasonic closed. The industry was growing and changing, and I was growing and changing right along with it. And there certainly was a lot of teamwork involved back then. I was part of the team that designed and built Ultrasonic’s Penthouse Studio and I’m really proud of that".

Luis Güell’s devotion to his craft and to Digital Boulevard has given him the opportunity to work with many formidable artists, such as Carlos Santana, Rashied Ali, Claudio Roditi, Sonny Fortune, Jocelyn, Juan Angel Gonzalez, Sergio Brandau, José Luis Quintana "Changüito", David Oquendo, Carlos Enríquez, Ogduardo "Roman" Díaz, Pedrito Martínez, Ivan Bodley, Genya Ravan, Sergio George, Papo Luca, Farnkie Negrón and Pedro Capó.

Some of his big-time clients have been Sony-BMG and Arista Records, as well as many other well known labels. Looking at his most recent work, it pleases me to say that he has been recognized for the following: The 3rd Latin Grammy Awards – Nominated Work “Best Traditional Tropical Album” for the Nelson Gonzalez release “Pa’ los Treseros” (recorded and mixed); the 4th Latin Grammy Awards – Nominated Work “Best Folk Album” for “Raíces Habaneras” self titled (recorded, mixed and mastered); the 47th Grammy Awards – Winner of “Best Latin Jazz Album” for “Bebop Timba” by Raphael Cruz (produced, recorded, mixed and mastered); the 52nd Grammy Awards – Nomination “Best Latin Jazz Album” for “Things I Wanted To Do” by Chembo Corniel (mastered).

Currently he is putting the finishing touches on an album for noted Cuban songwriter Cheín Garcia, who in the past has written music for Enrique Iglesias, Carlos Santana, Lara Fabian and Frankie Ruiz. There is also a live album for Puerto Rican pop singer Brendaly that is nearing completion. Both Chein’s and Brendaly’s Albums are due to be released shortly.
Luis’ expertise includes the art of mastering, which is what he is best noted for these days.

Basically, mastering is the shaping, sculpting, equalizing, compressing and fine tuning of sound through both analog and digital audio processing. In Luis’ capable hands each individual track in a production is given depth, punch, clarity and volume. It is more than just a science, it involves a certain craft, and of course a keen ear for the music. Most technicians involved in audio engineering and mastering are musicians, or at least musically inclined. It is an art that is widely misunderstood and sometimes even mistaken for mixing. It’s the last step which comes just before the manufacturing of a recording. It’s a crucial step for many. For Luis, it’s the pièce de résistance. He is currently mastering "Casino Rueda" for latin singer Luisito Rosario, as well as Willy Torres’ NYC Salsa Project. It is the second album that he has mastered for this upcoming artist.

Recently, I asked Luis Güell if there were any other new and interesting projects in the works.

"I’m currently working on editing, mixing and mastering of a formidable live concert by ‘Grupo Folklorico y Experimental de Nueva York’. It was produced by René López, who was also responsible for the quintessential groundbreaking New York Afro-Latino folkloric project, known by the same name, back in the early seventies. The music for this new version will be part of the soundtrack for an upcoming documentary. Also, I have recently recorded ‘Don Pancho Terry’ for Chembo Corniel’s next album. As far as Digital Boulevard is concerned, we have just concluded major acoustic and equipment upgrades this past April, including Lipinski L707 monitors and a Rupert Neve designed ‘Masterpiece Analog Mastering Unit’ with ‘Lavry’ converters. I’m really excited about this, as I now have at my disposal the type of state of the art technology that is needed in order to continue helping out independent artists like Raphael Cruz, Miguel García and Ochún and David Oquendo".

With all these achievements under his belt, we at Latinjazznet.com would like to wish Mr. Luis Damian Güell the best of luck in all of his future endeavors and we sincerely hope that you, our readers, have enjoyed our reportage on "the man behind the sound".

Feature written by: Chico Alvarez Peraza

Grammy winner Raphael Cruz is probably the best kept secret in Latin jazz. His latest recording, “Time Travel” is a must for any lover of fascinatin’ rhythms. But exactly where does his inspiration come from?

Latinjazznet.com is proud to present this insight into the man who literally stole the show and walked away with the 2005 Grammy for Best Latin Jazz Recording. I’m referring of course to "Bebop Timba", the highly creative CD that was (unfortunately) never heard or talked about again.

The question still remains: Why? Before I delve into this curious enigma, allow me to fast forward a minute to the present.

LOST IN SPACE

Long before the release of “Time Traveler”, his third recording as a leader, the buzz was already out about the project and about Raphael Cruz’ new group as well. “I’m really excited about it” he says.“There is just no way to label it. We are a tight ensemble that is really into the dynamics of the music, we use shadings and we are trying to get away from the strict syncopated emphasis on clave based rhythms. Mind you, the clave is always there, but in more subtle ways than usual. It creates a mood for the rest of the band to follow, but it doesn’t dominate that mood. As a soloist myself, I feel that the musician should be allowed more space to be heard, to stretch out without too much interference from or adherence to the rhythm section”.

Raphael has long been recognized by his fellow musicians as a gifted percussionist and bandleader, possessor of exquisite sensitivity and impeccable timing, a veteran who has shared both the stage and the recording studio with such legendary performers as Mongo Santamaría, Ray Barretto, George Benson, Paquito D’Rivera, Herbie Mann, McCoy Tyner, Bette Midler, Flora Purim and Chaka Khan. He performs on Cuban, Brazilian, African and exotic percussion instruments, as well as the traditional drum kit, and is fluent in all musical styles. And yet, a full and comprehensive awareness of his talents has been limited mostly to an inner circle of jazz and latin musicians, radio personalities, and a few perceptive listeners and critics.

Although Raphael is usually classed as a fusion artist, his real roots appear to lie in the Tata Güines tradition. This is not to say that he sounds like Tata, but rather that he shares many things in common with him. Like the legendary Cuban master, Raphael’s contribution to a particular tune pays careful attention to the inner dynamics of the composition, and like Tata, he approaches the conga drums in much the same manner as a jazz trap drummer does his drum set. Elaborating on his role as a drummer, he adds: “The most important thing for me is to feel comfortable with the tune and not have to fight with my instrument. The music invariably suffers when you fight your instrument. I tend to forget about my instrument as a showcase, often treating it like it’s not there, concentrating more on the music as a whole, rather than with my own part. I started to feel this way about music in general when I first heard Miles Davis’ controversial album ‘Bitches Brew’. It was like a revelation to me, and for the life of me I could not understand why so many critics had come down on him the way they did. I actually saw people walking out on one of his performances at the Village Gate. This guy was so far ahead of his time, I had never heard anything so beautiful, he seemed to be lost in space. Or rather, he was the master of his own space”.

SINGING A SONG AND TELLING A STORY

Raphael Cruz is first and foremost an accompanist who blends in with the overall sound of the group, stepping out only when it is called for. Although his touch is light and elegant, he can still swing with the best of ‘em. His solos are like songs, full of melodic-like phrases, and rarely does he simply go off on a tune, as often happens with lesser astute musicians who fill up space just for the sake of it. On the bandstand, he seems to merge with his instrument. He is in total command and the control which he asserts over the difficult drum patterns is astonishing. He is never flashy, but rather he tells a story, singing a song, if you will.

But Raphael can also cook, like a gourmet chef, with a quiet intensity, at a low flame – one that burns bright. Musically, he feeds off the soloists, often complementing them, never trying to upstage them in any way. His rhythmic sense is acute, and he knows how to keep the time lively by playing around the soloist. He can be like a metronome when he wants to, but he prefers to "play" with the rhythms, at times riffing "around" and "behind" the beat. His solos are often nostalgic voyages culled from the Afro-Cuban and Bop traditions, thoughtfully constructed, with much attention to what is going on around him. To his credit he has surrounded himself with a crew of equally adept musicians, such as Ariel de La Portilla, Enrique Henaine, Manuel Valera and Diego Lopez, who form the nucleus of his working unit. Collectively they conjure up feelings that are both refined and deep, hot and sensual. But then, what else should you expect from jazz musicians?

BREAKING WITH THE PAST, WHILE NEVER FORGETTING IT

Musically, Mr. Cruz is very much the non-conformist. As a first-class musician, he knows that conformism is little more than imitation, and that imitation is at best just part of the learning process. Only when the learning process is complete does the musician really begin to find a modem of expression that is truly his or hers. And that’s when the struggle really begins. A true artist cannot merely substitute himself for those who came before them. He or she must add to that tradition or traditions. Raphael has eloquently proven himself successful in adding his own link to that fascinatin’ chain of Caribbean rhythms. It is quite appropriate then, that he should hail from an island that has been turning out happy rhythms for centuries.

Raphael Cruz was born on May 27th, 1947, in the Dominican Republic, in the town of Villa Vasquez, located in the northeastern province of Monte Cristi, an area rich with rhythms and folklore. His parents were Spaniards who migrated from Cuba, another link in that cultural chain. They settled in Santiago de Los Caballeros. At a very early age, Raphael moved to the capital city of Santo Domingo, where he initiated his grade school education in the “Escuela Chile”. Drawn to music, he enrolled in that school’s marching band, initially playing the snare drum, then the bass drum and finally mastering the xylophone. From there he graduated to the “Colegio Don Bosco”, where he continued his musical studies. He played in that school’s marching band, studying both theory and solfeggio, acquiring the necessary reading skills and technique that were needed in order to become a classical musician. By the time he graduated Don Bosco he had also mastered orchestral percussion. These are percussion instruments used in orchestras which play mainly classical European music and related styles. Generally within such a curriculum, students are required to study all aspects of orchestral playing. Marimba, snare drum and timpani are the three most basic areas of study. Orchestral percussion usually does not include drum set studies. Although Raphael was quite proficient on all of these instruments, his interest in hand drums, and in particular with popular Latin American rhythms was becoming more and more evident. Soon, that inclination began taking him down a different road. “I didn’t exactly know where I was going at this time, but I knew that I wasn’t going to be a classical musician”.

SANTO DOMINGO: INFLUENCES, LEGENDS AND HEROES

The nineteen sixties ushered in the so-called “British Invasion” (Beatles, Rolling Stones, Dave Clark Five, Herman’s Hermits, etc), and Raphael submersed himself deep into the waters of popular American music, eventually forming his first group, which he called “Los X 6”. It turned out to be an invaluable learning experience for him, and he vividly recalled that the band was quite frightening. “We were composed mainly of aficionados, so we formulated a style that was greatly influenced by iconic American and British rock and pop artists like Jimi Hendrix, Cream and The Beach Boys. Even Chubby Checker and Bill Haley’s Comets were in the mix. We played at many social events, and we were even featured regularly on Dominican television, via ‘Teenager’s Matinee’, a show that aired every Sunday. Once the band finally got tight, we’d work on more tunes, until we had just about every rock & roll tune known to mankind down pat. We became the ‘house band’ for this very popular show, which ran consecutively for a number of years. But deep down inside, I knew there was more to it than just playing someone else’s material”.

By 1964 it was evident that in Santo Domingo a certain love affair between young people and rock & roll had developed. One has only to see archival footage of Johnny Ventura during this period to understand this phenomenon. He looked like a black Elvis Presley. The term "hipster" immediately comes to my mind. Although the hipster image originated after the "golden age of jazz", during the pre-bop 1940′s, there seemed to be no real relation to jazz during the sixties. It seems as if it had merely crossed over into the following decade. The tag itself was coined when the word "hip" arose to describe aficionados of the growing jazz scene. In the U.S. a "hipster" was often defined as a "character who likes hot jazz". Initially, hipsters were usually middle-class white youths seeking to emulate the lifestyle of the largely-black jazz musicians they followed. The word "cool" would take preference in decades to come. However, both in the rebellious Caribbean and in that urban monster known as Mexico City, it was a case of life imitating art. Raphael was quite aware of these images, as most young people were at the time, and it reflected not only in his music but in his appearance as well. The type of assimilation that he described to me was typical of most young musicians throughout the Caribbean basin. I myself experienced this while still a youth in Cuba. Rock was the thing.

And yet, it was Raphael’s exposure to the “typical” sound of Dominican music that shaped and later defined his musical expression, along with his awareness of the ever-popular Cuban dance forms, namely mambo, guajira, bembé and cha cha chá. Without these genres, there probably would have never have been anything resembling Latin jazz. They formed the basic foundation for most instrumental latin music of the time.

A fellow percussionist who was then making the same rounds as Raphael was drummer and timbalero Carmelo García. García was only one of many musicians who would leave their mark on the emerging music scene in Santo Domingo, influencing just about everyone who came in contact with him. Raphael recalls their special relationship. “Carmelo was one of the most solicited drummers of that era, having played principally with the bands of Rafael Solano and José Reyes. We soon became friends and Carmelo mentored me, introducing me to the rudiments of the music and teaching me about the rich folklore of the Caribbean".

García was a kind of latin hipster, although a traditionalist in many ways, and he passed on much of his knowledge to Raphael, including such things as Ortiz’ concept of transculturation. Because Dominican music has always been closely intertwined with that of its neighbor, Haiti, it is believed that the merengue (as a musical genre) originated there. For well over fifty years it has remained the official native dance of the Dominican Republic, having evolved from the French contredanse, which was an internationally popular form of music and dance during the late 18th century. Both secular and sacred religious music can be found all along the island, with drums and human voices being their principle interpreters. Salve is a call-and-response type of singing that uses güira, panderos, atabales and other African instruments. It is highly ceremonial and often used in pilgrimages or at parties dedicated to saints. Palo is also played at religious ceremonies and has its roots in the Congo region of central-west Africa. Palo shares much the same pantheon of deities/saints as the religious traditions of Cuba, Haiti, Brazil and parts of South America. The instruments played in a palo are the same as salves, only without the panderos. Salve is related to palo in that it is played in many of the same contexts, but with different instruments and utilizing diverse rhythm patterns. During his formative years, much of this music was alien to Raphael, but as he grew more influenced by popular music, he began to understand and appreciate the significance of the folkloric traditions.

It was also in Santo Domingo that Raphael was first exposed to many of the great Cuban artists, not only those who were still living in Cuba but also those who were now residing in the U.S. At home, his parents never ceased to listen to the great Cuban soneros and guaracheros, such as Arsenio Rodríguez, Trio Matamoros, Vicentico Valdés, Rolando La Serie and Beny Moré. And like most Dominican households, a recording by Duo Los Compadres was a standard fixture. “My parents were crazy about Cuban music, and I was fortunate to have heard such visiting artists as Mongo Santamaría, Los Muñequitos, La Lupe, Olga Guillot and Miguelito Valdés, among others. I was also able to hear Puerto Rican bands who visited regularly, such as Cortijo y su Combo, and later El Gran Combo, which came out of the Cortijo aggregation. It was Carmelo who got me into all that stuff”. Like all who really knew the man, Raphael considers García a genius. He still treasures the recordings Carmelo made with Mongo.

Through the miracle of radio, young Raphael was transplanted to near and far away lands, made fully aware that there were other cultures out there besides his own. Not only did he listen to Cuban radio, which was very influential at that time, but also to the local Dominican public radio stations which featured all forms of Caribbean music, as well as the music of Brasil, the U.S. and Latin America. Remembering those early years, he elaborates. “Like most of us who grew up in that era, I was literally ‘blown away’ and ‘turned on’ to the inspirational melodies of Antonio Jobim, Vinicius de Moraes and Joäo Gilberto. Equally moving for me was the exciting samba schools and the carnival ensembles, as well as the jazz tinged bossa nova of Stan Getz and other North American musicians. By way of the bossa nova, I started getting into traditional jazz, roughly at around the same time, and I even landed a gig with jazz pianist Jorge Taveras’ trio”.

With all these influences spinning around in his young head, it was inevitable that Raphael Cruz would venture into an experimental wall of sound, incorporating everything he heard into his own pop/rock ensemble. Logically, the next stop on his musical voyage would have to be the capital of jazz, Harlem. But as fate would have it, there was a slight detour he would have to make first.

ISLA DEL ENCANTO: LA NUEVA OLA

As he began developing a taste for sophisticated harmonies and intricate rhythms, Raphael decided to move to Puerto Rico, where he would live for ten years and where his musical consciousness would be further influenced by the African based rhythms of that sister island. While still living in the Dominican Republic, Raphael had hooked up with a couple of Puerto Rican musicians who needed a drummer for a local engagement in Santo Domingo. It was the start of something really big for him. “I formed part of a trio that featured musicians Orly Vazquez and Francisco Tirado. They were looking for someone who could play what was then referred to as ‘acid rock’. I returned with them to Puerto Rico, and shortly afterwards we landed a gig in nearby St. Thomas. The name of the place was “The Pirates Spot” and I remember that there were at least 16 rock groups from Puerto Rico playing there. Through our connection in St. Thomas we got an offer to travel to Mexico City, where we played in the famous ‘Red Zone’, a bohemian corner of aristocratic roots, something similar to New York’s Greenwich Village. The trio was called ‘Kaleidescope’. For the Mexico City gig we replaced Orly with Dominican guitarist Héctor Gutierrez, and then we went on to play in Veracruz and in other cities as well. We even recorded an album for the Orfeon label. This is crazy, but I just found out that the album we made in Mexico over forty years ago is being re-issued in Germany.”

After settling in Puerto Rico, Raphael really got into the tumbadoras, or conga drums as they are called in the U.S. His goal at the time was to become the consumate all-around percussionist, thereby assuring himself of a steady flow of work. He recalls: “During that period I was performing with Lucecita Benítez, Julio Angel, Danny Rivera and Alberto Carrión. These artists, for the most part were influenced by American rock music, although they each embraced (to a certain degree) the traditional Puerto Rican jíbaro and (to a lesser extent) the black music of the caseríos, adding to their oveall mix a more ‘tropicalized’ version of the nueva trova, a movement in Cuban music that emerged after the Cuban Revolution (around 1967-68), reflecting the consequent political and social changes there. It is related to the ‘nueva canción’ of Latin America, especially Puerto Rico and Venezuela. Some of the nueva trova musicians were also influenced by the rock and music of that time, so the connection with those groups I mentioned was only logical”.

Also worthy of mention would be the jazz tinged “feeling” movement which came out of Cuba around the same time. Ironically, while all this music was merging beautifully in Puerto Rico, latin New Yorkers were still flocking to dance halls, enamored with popular Cuban dance music, which they referred to as ‘latin music’. Raphael recalls: “Because of the Machito-Bauzá-Gillespie-Pozo collaborations, the jazz connection to latin music in New York was much stronger and the main icons and heroes were instrumentalists. In Puerto Rico it was the opposite. Those artists whom I played with there were all singers, so it was only natural that they embraced those genres. These styles were very big, but they were not what you would call jazz”.

Yet, there was another invasion of sorts taking place right around that time on the island. Although it had arrived rather late, the ‘bebop’ jazz sound that had emerged in New York during the nineteen fifties was making a big impact there, while in the mainland a whole new style of jazz was emerging. As the new decade approached, post-bop cool jazz and its offspring acid jazz were creating quite a stir. Before long names like Coltrane, Parker, Gillespie and Monk had all became household words among the up and coming musicians. Raphael mingled freely with the in-crowd which dug these contemporary sounds, and it began to rub off on him. He began collecting vinyl albums which he purchased at a local record store that catered to the island’s jazz set. It was all coming to him second hand, but at least he was getting his first taste of jazz, albeit in a land where very few jazzmen had been popular. By the time the U.S. embargo put a stop to the flow of dance music coming from Cuba, Puerto Ricans in general were keenly aware of the Afro-Cuban jazz fusion that was being played stateside by Cal, Mongo, Willie, Puente and Shearing, on both sides of the continent. But that style of Latin jazz was slowly fading and a whole new sound was already in the making. Most of these artists, save Shearing, would make the necessary transition in order to survive, both creatively and economically. "Funk" was in the air and it was penetrating the old vanguard.

Record labels such as Blue Note, CTI, Arista and CBS were distributing some great jazz on the island at that time. A new crop of Brazilian artists were making their mark in Puerto Rico too. Airto, Flora, Moacir, etc. And from the Big Apple came Miles, Chick and Herbie, so that wave after wave of new music entered the island. Musicians like Raphael were being drawn toward the epicenter of that sound, New York. Rafael Cortijo’s “La Maquina Del Tiempo” (a financial flop for the Coco label), along with the advent of Cuba’s Irakere, were seen as major developments in the new style of Caribbean jazz.

It was in Puerto Rico that Raphael would form his first band, RAICES, in 1976, with fellow islanders Monchi Sifre, Roberto “Pura” Cazar, Carlos Melendez and Amaury Lopez, all of whom were swimming the same currents as Raphael. One thing lead to another, as they say, and it was inevitable that a major label should take interest in them. Before long, Raíces was off to Miami to record at Criteria Studios, for Nemperor Records (formed in 1966 by Brian Epstein as Nemperor Artists, Inc., it was a subsidiary of Atlantic Records). Raíces’ executive producer was Nat Weiss, the lawyer for the Beatles. The studio A&R man was Bruce Botnick, who was responsible for putting Jim Morrison and the Doors on the map. Wave after wave of jazz-rock-latin fusion albums hit the record stores. Following Irakere’s debut in 1978 at the Newport Jazz Festival, Afro-Cuban rhythms were now front and center, and jazz was drawn closer and closer to clave. Unfortunately for Cortijo, the label never followed up with a second album, and by all accounts Cortijo just lost interest. Meanwhile, Irakere became a favorite of the fusionistic set. Raíces would not be so lucky.

NEW YORK CITY: BRIGHTS WILL GET YOU, AND MESS YOU AROUND

After coming to New York in the late seventies to perform with Raíces, Raphael decided to stay in our area for a while, at which time he worked the metropolitan club-circuit, for about three years. Unfortunately, Raíces did not last very long. They did manage however (and within a relatively short period) to get booked in all the top clubs in New York, Long Island, New Jersey and Connecticut. In 1977 they opened at the Dr. Pepper Jazz Festival in Central Park for the great Miles Davis, and garnered some rave reviews from the New York press. But fusionistic jazz did not take the country by storm, as many would have wanted, not in the way that latin rock had done. Raphael went on to be a studio musician, because commercially speaking, that was where the "real" money was. He worked for all the major labels, such as Warner Bros., Arista, CBS and toured with the likes of Stanley Turrentine, Herbie Mann, Dr. John, Carly Simon, Bette Midler and of course The Crusaders, the one group that kept him busy all year round. He didn’t want to tour exclusively, because studio work was quite lucrative at the time. As many musicians will tell you, when a player leaves town there will always be someone waiting to take their place. In the comfort of the studio, he had made great music alongside the likes of Steve Gadd, Jack de Johnette, Ray Barretto and Ralph MacDonald. He also worked some of the Broadway shows, before returning once again to Puerto Rico, where he formed a quintet along with Ender Dueño, Eddie "Guagua" Rivera, Carlos Melendez and Amunni Nasser. Under Raphael’s leadership, the group broke all previous attendance records at the Tetuan 20 Club in Old San Juan with their review "Tropicalia".

NEW ORLEANS: MUSICIANS WANTED, FUSIONISTS NEED NOT APPLY

A year into his stay on the island Raphael received a call from percussionist Mark Sanders in New Orleans, asking him if he wanted to work with Sanders’ band "Caliente". He immediately accepted and that decision led to his leaving the island permanently. "I found myself in the birthplace of Jazz, New Orleans, where I lived for about four years, performing in the company of such notables as Dr. John and the renowned pianist Ellis Marsalis Jr. I was maturing in an environment that exposed me to the best musical traditions and practices of that historical city. My first gig in the Crescent City was with the Neville Brothers, at the 1984 World’s Fair. All this had put me in a very privileged position, and inevitably those influences began to flow freely from my mind and body, manifesting themselves in the music that is now such an integral part of my life. Yet, there was something still missing from my life, and I truly didn’t know what it was".

Worthy of mention is the fact that vocalist Harry Connick, Jr. was Raphael’s pianist during that period, whenever he lead a Latin jazz group in New Orleans. The group played locally in all the clubs in the city, and would prove to be the prototype for the band which he now fronts. “This was the group that more or less established me in New Orleans”, he says. “I was feeling comfortable down there, and feeling comfortable with music is very important to me. Music for me is a labor of love, and I really felt the love down there. But at this time I was still searching for a particular sound that I kept hearing in my mind and it wasn’t happening there. Three years later, I went back to New York City and began to seek out the musicians who would eventually make that sound a reality”.

During the 1980′s, an era that for latin-flavored jazz was actually quite grim, Raphael nearly dropped out of the scene, but thanks to an incredible resurgence in this type of music, he began appearing regularly in clubs, theaters and concert halls, headlining in such venues as Town Hall, CBGB Gallery, Blue Note, Birdland, Zinc Bar, NJPAC (New Jersey Performing Arts Center in Newark, NJ) and many other venues that catered to jazz in related forms. He managed to travel abroad, often fronting a quintet made up of a who’s who in jazz. Latin jazz records did not sell well during this period (did they ever?) so more and more labels began turning their backs on the artists who performed this style. Raphael hung in there as best he could, and surfaced again at the tail end of the nineties. Never one to give up, he returned to the studio in 1998 with a group of excellent musicians, recording his first date as a leader. The result was the very creative "A Mano", which was released a year later. It was a labor of love for all involved, and the entire CD was recorded in one 14 hour session, with minimal overdubs. Memorable versions of "Stella By Starlight", "Night And Day", "Body And Soul", "Footprints" were recorded, and even Bob Dylan’s "Mr. Tambourine Man" got the Raphael Cruz treatment. He was on his way, so to speak. It would still prove to be quite a bumpy road.

Throughout the next decade, an extraordinary amount of jazz hit the New York area: various festivals flourished, not to mention the usual riches within the club scene. It was a time reserved not only for youth, but also for the mature crowd. But Raphael was not content at just playing straight ahead jazz for traditionalists. New aesthetic combinations, new attitudes toward repertoire, new paradigms and new venues all made for a more creative surge. Diversity was now the thing, and unlike the jazz festivals of the past, with their brand-polishing and sentimental favorites, these events really showed the public where the music and the culture of jazz in New York were going. Yet, Latin jazz remained marginalized. Raphael Cruz was definitely on his way, in a manner of speaking. The road to success, as they say, would turn out to be quite a bumpy one.

THE QUEST FOR RECOGNITION: A NEW (BUT OLD DILEMA)

It was at this precise point in time, when so many young percussionists sounded alike and all too often they seemed to emphasize their chops rather than their soul and authenticity, that a re-awakening began to take place, an appreciation of such subtle percussion stylists as Raphael Cruz. Slowly, some of the lightning-fast Giovanni Hidalgo clones began to learn the value of understatement, the proper usage of space, the discipline of clave and the relaxation of true swing. It was truly satisfying to have had such an institution as Raphael Cruz and his magnificent group, and of course to have heard and played his various CD’s on my radio show. I found them rich in beauty, nuance, controlled passion and un-aldulterated rhythm. But hey, that was just my humble opinion. History always seems to repeat itself, and once again, the public would have to be damned, because, in the purists eyes (or should I say ears?) these sessions did not reflect a valid art form. In 2008, Raphael’s music simply did not meet the standards of the old school Tito Puente, Ray Barretto or Poncho Sanchez format. So here we are again, in 2010, and experimental music such as that heard on "Time Traveler" is to be excluded from review. As with many artists before him, Raphael’s material has not been included in the rotation line-up of certain stations, (including one station that prides itself as being the premier jazz station in the U.S.) More often than not, these radio programers won’t give indy artists a logical reason as to why their music is not aired. The reasoning (or the lack of it) is mind boggling. So it is left to the alternative music stations to play, and as we all know, there aren’t really too many non-commercial stations out there. But this does not indicate that alternative Latin jazz is a lost cause.

By now, many devotees of fusionistic jazz (those who listen to alternative radio) have at one time or another heard Raphael’s first CD, "A Mano" and perhaps an equal amount have even contemplated purchasing it, which to my mind, is one of the greatest compliments that one can offer a jazz musician. Surely, Afro-Cuban Jazz lovers have delighted in hearing Raphael’s second production, "Bebop Timba", which won him the prestigious Grammy award for musical excellence in 2004. I believe that in anyone’s book this would have to rank as the second highest honor a musician can receive. For the record, Raphael Cruz won the coveted prize for the "Best Latin Jazz Recording of 2004". It was the best kept secret in America.

Earlier on I mentioned Raphael’s most recent endeavor; “Time Travel”, another gem of a record that includes an impressionable guest list; Sonny Fortune, Claudio Roditi, Dave Valentin, Raleph Vowen, Danilo Avilés, Stefan Held, Manuel Valera, Sergio Brandau, Pablo Vergara, Greg Murphy, Román Diaz, Giovanni Valladares, Diego Lopez, Alexis Zayas, Víctor Prieto, David Oquendo and myself, Chico Alvarez. The production was handled jointly by Raphael and Luis Güell, the recording and mastering engineer who had also been involved in one way or another with Raphael’s first two CD’s. Starting with "Bebop Timba", Güell now had a direct hand in the way Raphael’s music was recorded, and I assure you that the result has been sheer magic, which is why Güell’s studio wall is also decorated with a certificate from NARAS. Latinjazznet.com wishes them both the best of luck in their future projects together and hopes that their next collaboration will garner them their second Grammy.
Mr. Cruz currently resides with his family in North Bergen, New Jersey, and is a very active member of the arts community in the Hudson County area, often touring outside the area as well. To most of his friends and colleagues however, he is simply known as “Rafi”.

CODA

It is my contention that the past is inexplicably linked to the present, especially when it comes to the subject of music. Musicians (and all artists for that matter) tend to return to the past for inspiration and guidance, but it is definitely not the only place where one finds such inspiration. I asked a certain question at the beginning of this piece, and now, as we begin to wrap it up, I reiterate by asking Mr. Cruz himself to answer that question: "Rafi, exactly where does your inspiration come from?"

Raphael: "Inspiration, for me, comes from many different sources; past, present and future. It is a combination of genres, styles, moods and hues that I have been tuned into throughout my life. There may even be some concepts rolling around in my mind which have not fully developed yet. My experience helps me as well, because my influences are many. I have been blessed to have played with some of the best musicians in the world. Musical inspiration is like a painting, and it usually comes to me in colors. I see movement in these colors. But inspiration can also be very spiritual and transcendental. Remember that no one finishes a painting in one day, it must be worked on it, slowly. I can’t pinpoint any particular style or any one artist, it is an all-encompassing and inclusive sound, universal you might say. Ultimately, my appreciation for the music which has been evolving in my head since my formative years takes root. Each layer of sound leaves an impression on me, each generation has something new to offer, and while I always revert back to my roots, I never lose sight of what’s happening out there today. I incorporate everything that I see and hear in the world into my own version of the world. It is a deeply personal vision that is manifested in the music that I play and write. Ultimately, the feelings, the colors, the rhythms and the vision transfer themselves to the musicians with whom I play, so that they too feel it, they may experience it differently, but it all comes together, as a painting."

Raphael Cruz on the web: www.raphaelcruz.net

Feature written by: Chico Alvarez Peraza