Sebastian Schunke brings with “Life and Death” a new and very intimate touch to his music – piano solo. For the first time Sebastian plays part of his highly aclaimed compositions as a Solo pianist. On the other 4 compositions he presents his new band – the new wild high energetic young Berlin – Dan Freeman on tenor, Diego Pinera on drums and Marcel Krömker on bass. This band already toured the world with Sebastian, developing a new not yet seen and heard Modern Sound in Latin Jazz – it is maybe the most innovative band of Latin Jazz existing. The band is supported in a great way by percussionist and Grammy Award Winner Pernell Saturnino.

On this new release “Life and Death” his compositions are changing: he opens up the harmonic and the compositional structure of the songs. He keeps his music fresh and wild and leads the music to a hip experimental world jazz – totally new and unpredictably!

A Conversation with Pianist, Composer Sebastian Schunke

By Danilo Navas

LJN: Hello Sebastian, welcome again to the pages of Latin Jazz Network. It’s always a pleasure talking to you. Let’s get started with this interview by asking you about your newest recording entitled “Life and Death.” First of all, why “Life and Death”? What’s the meaning/message you wanted to convey with your latest production?

SS: Hi Danilo, for me it is also a big pleasure to be featured again on the great platform LatinJazzNet. As always you start with a tough question. The title has on the one hand some very personal reasons and on the other hand it seems to be a natural title when you come to a certain point in your life. The personal aspect: three years ago, in 2008, when I released “Back in New York” my life was different – it was still similar to the recent years. And then: my little daughter was born in 2009 – so I experienced the magic moment of a human being to be born – to come to life – and this little human being was my own daughter – this is an overwhelming, strong feeling – above all, as the pregnancy had a lot of up and downs – this was the great “life” experience since the last recording. Unfortunately, my family lost also two members because of cancer – so there you become pretty much aware of how brutal life can come to an end – and you face death. That was the personal sad experience of “death”. That is why I titled the CD “Life and death”.

When you have released some CDs and when you have traveled and played a lot – your intention of doing music changes – it all becomes a more deep sense as you question yourself more about “life and death” in general, why are we here and what is it all about?

LJN: Please tell us about the songs included in “Life and Death”

SS: I can see three type of songs included on “Life and Death”:

To get the connection to my former productions – I included as always two songs that I had already recorded on my former CDs. “Susanne” I had recorded on “Back in New York” with Paquito and “Mouvement” I had recorded on “Vida Pura” and on “Mouvement”. I took the challenge to record “Mouvement” as a Solo-Piano tune – I liked that idea –as I originally had composed it for 12 musicians.

Concerning the other Group tunes, I composed the way I usually prefer to compose – I knew the band members – so I could imagine the group sound and I wanted to bring my music again to new unkown borders. Actually, I am very proud of the compositions “Berlin”, “Adelante” and “Misterioso”. I think you can still hear the old “Schunke” but at the same time see the new horizons – I included more the free space – but also concentrated on strong but unusual rhythms and on opening up the harmonic structure.

Finally, there are the songs for solo piano. This was a totally new experience for me – to find my voice as a solo pianist and my style as a composer for solo piano: these are the songs “Rapsodia No. 1”, “Ohnmacht” and “Kanon Final”. I tried new compositional elements – I forced myself to invent new approaches to create sounds and harmonies on the piano – I was nervous at the beginning – but I really begin to like it a lot.

LJN: Please tell us about your new band and its members.

SS: I recorded with my new band, which I formed in autumn 2008 – right after the release of “Back in New York”. We had a great China tour in 2008 and at once I could feel the special energy of this band. It is my Berlin Quartet – we toured a lot – and so I think that you can hear a strong Band Sound. We have a lot of fun traveling and playing together. I am very proud of this group – as I feel a strong unique group sound – and I feel free in my way of playing thanks to their understanding – it feels very good. So there is Marcel Krömker on bass, Diego Pinera on drums and Dan Freeman on sax. Dan already recorded some tunes on “Vida Pura”. For the first time I am now the “old” guy – they are young and very good players. They have all the same age and they are “hungry” – I like that – they keep my sound fresh and unpredictable – that is what we want: to surprise and to challenge.

And I was very lucky to add to the band and record again after “Back in New York” with Pernell Saturnino – one of my favorite percussion players – he is awesome and fits perfectly in the group sound – so it is a kind of special mixture of Berlin and New York.

		CD: Life and Death Artist: Sebastian Schunke Label: Connector Records Country: Germany Track: Berlin Author: Sebastian Schunke

LJN: How do you feel after having accomplished several recordings, performing and touring?

SS: Oh Danilo, another tough one – I ask myself often this question and do not get a straight answer. So let me try it – on the one hand, I feel happy to have met great musicians who played my music in a way that I really like and love. I feel very happy and thankful about everybody, like LatinJazzNet who really is listening to my music – to all of my music. So all of you guys are like family – as my music is very personal – as music should be in general. Having several of your own recordings, it is interesting to listen to your former projects – it is sometimes as if you listen to somebody else – somehow you can see your own story. This is the best part – you can see that your music still seems to work – so that there will be a chance to do a lot more recordings, to tell a lot more stories and to meet a lot more great musicians and listeners. I love that idea – I am already planning new projects. I had so many great experiences touring and playing my music – I feel very grateful.

But we all know – creative music is in a tough process – some festivals are more and more afraid of having bands who do not fit in a certain frame – and to be honest my music does not fit in any of these frameworks – a European – even German, who lived in New York and Berlin, makes a kind of Latin Jazz, but changing all the traditional rhythms in mostly odd meters, using strange harmonies and even including free parts – combining everything and mixing it to a whatever brew. I would say – it is just music, it is just what I feel – but that is not a big selling point. So I often have to struggle to convince people to not be afraid and just listen.

LJN: You’ve been touring South America during the recent years. What kind of experience have you had?

SS: Actually, in South America I do not have to struggle at all – strange enough. It is so great to travel and play in South America – People are really open. Young and older people come to the concerts – they do listen, they do understand and they give you a lot of energy – I only had very very good experiences in South America – I played a lot in Colombia, Venezuela, Chile, Uruguay, and Peru – and I was always freaked out in a positive way! So hopefully there will be a lot of more gigs coming up in South America.

LJN: Thank you Sebastian for updating our readers on your new project “Life and Death”, Congratulations and all the best in your future endeavors.

Related links:

Sebastian Schunke Music: www.sebastianschunke.com/
myspace site: www.myspace.com/schunke

Grupo Falso Baiano is a choro group that offers a window into the history and diverse culture of Brazil. Choro is one of Brazil’s earliest popular musics, dating back to the late 1800s, and, similar to jazz, it reflects the melding of African rhythms with a melodic and harmonic structure closely resembling Baroque Classical music. G.F.B.’s exploration of choro spans nearly 100 years, including everything from the traditional to more contemporary versions and jazz influenced reinterpretations. In addition to performing and touring, Grupo Falso Baiano has worked in collaboration with the Pasadena Pops, Around the World Music Program, Young Audiences of Northern CA, and Youth in Arts, to bring choro and Brazilian music to students throughout California.

Grupo Falso Baiano takes its name from the famous Geraldo Pereira song “Falsa Baiana,” made famous by Joao Gilberto, among others. A “falsa baiana” (or falso baiano) is a fake Bahian: one who claims to come from the state of Bahia, named after its famous bay. Hence the play on words as it applies to Grupo Falso Baiano: since we hail from the San Francisco Bay Area, we are Bahians of North America, but are “fake Brazilians”. “We picked the name to honestly reflect our love and respect for the music we play. Our take on choro is to preserve the traditional sounds and instruments while incorporating our own influences and heritage.”

Grupo Falso Baiano is: Zack Pitt-Smith, reeds, Brian Moran, 7 string guitar, Jesse Appelman, mandolin (bandolim), and Ami Molinelli, percussion.

A Conversation with Guitarist Brian Moran

By Danilo Navas

LJN: Hello Brian, welcome to the pages of Latin Jazz Network. It’s a pleasure talking to you. Let’s get started with this interview by asking you about Grupo Falso Baiano’s newest recording (the second one) entitled “Simplicidade: Live at Yoshi’s.” But before, let’s go back to the beginnings of Grupo Falso Baiano. It started in the San Francisco Bay Area as a trio in 2003. It became a quartet in 2006. Your first CD Viajando Choro e Jazz came out in 2008. None of you are Brazilian. Why Choro music? What sparked your interest and made you take that direction?

BM: It’s hard to explain why and how someone gets bitten by the choro bug. For us – as musicians – I think it’s the special way that melody, harmony and rhythm come together in the form of choro. There’s nothing unique in traditional choro that isn’t found in jazz harmony, melody and rhythm, but the way it all comes together, with the particular instruments, and particular way of playing, is what makes it so addictive. Coming from a jazz background, my interest had a lot to do with the rootsy, acoustic quality – and the lack of a drum kit or bassist. It was fascinating to hear something that swung so hard that had no bass (only 7 string guitar), and instead of a drum kit, a single pandeiro (tambourine like instrument).

LJN: Your take on Choro music has a distinctive American flavor: Brazilian music with a Jazz accent…

BM: For us, it was simple: out of respect for the tradition, and those who grew up with it all their lives and play choro professionally in Brazil, we weren’t about to try to pass ourselves off as Brazilians, or try to emulate the Brazilian way at the expense of expressing ourselves – which is going to happen anyway. So sure, we transcribe Brazilian recordings, travel to Brazil and play with Brazilians and all of that, but in the end, any sincere musician is going to leave a part of them self in the music they play, so we recognized that and made it a plus.

LJN: Let’s talk about your collaboration with Jovino Santos Neto for this Live recording. Jovino is certainly one of the greatest Brazilian artists living in America.

BM: No doubt. I’m surprised how many people aren’t aware of him. He was Hermeto Pascoal’s right hand man for 20 years. And many jazz musicians forget about Hermeto. Miles Davis collaborated with him on Live Evil, and called him, “…the most impressive musician in the world”. To be in Hermeto’s band alone is no small feat. Jovino is an incredible spirit and inspiration, and an honor to work with.

LJN: How did this collaboration with Jovino happen?

BM: Jovino was a fixture at the California Brazil Camp for many years. We all met him there and got to know him over the years. As a result, we had him perform on our first record “Viajando: Choro e Jazz” in 2008. Around the time of the 2010 Yoshi’s concert, he was teaching at Jazz Camp West with our percussionist Ami Molinelli. So after the camp, we threw together a quick afternoon rehearsal and had him perform with us at the concert 2 days later.

		CD: Simplicidade: Live at Yoshi’s Artist: Grupo Falso Baiano Label: Massaroca Records Country: USA Track: Feira Livre Author: Jovino Santos Neto

Based in the San Francisco Bay Area, Grupo Falso Baiano teams up with Brazilian master Jovino Santos Neto on this delightful Live in concert new release. A great follow-up to Viajando Choro e Jazz (their first recording), Simplicidade: Live at Yoshi’s showcases Grupo Falso Baiano’s original take on the classical Brazilian style, incorporating three compositions by special guest, Santos Neto. They have carved themselves a niche in an increasingly competitive musical environment with extraordinary results. Percussionist Brian Rice is also featured as a special guest.

LJN: Let’s talk about the compositions you included in “Simplicidade”.

BM: Aside from Jovino’s 3 compositions (Feira Livre, Rosa Cigana and Kenny É Você), they are all covers. It’s a mix of traditional choro tunes (Caminhando, Cheguei, Doce de Coco, Simplicidade), and a few lesser known tunes (Bem Brasil, Deixe o Breque) and a “forró” (Forró na Penha). Something we always do in shows and on records is to play tunes from different eras in choro, as well as material that isn’t considered pure choro (like the forró).

* Forró is a kind of Northeastern Brazilian dance that developed from European styles of folk music such as “Chula” and “Xotis” (term that originated the derivate “xote”), as well as a word used to denote the different genres of music which accompanies the dance. Both are much in evidence during the annual Festa Junina (June Festival), a part of Brazilian traditional culture which celebrates some Catholic saints. The most celebrated day of the festival is known as São João. (From Wikipedia)

* Choro, traditionally called chorinho (“little cry” or “little lament”), is a Brazilian popular music instrumental style. Its origins are in 19th century Rio de Janeiro. In spite of the name, the style often has a fast and happy rhythm, characterized by virtuosity, improvisation, subtile modulations and full of syncopation and counterpoint. Choro is considered the first urban popular music typical of Brazil. (From Wikipedia)

LJN: How has Grupo Falso Baiano and its music been received by the public? by your peers? how difficult has been to find a niche market in such a competitive environment?

BM: It’s been very well received. I think the public appreciates how different it sounds to their ears. When we do Latin festivals (like on the Latin Stage at the San Jose Jazz Fest), we often get sandwiched between big “latin jazz” groups, with piano, drum kit and congas, horn sections, etc etc. With all that volume and energy, our smaller tighter sound stands out, and I think people really enjoy the contrast. We’ve all dedicated a lot of time to this – learning to speak Portuguese, traveling and/or living in Brazil, studying and performing with Brazilian masters of these forms. So I think there’s a lot of appreciation among our peers. And as for finding a niche, it’s been a blessing. Frankly, with so few band performing choro (though that’s changing!), it’s much easier to book our group than say, another jazz quartet, of which there are many, and a limited audience.

LJN: So, we can say you have had a full immmersion in Brazilian music.

BM: I think we’re all just following our passion for the music, and down the rabbit hole we go! Everything has been a natural extension of that. You realize quickly that language can be a barrier, and through the desire to obtain as much knowledge as possible, it becomes evident that you need to speak the language. Then once you’re speaking, the next step seems to be to follow the river to the source, and go to Brazil. Being there, and seeing how the musicians perform the music, both formally and informally is invaluable and is something we try to bring back with us and present in our shows and workshops. For us, it’s all about channelling our love and respect for the music through our own experiences and musical personalities.

LJN: Congratulations Brian, “Simplicidade” is a terrific recording. Latin Jazz Network wishes you all the best on your coming projects.

More information about “Simplicidade: Live at Yoshi’s” at: www.grupofalsobaiano.com

Related links:

Brian Moran Music: www.brianmoranmusic.com
Grupo Falso Baiano: www.grupofalsobaiano.com

Antonio Adolfo grew up in a musical family in Rio de Janeiro (his mother was a violinist in the Brazilian Symphony Orchestra), and began his studies at the age of seven. At seventeen he was already a professional musician. His teachers include Eumir Deodato and the great Nadia Boulanger in Paris. During the 60′s he led his own trio and toured with singers Elis Regina and Milton Nascimento. Adolfo wrote tunes that gained great success and have been recorded by such artists as Sérgio Mendes, Stevie Wonder, Herb Alpert, Earl Klugh, Dionne Warwick, and others. He won International Song Contests on two occasions. As a musician and arranger he has worked with some of the most representative Brazilian names, besides having released more than 25 albums under his name. In 1985 Mr. Adolfo created his own school in Rio, Brazil. His most recent studio recording, Chora Baião, follows in the footsteps of his previous CDs, Lá e Cá/Here and There (released in 2010), and the 2007 live recording Antonio Adolfo e Carol Saboya Ao Vivo/ Live. Antonio Adolfo is currently conducting a music school in Hollywood, FL (USA) where, along with other instructors, he teaches Brazilian Music, Jazz, and Pop.

A Conversation with Pianist, Composer, Educator Antonio Adolfo

By Danilo Navas

Hello Antonio, it’s my pleasure talking to you in light of the release of your new recording entitled Chora Baião. Our readers will be delighted with your insightful answers and commentaries to my questions. Let’s start the conversation.

LJN: Choro and Baião are among the most popular two-beat Brazilian music styles. Choro originated in Rio, Baião in the northeast of Brazil. What are the commonalities and differences between them (if any)? Where do they cross? Where do they separate?

AA: Both are two-beat musical styles, both have African influences as, in general, other Brazilian two-beat styles have, but Choro carries more influences from the traditional European dances, such as Polka, Mazurkas, etc., Baião carries the Moorish-flavored musical atmosphere of the Iberian Peninsula. As you know Brazil was colonized by the Portuguese, whose music, as well as the one from Spain has lots of the characteristics from the Moors culture, who at certain moment in history, invaded and left their influence in the Iberian Peninsula’s countries, such as Spain and Portugal. And when Baião started to be developed in Brazil it incorporated some typical modalism that could be considered as influences from that Iberian music. The typical musical scale found in Baião shows an hybridism of both, tonal and modal (Lydian flat seven and mixolydian scales) – I think it is not necessary to go so deep in that analysis. Anyway, Choro’s scale carries more of the influences from classical music with its tonal system. What also occurs is that, in Brazil, Choro, Baião, Samba and their derivatives can be found in the Brazilian Maracatu that somewhat synthesizes all of them. Maracatu combines the African culture and the Roman Catholic religion adopted by the rich farmers from the period of Brazil’s colonization by the Portuguese, when the African slaves were brought to work for them. Nowadays, however, Brazilian Jazz musicians adopted all those styles and that mixture to their interpretations. Sometimes you go from one style to another without even noticing how much they can fuse themselves.

LJN: Is there an instrument (or more than one) that we can identify with those two music styles?

AA: Traditionally the two styles used different instrumentation. For example, Choro could use guitars, flute, piano, violin and other common instruments found in the classical music instrumentation. Pandeiro (Brazilian tambourine) was not yet used at that time, which we call Belle Epoque, but later when African descendants started to join the typical Choro groups, then pandeiro was totally absorbed by such groups. Baião used the typical Trio Nordestino (Northeastern Trio) formed by accordion, zabumba (a flat bass drum) and triangle. Sometimes you could find the “pifano” flute -a small hand made wood flute. Very characteristical for the Baião was also the melancholic chants sung by the “cantadores” with their sad melodies, combining the different scales used in Baião. It is interesting to notice here that, in both styles, despite some sadness found in the melodies, both (Baião, Choro and, even, Samba) are very rhythmic and danceable. Maybe that is one of Brazilian Music characteristics as well. Some (and more) of the explained can be found on my book Brazilian Music Workshop (Advance Music)

LJN: Carlos Althier de Souza Lemos Escobar (better known as Guinga) and Francisco Buarque de Hollanda (better known as Chico Buarque) are two giants of Brazilian music. What made you choose their musical works as inspiration for your new CD Chora Baião?

AA: As you say, they truly are two giants, but unfortunately not cultivated by Jazz oriented musicians due to several musical factors, as, for example, the harmonic styles found in their music are not the ones generally found in Jazz typical chords and/or chord sequences, I would even say that to build a Jazz solo based on, for example, some Guinga’s (or Chico’s) tunes can be a real challenge, since he (them) go through very different sequences of chords if compared to the II ­ V ­ I, or, even, through the modal ways adopted by Jazz music till nowadays. And even when they use typical harmonic sequences found in Jazz, they use different bass lines, which by itself create different colors. So, I thought it would be interesting to build that bridge that I’ve tried on the new CD and, then, bringing different colors to Brazilian Jazz than the ones normally used, for example, colors found in the music of another giant (Antonio Carlos Jobim) and few others. To achieve that goal it required a deep work and I went through all their songbooks searching which songs (among more than 300) I would feel more affinity and, therefore, could combine with my musical style. Then, I’ve decided recording three of my songs as well.

		CD: Chora Baião Artist: Antonio Adolfo Label: AAM Music Country: USA/Brazil Track: Dá O Pé, Loro (Hey Parrot! Give Me Your Foot) Author: Guinga

LJN: What can you tell us about the modern revival of Choro music?

AA: Its revival started to come to scene during the 80′s, by musicians in Brazil. First by Choro musicians, mainly in Rio and, then, by Jazz oriented ones. And I can include myself among these, since the recording of my album “Os Pianeiros” (1981), where I payed tribute to the great Ernesto Nazareth, one of the most important Brazilian composers of all times, and the subsequent ones: “João Pernambuco – 100 Anos”, a tribute to the guitarist and great Brazilian Choro composer and “Chiquinha Com Jazz” (another very important and influential Brazilian composer and conductor). Nowadays you can see a countless number of great musicians writing and playing very nice Choros and, among them, people like Guinga that, in my opinion, could be considered the one that reinvented that style.

LJN: Is there any difference between Choro and Chorinho?

AA: Chorinho is an affectionate form of calling Choro. In addition, we could say that Choro embodies several subgenres and similar styles as, for example, maxixe, lundu, polka (Brazilian Polka), tango brasileiro, etc, and even waltzes (Valsa Brasileira).

LJN: Let’s talk about the songs that you included on Chora Baião, starting with your own compositions, which by the way, fit perfectly and embody the spirit of this new project.

AA: There is a brand new one, “Chora, Baião” (Cry, Baião). I had written that song two years ago and it was in the “waiting list” to be recorded. And this was the perfect time to do that. There is another one that I’ve created for a composition class, when I was studying with master Guerra-Peixe, in Brazil, in 1975, “Chicote” (Whip), It was included in my 1977 “Feito em casa’ album, but as I’ve been playing that song in some shows and Concerts, it started to take different forms and for the new album I thought it fitted perfectly. Besides the type of chords used I have inserted a section with 24 measures, sort of Blues form but with typical Baião chord sequences, and one that I’ve written totally inspired by the songs of Chico and Guinga, “Chorosa Blues”, a piano solo, that I’ve decided to play just once for the track, simply the tune. In the album it has 1:24 length.

Note from the Editor: more information about Chora Baião at: www.antonioadolfo.info

LJN: Let’s talk about the musicians that joined you on this recording.

AA: Oh yeah, these are the guys, all GREAT musicians: Leo Amuedo (guitarist), born in Uruguay, worked in Holland for sometime and then went to Brazil to join Brazilian composer and singer Ivan Lins’ group. Leo is an incredible musician and peforms very inspired solos during the whole album. Jorge Helder, actually playing with Chico Buarque, represents what a bass player has to be: besides, his harmony knowledge, Jorge has a sense of the whole in a musical group, comes up with nice suggestions, he is very precise and well tuned: a real great bass player! Rafael Barata is one of the best Brazilian drummers I’ve ever met. He reminds me of Edson Machado, the inventor of playing samba using the cymbals ­that was in the 60′s. Back to Rafael, I am very impressed by his musicianship, his precision and, besides all that, he makes me feel very comfortable to express myself musically. Marcos Suzano, one of the most influential and precise percussionists from Brazil. The way he approaches and plays the pandeiro (Brazilian tambourine) has completely changed the function and possibilities of that instrument in popular music, not just Choro, but any style. He can play any style of music on pandeiro. Besides that, his musicianship adds much to any group of musicians. The way he chooses the percussion instruments to fit every song. I loved the experience of having him in the album. And, there is also Carol in two songs, singing “Você, você”, by Guinga and Chico, and vocalizes on “A Ostra e o Vento” (The Oyster and the Wind). Carol is great and I feel always very gifted having her with me in my recent albums. The most recent ones: Antonio Adolfo – Lá e Cá/Here and There, and Antonio Adolfo and Carol Saboya – Ao Vivo/Live are examples of the nice combination of our styles.

LJN: You credit Oscar Peterson as one of your major jazz influences. Being myself from Canada, I had to ask you how this came to be.

AA: When I started to listen to Jazz, Oscar Peterson became one of my favorites and biggest influences. He was (is) GREAT!!! I was very impressed by his musicianship and his way of playing Jazz. It is hard to describe.

LJN: Can you tell us about your intensive educational work (in both countries, Brazil and United States)?

AA: Since I’ve studied with all my masters, including Brazilian Guerra-Peixe, my dear French teacher Nadia Boulanger and all others, I could notice the importance of transmitting our musical knowledge to others. Besides that, teaching is another way for you to keep practicing. You have to be ready to answer to any question, you have to practice chords in any key, etc., and you learn a lot from the students. So, since 1975 I became a music teacher and, in 1985, created my school in Rio, Centro Musical Antonio Adolfo, which is very active, with a big number of nice teachers and students. Actually, besides, the school in Rio, which is more under the direction of my two daughters Carol and Luisa ­I go to Rio and work at the school four or five times a year. ­ I am also conducting an experimental school in Hollywood , FL (USA), Antonio Adolfo School Of Music, where I teach music, mainly Brazilian music for adults and children. It has been a nice experience as well. Once in a while I go to other places to teach Brazilian music clinics as well.

LJN: I quote the following from an online source: “…the legendary Brazilian composer Antonio Adolfo, the first Brazilian musician to play the Fender Rhodes”. What can you tell us about this?

AA: Yes, that was in 1969, when I created my group Antonio Adolfo e a Brazuca, a sort of Sergio Mendes’ influenced band. ­Sergio had recorded my song “Sa Marina” (Pretty World) in that year and I was a big fan of him and his group. The Fender Rhodes was a new possibility in terms of sound for pianists and I wanted to try that. I still like its sound, but, to tell the truth, for the music I’ve been playing lately, I prefer the acoustic piano.

LJN: Besides promoting your new CD Chora Baião, and continuing your dedicated educational work, what’s next for Antonio Adolfo? Any project(s) that you’re already planning to pursue? Any project(s) you still haven’t been able to acomplish?

AA: I enjoy what I’ve been doing. I enjoy recording (my albums and being guest of other artists as well), performing (I’ve been performing mostly in Brazil, but also in the US). There are no projects right now, since I am dedicating much time to my new “baby”, the CD “Chora Baião” and cannot forget my students as well. Of course, ideas always come to my mind all the time, so, at anytime a new project can become reality.

LJN: Congratulations on another magnificent project. Latin Jazz Network wishes you all the best on this and future endeavors. Is there anything else you would like to add to close this conversation?

AA: Thank you. I’ve enjoyed your questions. It has been a pleasure answering to them.

Related links:

Antonio Adolfo – Chora Baião: www.antonioadolfo.info
Centro Musical Antonio Adolfo – Brazil: www.antonioadolfo.mus.br
Antonio Adolfo School Of Music – USA: www.antonioadolfo.net

An In-Depth Conversation With Pianist, Composer, Arranger, Bandleader and Musical Director Arturo O’Farrill

By Tomas Peña – March, 2011

“Lord, I want to be on unsure footing, I want to be challenged, I want to feel like I am always and every day, not comfortable, not retreading. It’s really important to me that every time I play the piano that it is a new experience. If I walk away from writing a piece and I don’t feel that I have done something new, I feel guilty! I feel like I have shucked and “jived” my responsibility”- Arturo O’Farrill

Arturo O’Farrill is a self-proclaimed chatterbox and an interviewer’s fantasy. In this, my second interview with the piano master and bandleader we discuss his family, his art, his philosophy and his mission to bring music education back to our public schools. As you will see, Arturo is a poetic and fearless speaker who makes no bones about the “machine,” the “cookie cutters” and the future of Afro Cuban Jazz. In addition, Arturo speaks candidly about the Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra’s “emancipation,” its current status and why he feels it is “here to stay.” With their feet in the present and their heads in the future, Arturo O’Farrill and his sons, Adam and Zack are carrying the O’Farrill legacy into the 21st century.

Tomas Peña: When your wife picked up the telephone I heard the sweet sounds of a piano in the background. Given the fact that there are so many musicians in the O’Farrill household, I was wondering if it was you.

Arturo O’Farrill: Yeah, that was me. I was practicing, practicing, practicing! Someday I am going to learn how to play the piano! The Big Band is a labor of love, but at heart, I am a pianist. It’s like putting on different hats. When I put on the Big Band hat I don’t feature myself. People get angry with me and complain that I don’t play enough but being the leader of a Big Band is more than just conducting; you have to pay attention to every detail. It’s an entirely different “head” from playing the piano with a group.

TP: Prior to calling you, I was listening to “Arturo O’Farrill, Live in Brooklyn,” which you recorded in 2005 with bassist Andy Gonzalez and drummer, Dafnis Prieto. I highly recommend it to anyone who is interested in sampling your music with a small group.

AO: I would like to record a “Live in Brooklyn 2.”

TP: Speaking of wearing the Big Band hat, the concert at Symphony Space (“Cuba Nola – More than the Spanish Tinge“) was terrific.

AO: Thank you. We had a lot of fun. Playing the music of Cuba and New Orleans has been done hundreds of times, but putting them together has not been done often. I didn’t want the presentation to be too academic; I wanted the music to teach the lesson.

TP: The venue was packed, the audience was supportive and energetic, your message was well received.

AO: Actually, I feel like people are just starting to cope with the fact that there is a message. You know, we are not going away (Laughs). The Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra deserves to exist in a very powerful way because we are different, we are not replicating, we are not regurgitating and we are not trying to be new for the sake of being new. I have a philosophy and the older I get the more I understand it. My philosophy is this: We do not yet understand what this music is. When you insist on separating it into vanilla and chocolate or Latin and jazz, you are a fool. I feel like we are just starting to discover jazz.

TP: Was that what you had in mind when you said, “This isn’t a museum band?”

AO: The fact that you are exploring a philosophy does not necessarily mean that you have it crystallized in your mind. Sometimes I look at my message and say to myself, “What the hell am I talking about?” The original idea behind the Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra was to explore the canon of our Big Band tradition. The one caveat I made from the beginning was that in no way, shape or form would we ever recreate performances of classic material. We weren’t going to take “Wild Jungle” and play it the way Machito did. Our “mission” was to take that classic music and figure out a way to play it in a contemporary fashion that respected the roots and our arsenal of culture in 2011. So the “museum band” thing is really funny because there are a lot of them now, starting with Jazz at Lincoln Center. Whose stated mission is to recreate an experience that took place one hundred years ago, which I think is unbelievably silly. Jazz was never meant to be classical music. It does not need to be validated like classical music. The same thing with Latin music, when we perform, I don’t care if we are playing “Mambo Inn” or Vijay Iyer’s “Mad Hatter,” the same spirit of exploration and chaos and newness and the same high wire kind of fearlessness has to take place.

I have to tell you a funny story about saxophonist, Bobby Porcelli. Every time we do a new concert, Bobby calls and asks, “Are we going to do anything weird?” Then we get into the rehearsal process and I will bring in some Vijay Iyer stuff, or Peruvian music or Colombian music and invariably Bobby says, “I don’t know if I can do it.” And I say “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, just play the freakin’ music!” But there is a beautiful lesson in that, we want to be uncomfortable, I want to make big mistakes; I want to make loud mistakes, because if we are not growing as musicians then the music we are playing is dying. Nothing brings me to tears faster than seeing people play like robots. Can you imagine Chico O’Farrill pulling out the charts for the “Afro Cuban Jazz Suite” when he did? The guys in the band must have looked at him and said, “What the hell are you writing? We can’t play this stuff.” When I am writing a piece of music I look at it and I go, “I don’t know if this is going to work, I don’t know if this is going to fly, I don’t know if the guys are going to like it, I don’t know if the audience is going to like it, it’s awful.” And then I say, “Screw it! I am going to play it anyway!” (Laughs)

TP: Jon Pareles, of the New York Times described your music as, “Dizzyingly complex and earthly joy.”

AO: It is a beautiful quote and I will tell you why. That’s what I’ve been trying to do my whole life, marry this idea that the intellect is not separate from the passion. You don’t have to arrest your mind to move your body, you don’t have to let go of the future to enjoy the past. The dichotomy is that you can embrace music with everything, with your body, your mind and your heart. Some people don’t see it that way. There is a very strong notion in Western classical philosophy that the mind and the body are separate, as if there is something wrong with the flesh, or enjoying yourself. On the other side of the equation, there are artists who have enjoyed a measure of success playing very “safe” music and who worry about their ability to continue to work. I have never made a living doing this, I would rather make art. As long as I am not going to make a living I might as well make art!

TP: That’s a lesson that you learned from bandleader, Carla Bley. In a recent interview with Chip Boaz of “The Latin Jazz Corner,” you mentioned that Carla “did things for the sake of the art.” Moreover, she “cast the mold that you would follow for the rest of your life.”

AO: That’s so true.

TP: Getting back to the concert, let’s talk about the piece, “Fathers and Sons,” where your sons, Adam and Zack and friends took to the stage and jammed with the orchestra and Donald Harrison. I understand the piece also went over very big in Cuba.

AO: That’s an original composition. I’ve held many academic positions and sometimes the attitude of jazz and academic teachers is that the students are too full of themselves and don’t know anything. In my opinion, those people are scared of what the students might teach them. It doesn’t matter to me if a young person plays the right chord and the wrong note or vice versa. As long as they have passion and they are strong, that’s all that matters. When I was Adam’s age I didn’t know what the hell we were doing but we were playing as if our lives depended on it. That kind of passion is not taught. In fact, if anything the schools try to smash that passion out of you. It’s funny because when I see these young people I realize that they have never stood before an Afro Latin orchestra. Even the young kids in Cuba, they have their little conjuntos, but an Afro Latin Big Band, that’s a big edifice! For them to stand before an orchestra like that and get to play with Donald Harrison and be encouraged to use their full voice with no fear or shame, it’s one of the most beautiful things that they have ever done.

TP: Your sons are gifted musicians, you must be very proud.

AO: Yes, they are extraordinary musicians. I am very blessed. I don’t pretend to be oblivious to the fact that it could be very different. I have to credit my wife for being a beautiful mom and for raising my sons beautifully. I think that music is an honorable profession. If I was a great doctor and my kids became great doctors it would be the same thing. We love what we do. Unfortunately, my father never received the recognition he deserved.

TP: Nevertheless, Chico’s legacy speaks volumes.

AO: I don’t know why he didn’t get the recognition, I may not either, but I think it’s important that in the world of jazz the name O’Farrill be represented. He did it because of the music, not because of the “machine.” There is the music and the “machine.” The music feeds the “machine,” but the “machine” controls what goes on in public.

TP: I take it the “machine” represents the powers that be in the music industry.

AO: The whole point of the “Fathers and Sons” piece is that Cuba is one of the fathers of jazz. I don’t think a lot of people realize that. In fact, Mario Bauzá said, “I don’t think Americans realize that a lot of the music that they listen to is Cuban in origin.” It’s about Cuba and Africa giving birth to music that we have co-opted and called our creation. That’s why going back to Cuba was so important. I went back to Cuba to acknowledge and give thanks to a nation and a people that gave birth to my father and gave birth to a music that I embrace every day of my life.

TP: Speaking of your recent trip to Cuba, journalist, Larry Birnbaum did such a marvelous and thorough job of covering your trip to the island. Rather than re-hash the facts, I am providing the link to Larry’s piece:

The last time we spoke you mentioned that you and your father had a “complicated” relationship. Did that have anything to do with the trip to Cuba?

AO: That’s a very good question. I did have a very complicated relationship with my father. He was a very narcissistic human being, however his narcissism was not born out of selfishness; it was born out of his upbringing and the entitlement that came with being an upper-class white Cuban. It’s really funny because it is something that is replicated in virtually every Latin American country. There is a “gentry.” My father and his family occupied a very “moneyed” and very powerful position in Cuba. He grew up in this environment of entitlement, but he had the good sense to break out of it and to love someone who is earthy and passionate. Had he not fallen in love with music he probably would have been one of the “higher up” party members. Cuban music comes from the earth, from the ground, it pulls you and it wraps its arms around you. The real Afro Cuban folkloric music is deep. Psychologically speaking, my father and I had issues because he grew up in a patriarchal environment and he was never embraced or coddled as a child. When I was growing up he had difficulty showing emotion. On top of that he was an artist.

I can tell you from my experience that artists are narcissistic by nature. I think the world revolves around me, I know it doesn’t. But when I have a piece to write or I have to do this gig, everyone has to stop what they are doing so that I can get my agenda. Thankfully, my wife balances me out. I know that my father loved me and my sister as much as I care for my kids. We are not the product of our parents, you have to let go of the whiney bullshit and move on. When I took my mother to Cuba, it was not an epiphany for me; it was a chance to put my father to rest. I feel like I have spent a lot of time playing my father’s music. Now it’s time for me to play my own. I will play his music until the day I die, but getting him to Cuba was the responsible thing to do and a way of saying goodbye.

Getting back to the theme of “Fathers and Sons” and taking chances, my father took chances. For the most part, when my father was being creative he wrote exactly what he wanted to write and he didn’t apologize for it. That’s easy to say and it’s easy to assume that everybody does it, but it doesn’t happen that often. That’s because when you take chances it doesn’t always work out. I won’t say any names, however, I have had this conversation with the world’s number one jazz purist and he said to me, “Nobody cares about this music. We are turning out jazz graduates from our schools and conservatories and there are no jobs. No one cares about our music.” You have to think about that for a second and the responsibility that we have as artists and entertainers to the future of young people. If we don’t make an effort to make our music relevant and progressive, we are doing a tremendous disservice to these young people, because they are going to come out learning our tricks, our scales and our bullshit and have nowhere to work.

TP: To the best of your knowledge, what becomes of the students after they graduate?

AO: Many of them become teachers who perpetuate “the machine.” They become “cookie cutters.” We are trying really hard to progress the art, to make it relevant, to have people say, “Oh shit, I didn’t know you can do that. Let me listen some more.” Again, I relate a lot of this to “Fathers and Sons” because I know that my future is secure, but young people have to have a vision of their own.

TP: Your sons, Adam and Zack have a vision. I look forward to hearing their debut recording, “Giant Peach.” I understand that most of the material was composed by Adam.

AO: Adam is easily as gifted a composer as he is a trumpet player and he writes some of the most original and compelling music that I have heard from anybody. Zack is deeply ingrained in the performance of that music.

TP: During performance at Symphony Space you mentioned that you and Donald Harrison learned a lot from one another. What did you learn from one another? Beyond that, what did you learn about the musical relationship between Cuba and New Orleans?

AO: Donald is a legitimate bad ass jazz player. He did some cool jazz albums, some hip-hop. He’s not scared of any of this and all of the music that he plays, that I have heard, has its feet heavily planted in the roots. He is not just trying to play hip-hop because he is trying to make money. It’s coming from a deep place in his soul. I have always watched him play in different settings and I have always said, “Man, that’s a bad ass saxophone player,” but more importantly he has his feet planted in the past and his eyes on the future. That’s the kind of musician I want to be. I wanted to have Donald Harrison play with us a long time ago but I was scared of him because he is a very serious person. I was playing a gig and he was looking at me from the bar and I thought he hated my music! I went on tour to Indonesia and was stuck on a plane with him for hours and we got to talk and in the process I found out that he didn’t really hate me. He liked me, liked my music and was interested in what I am doing. I wanted to explore the music with someone who understood the future and I thought Donald would be the perfect guy.

TP: Having Donald as guest was an excellent choice. I am familiar with his music and the fact that he is a “Big Chief” (in the Mardi Gras tradition) but I have never seen him in a live setting, much less with an Afro Cuban Big Band backing him up. I was impressed.

AO: Another thing, people seem to think that the Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra came out of Jazz at Lincoln Center and we have those long bucks.” Bullshit! We are mom and pop, we are paid so little and we work so hard. When I approach a potential guest artists I say, “We don’t have any money, all we have is love and music and you have eighteen musicians at your disposal.” God Bless Randy Weston, Vijay Iyer, Gabriel Alegria, Donald Harrison, Miguel Zenón and the long list of heroes, who when asked, never said “No.”

TP: Inside Joke: It’s not like Miguel needs the money!

(Interviewer’s notes: Alto saxophonist and composer Miguel Zenón was named one of 25 recipients of the 2008 by the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation fellowship, an award that pays $500,000 over five years).

AO: (Laughs) I love Miguel. He is a serious bad ass. The thing about bad asses is, they don’t care about the publicity or the money. The real bad asses don’t groom themselves for fame, they groom themselves for music. That’s what all of these bad asses have in common, they are not there to get rich; they are there because they understand that we are a forward looking orchestra who is ready and willing to play their music, their way. Take (pianist) Vijay Iyer; I approached him and told him that we didn’t have any money and he wrote a beautiful, amazing piece for me titled, “The Mad Hatter.”

TP: What did you learn from Donald Harrison?

AO: Quite literally, we (the orchestra) learned a different way of counting. He wrote a piece called “Quantum Leap”…

TP: Ah yes, “Quantum Leap” was definitely one of the highlights of the evening.

AO: He showed us a different way to count that music. We figured out how to put it in notation. His group doesn’t write out the music, they just teach it to each other. He knows how to read and write music, but it was a very important moment for us because you can do that with a small group but getting eighteen guys to play together the same thing without notation is an entirely different matter. He also taught our percussionists how to play second-line percussion. The thing that we taught each other is the deep current in our music is the same. The waters that run in the deepest foundations of our music run the same. That’s not new to us, but it’s a relearning that you can never relearn enough. The patterns for second-line, Zydeco might be slightly different from tumbaos, mambos, guagancos but they come from the exact some place, it’s a “deepness” that we can’t stop rediscovering. The piece that I wrote with a little rag-time thing occurred to me when I was a student. One day I was playing a Scott Joplin piece and I said to myself, “Holy shit, my right hand is playing a montuno!” With respect to Donald, we didn’t look at him as a guest artist. We looked at him as family.

TP: While we are on the subject of learning, tell me about the work that the Afro Latin Jazz Alliance is doing. Could you give me an example of a student whose life has been impacted by the AFLJA’s music education programs?

AO: There’s a kid in the program named Brian Paz. He is already playing the bass and is quite gifted but he has no idea how gifted he is. We are in a school in the Bronx giving basic introductory lessons to a bunch of kids and this kid comes into our midst and already knows how to play, so how do we impact that kid? Well, for one thing he has very limited ideas on what it means to play Latin music, because he has that “cookie cutter” mentality,” which is how we are all taught. So we get him and we tell him to improvise and he says, “I can’t, I can’t improvise!” Brian is being challenged to do more, to improvise, and to create new bass patterns. He was thinking about going into music technology and I told him, “No bro, you are a bass player, you are an instrumentalist” and I promised to buy him an acoustic bass. You can rest assured that before we lose sight of Brian, we are going to present him with an acoustic bass. There is another kid name De Shawn Clark who is studying the drums. At the beginning of the semester, we have each student fill out a questionnaire. One of the questions is, “Why are you interested in this program?” He wrote, “I want to learn about music because it will teach me about life.” When I read that, I thought to myself, “Boy, if we are not making an impact, if we are not changing lives.” I don’t want to toot my own horn but I feel like the AFLJA is doing God’s work. We had another kid, a drummer named John who was cutting up in class and was on the way out. We switched him to the sax and man, he is playing, he’s quiet, he’s attentive, he’s interested, he is practicing, he is studying at home, and he has become a different person. I had a conference with him and I said, “We are all smiling because we are all so proud, we can’t believe that you are the same kid, you have become a serious little saxophonist. We are smiling because we are so proud of you.” Some of the academic teachers at the school come up to us and say, “I don’t know what you are doing with these kids but they are becoming better students.” I don’t mean to put other organizations down but the model is to come in, do a presentation and leave. Or, if they have residencies, they teach and leave. They are not committed to the idea that the work that we are doing is life changing. What we do is different because we are not there to impose our standards on the students. We don’t care what you play, we don’t care if you play Hip Hop, or Jazz, or Classical music, we just want you to be good musicians.

TP: Two artists who come to mind are Jerry and Andy Gonzalez. I have heard Andy speak about the impact of music education on numerous occasions. It’s worth noting that they were both playing professionally by the time they were in junior high school!

AO: I would be gratified to see these kids follow a path of music. In fact, this may sound crazy but some of the music that comes out of the Hip Hop, Rap and R & B worlds is really mediocre. I am happy to think that because of their proximity to professional musicians who work hard and practice, when they go out and create their own music it will be more sophisticated. Who knows of some of these kids will go on to become the next P. Diddy or Jay Z?

TP: Where does the funding come from?

AO: Some of the money comes from a generous grant from the Health and Human Services System (FEGS) but the school in the Bronx is completely funded by individual donors. We do not get any money from the Department of Education or the school. The program is completely dependent on the generosity of individuals. It is very important that people hear this as a clarion call to anyone who is willing to donate instruments or reeds. We also need a trumpet for a young musician in Cuba named Koli. Does anybody out there have a trumpet that they can donate to a child who is playing an instrument with a broken spit-valve and is held together with masking tape and rubber bands? Nobody is picking up the slack for these kids. By the way, you can “Google” Koli and watch the “Fathers and Sons” video on “You Tube.”

TP: Tell me about the Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra’s new recording, “40 Acres and a Burro” (Zoho Music). I get the distinct impression that there is more to the title than meets the eye.

AO: I love Wynton Marsalis and Jazz at Lincoln Center for giving us a platform and allowing us to become who we are today. I will forever be grateful to them and there is no rancor or bad feelings. When we left there was some hurt and admittedly, the conditions that we lived under were not optimal. I don’t fault Jazz at Lincoln Center for not treating us as a sister orchestra, even though we were. It wasn’t a malicious or thoughtless thing. It is just the culture of the institution. I think it was very generous of Wynton to invite us to be a part of his world. I have to credit the man for being a visionary. No one in the world from an institutional viewpoint was thinking, “I think this is different music, it deserves its own expertise. I think it deserves its own vehicle.” Economics being what they were, they had to streamline and when you streamline you have to do whatever it takes to survive. I probably would have done it differently but, again, every time I perform a concert I thank Wynton and Jazz at Lincoln Center, because without that cache we would not be able to do what we do now. So, the very last piece of music we ever played at Jazz at Lincoln Center was “40 Acres and a Burro” and it’s funny because Wynton was there and I made it a point to be very clear about the fact that, this is humor, this is satirical, it makes a point with love. We are leaving on good terms but we are being emancipated so to speak, because we are leaving the expensive glass building. The lesson behind “40 Acres and a Mule” is that you can’t pay for a man’s soul; you can’t value a man by giving him land and an animal, you could strip a man of his dignity, you could steal a man’s freedom, but you can never steal his freedom inside. The point of the emancipation was that they felt that they had to give a man a plot of land and a mule to work it. When we left Lincoln Center we were given our repertoire, our suits and a party, but they could never give us what we gave to them. The whole point of “40 Acres and a Burro” is, here’s the parody of the drunken Mexican, here’s the parody of Stravinsky meets Tito Puente and here’s the section of Latino white noise. The point of the white noise is, Latinos do everything, we blow your leaves, we cook your food, we take care of your children, we deliver your pizza, make your sushi, drive your gypsy cabs, but we are white noise because we are in the background. So, here’s your little minstrel show, we came, we kicked much ass, we showed you but we said it with tremendous love and respect. Wynton embraced me and thanked me and for leaving in a dignified manner and I hugged my brother and said, “Thank you for the opportunity, we will never forget it.” To this day, Wynton Marsalis is one of my heroes because he said to me, “What you have is different” and he shared his stage with me.

TP: Some time ago I saw Wynton perform with your father’s orchestra and I had the impression that he wasn’t quite comfortable with Latin music. More recently, I had the pleasure of seeing him perform with Chucho Valdés and he was totally in his element.

AO: Wynton is like me. Lord, make me uncomfortable, I want to be on unsure footing, I want to be challenged, I want to feel like I am always and every day, not comfortable, not retreading. It’s really important to me that every time I play the piano that it is a new experience. If I walk away from writing a piece and I don’t feel that I have done something new, I feel guilty! I feel like I have shucked and “jived” my responsibility.

TP: Returning to “40 Acres and a Burro,” what kind of a reception has the recording received thus far?

AO: I feel that this album, this Afro Cuban Big Band, is the beginning of an impression of a larger picture, of what jazz is. I read a review in “All About Jazz” and the writer said something at the end of the piece that bugged me. He said, “This is a beautiful album but it does a poor job of illustrating the point that Latin and jazz are not separate.” I really took exception with that because that is exactly what this album does, play pure unabashed jazz and 100% unabashed Latin and it melds them beautifully, and it does it from the perspective of Perú, Argentina, Puerto Rico, Cuba and Ireland. Now, I have to find a way to bring Japan into the fold (Laughs).

TP: Japan loves Latin music. When I was in the military I spent some time in Japan. The jazz scene, particularly in Tokyo, made a big impression on me.

AO: The message of “40 Acres and a Burro” is that jazz is a very big picture and we are all beginning to understand Latin America’s impact on jazz. Larry Blumenthal put it very nicely when he said, “Let the conversation begin.”

TP: It’s a deep topic and it’s about time, let the conversation begin.

AO: The orchestra traveled all over the world this year, we played in Japan, Taiwan and Indonesia and you are right, the East Asian people love Latin music.

TP: What are your plans for the immediate future?

AO: I am writing a piece called, “A Still Small Voice,” and it’s taken from a biblical reference that talks about conscience. It is taken from a piece of scripture where God speaks to Elijah in a still, small voiced deep within him. It’s about the conscience of listening to that voice inside of us that knows to do right. I draw on Buddhist texts, Hindu texts, Muslim texts. But here is the beautiful thing about it. It’s a piece for the Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra and a hundred and fifteen voice choir. It is going to be astonishing! We have the La Guardia Senior Chorus, from the La Guardia High School for the Performing Arts. It is one the best choruses I have ever heard in my life. The woman who directs the chorus, Janna Ballard, is a master. I don’t know how we are going to fit that many people on the stage but it is going to be amazing. I am employing all kinds of different techniques that I don’t think anyone has used in Afro-Latin Big Band music. We are using techniques from contemporary 20th century avant garde music. We are also looking forward to the next season, where we are going to pay a heavy tribute to bassist, Andy Gonzalez. We are going to include Jerry Gonzalez with Michel Blanco and the whole evening is going to be a tribute to Andy. I still think and feel that Andy is one of the heaviest musicians on the planet. He is one of those rare human beings whose feet are firmly planted on many streams of musical currents. In addition, we are going to have an evening with Claudia Acuña and Herman Olivera, our traditional “Musica Nueva” concert and a celebration of the Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra’s tenth anniversary.

TP: Congratulations, sounds exciting. I look forward to being there.

AO: I don’t even know how to thank you for taking such an interest in our lives, it means a lot to me.

TP: The pleasure is mine. I urge everyone who reads this to visit the Afro Latin Jazz Alliance’s website and consider making a tax-deductible donation.

www.afrolatinjazzalliance.org

Recommended Listening:

Arturo O’Farrill, Live in Brooklyn (Zoho Music, 2005)

Jazz at Lincoln Center’s Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra – Una Noche Involvidabe (Palmetto, 2005)

The Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra – Song for Chico (Zoho Music, 2008)

Interview #2 conducted October 2, 2010 by Tomas Peña (by telephone)

“Music was always the main communion between the members of my family, my friends and me. It also helped me find out who I am.”

TP: Congratulations on the release of Yaounde, your third recording as a leader.

ST: Thank you.

TP: Do you come from a musical family?

ST: My grandfather, Manuel Martinez was a trombone player. He came from a small town in southern Colombia near Ecuador. At the age of fourteen he escaped from the Ecuadorian army and he traveled throughout the Caribbean during the 1930s and 1940s. Before returning to Colombia he picked up a lot of musical influences. My grandmother was a self-taught musician and my uncle, Francisco Martinez, who is the father of (pianist, composer, arranger) Edy Martinez, played the saxophone.

TP: Tell me about Edy Martinez.

ST: Edy came to the United States as a teenager in the 1960’s and rose to fame in the New York City salsa scene in the early 1970s as a pianist and arranger for Ray Barretto’s conjunto. My uncle Juan followed him. He was a drummer and sideman with the Tito Rodriguez orchestra and Machito and his Afro Cubans among others.

My grandfather (Manuel) had a great collection of jazz and Afro-Cuban LP’s (records) that he picked up during his travels and because of Edy I have a collection of Ray Barretto and Fania (Records) recordings. When I was a kid I was fascinated by album covers. My favorite album cover was (and still is) Ray Barretto’s Indestructible.

TP: The cover depicts Ray unbuttoning his shirt and removing his Clark Kent-styled glasses to reveal a Superman costume underneath. Indestructible and The Other Road (1973) are two of my favorite albums of all time.

ST: Eventually I got around to playing the record and I fell in love with Ray’s music and his energy, he was my idol. When I finally met Ray I mentioned that one of my favorite recordings was Barretto Live: Tomorrow (Koch Records, 1976). Suffice it to say he did not feel that it was one of his best recordings.     

TP: I also idolized Ray and grew up listening to his music. It was Ray’s work as a sideman with guitarist, Wes Montgomery that sparked my interest in jazz.

ST: Through Ray’s music, which contained a lot of jazz elements I started listening to jazz, Cuban music, the Fania recordings and Latin jazz. Then in 1989 my cousin went to Cuba and returned with recordings by Irakere and Los Van Van. At the same time there was a big musical community in Bogotá and a nightclub called Salomé, where music lovers and collectors gathered. On Friday night after the bar closed, the serious music lovers would stay behind and listen to music until seven AM. That’s how I was exposed to music that was not considered mainstream in Colombia. After that I started studying music formally. I studied classical music by day and listened to Cuban music by night.

TP: The last time we spoke you mentioned a number of other recordings that were influential in your musical development.

ST: Actually, there were two: Tito Puente’s Cuban Carnaval (1956, RCA) and Santitos Colon’s De Mi Para Ti (1964). I listened to those albums over and over. I even listened to them while I slept.

TP: Today we call that “downloading.” What prompted you take up the drums?

ST: There was a popular commercial on TV for Cerveza Aguila in Bogotá that began with a simple conga pattern (mimics the patterns by mouth). Basically, I started out by copying the basic patterns. Then I graduated to cookie cans, a pair of old bongos, a pair of new bongos, an old conga drum and finally a new conga drum.

TP: Did you take formal lessons?

ST: Yes, I took about four lessons with a great conga player from Colombia named Luis Pacheco. He was the original conguero with Grupo Niche and Orquesta Guayacan.

TP: He taught you the basics.

ST: Yes. Also, when Cuban musicians performed in Colombia I went to see them and invariably we would talk about music and share new ideas. In 1993 my uncle Edy returned to Colombia and formed a band. Also around that time a lot of Cuban musicians moved to Colombia and I learned a lot from them.

TP: How old were you when you started playing semi-professionally?

ST: I was about fifteen years old.  

TP: You also studied composition. The following is a direct quote: “Since I began playing Latin percussion, I felt there was a pervading bad attitude about percussionists. People would laugh and say, ‘there are musicians and then there are conga players.’ One of the things that I wanted to do was to help change that incorrect impression. I believe that composition is one way to do that. Composition is a big tool to help one understand music. It enables you to express many feelings that it might be difficult to communicate otherwise.”

ST: When I told my professor that I wanted to be a professional conga player (percussionist) he asked me if I was willing to forego a career as a classical percussionist and I said “Yes.” Later the Dean of Music became involved and he offered me some very solid advice. He told me that I needed a major and suggested that I should study composition as a way of learning to make a difference and develop my own sound. He also taught me another interesting lesson. That is, in order to break the rules you have to learn them.

TP: What is his name?

ST: His name is Guillermo Gavinia. He eventually went on to become Colombia’s Minister of Culture.

TP: By all accounts you were very successful at an early age. In fact, by the time you were twenty-one you were already an established musician as well as a director and arranger for some of Colombia’s most highly regarded telenovelas (soap operas) and films. In spite of that you packed your bags and moved to the United States.

ST: I knew that someday I would come to the United States. The music that I fell in love with as a child (Salsa, Latin Jazz) was created in New York.

TP: Did your uncle Edy (Martinez) play a role in your decision to move to states?

ST: At the time he was living in New York and performing with Ray Barretto’s conjunto. I knew that coming to the states was something I had to do. With respect to my career in Colombia, I was working a lot, making lots of money and playing with some of the best musicians on Colombia’s music scene but I was only twenty-one, still young enough to start a new career. When my mother moved to Miami (1998) I sensed that life was telling me what to do. I followed her one year later.   

TP: Shortly after arriving in the U.S. your career took a dramatic turn when you were tapped by trumpet virtuoso Arturo Sandoval to join his group. You spent four years touring and recording with Arturo. Tell me about that period in your life and what you gained from the experience.

ST: Arturo taught me so much. Among other things he taught me about the Cuban element. The way Cubans speak, their expressions, the way they walk, the way they eat, the way they dance. You have to understand the culture in order to understand their music.

TP: In retrospect what was the most significant lesson that Arturo taught you?

ST: When I arrived in the U.S. I was very critical of myself, I was very self-conscious and I had a tendency to over intellectualize my playing. Arturo taught me how to loosen up, to be more spontaneous and to connect with the audience. I can still hear Arturo saying, “Stop worrying, you are a great musician, play from the heart and transmit that feeling to your audience.”

TP: Considering the source that is quite a compliment.  While you were with Arturo’s band you attracted the attention of Tito Puente, Paquito D’ Rivera, Chick Corea, Michael Brecker, Claudio Roditi, Richard Bona, Lila Downs and Shakira among others. As a result you participated in many recordings as a sideman. In 2006 you stepped out on your own and recorded Skin Tones, your first recording as a leader.

ST: While I was living in Miami I wrote a lot of music and worked at developing my sound but it wasn’t until I moved to New York (2002) that I found a voice for my compositions.

TP: How so?

ST: All of my idols live in New York! While I was in Miami I saw a lot of bands that gave me great ideas. Groups you don’t often see in New York and I started thinking about the kind of sound I wanted to create. When I arrived in New York I met vocalist Julia Dollison, whose voice is like an instrument. I collaborated with her and trumpeter Michael Rodriguez on a demo and started thinking about the possibility of creating a career and making a living with my music. Shortly thereafter, I recorded Skin Tones.

TP: You assembled an all-star cast for the recording: Bassist John Benitez, pianist Hector Martignon, harpist Edmar Castaneda, drummer Ernesto Simpson, trumpeter Michael Rodriguez, saxophonist Mike Campagna and vocalist Julia Dollison among others. How was the recording received?

ST: Very good!  From my perspective as a Colombian living in New York it was a very gratifying experience. Unlike other recordings where percussion is used to provide shades and colors, the drums are the centerpiece, everything revolves around the drums.

TP: And the reviews were excellent.

ST: I am grateful for the positive feedback and very happy with the way the recording turned out.

TP: Your association with African guitarist, Richard Bona and a recent trip to Africa (Cameroon) ushered in a new chapter in your life. Moreover it provided you with a new appreciation for the manner in which the music of your native Colombia evolved. Tell me about your trip to Africa and the connections between African and Colombian music.

ST: The first connection is geographical. Climate wise it is very similar to Colombia. Also, the music is very similar. The African influence is very strong in Latin America.

TP: In spite of that, the African influence is often denied in Latin America.

ST: It happens. In Colombia, after the slaves were freed they built their own cities (Palenque’s) on the Pacific coast and segregated themselves economically and socially. Similarly in Cameroon there are no roads. People get to where they want to go by boat or by plane. Interestingly over the last ten years it has become very fashionable to learn about Afro-Latino culture and Black music. The African influence is strong in Latin America and there is no denying that fact.  

TP: It’s gratifying to see a growing Afro-Latino movement throughout Latin America. While you were in Africa you discovered some intriguing similarities between the music of Colombia and Cameroon.

ST: Yes, the use of the marimba and the way the people dance. The music of the Pacific Coast region has indigenous influences, which makes it sound more Latin however rhythmically the music of Cameroon is quite complex.

TP: When you returned from West Africa you embarked on your second recording as a leader.

ST: Actually, I had no idea of what to call it!

TP: In the end you named the album after a song you composed, which is named after Cameroon’s capital city (Yaounde). Tell me about Yaounde.

ST: It’s Latin jazz with a Colombian groove, a New York vision and the spirit of West Africa. Ernesto (Simpson) and John (Benitez) lived in Colombia and they have a deep understanding of the music. And of course the rest of the band members are all superb musicians.

TP: Stylistically, it is more adventurous than anything you have done before. And once again you assembled an all-star cast of Puerto Rican, Cuban, Jewish, Colombian and South American musicians who are well versed in jazz and Latin music: Joel Frahm (tenor and soprano saxophones), Anat Cohen (clarinet), Michael Rodriguez (trumpet, flugelhorn), Manuel Valera (piano, Fender Rhodes, Nord keyboard), John Benitez provides (bass), Ernesto Simpson (drums) and Sofia Rei Koutsovitis (vocals).

How was the recording received?

ST: The reviews have been very good. More important the critics seem to understand the message I am trying to communicate.

TP: It must be very gratifying to know that the critics “get it.” What’s next on your agenda?

ST: I have a number of things coming up, the biggest is a cultural festival in Bogota (Colombia) in October (2010). It’s the world premiere of Concierto para 8 Congas Y Orquesta (Concert for 8 congas and orchestra) with the Bogota Philharmonic followed by a concert in Germany on December 15th.

TP: Good luck with the performance. Do you have any plans to record the event for posterity or perform the concierto in the states?

ST: At the moment there are no specific plans to do either. However, I am open to the idea.

TP: Before I close I should mention the fact that you placed second in Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition for Hand Percussion. Moreover, you produced the DVD, Drum Solos Revisited for Martin Cohen’s Latin Percussion, Inc., which features fifteen New York City percussionists showcasing beginner, intermediate and advanced solos on congas, bongos and timbales.

More important you have succeeded in dispelling the notion that “there are musicians and then there are conga players.” As one reviewer wrote you are a “fully developed musician in the true meaning of the word – an artist who passionately follows his intuitions, ever broadening his horizons while further honing his wide-ranging, world-class skills.”

ST: Thank you for your kind words.

TP: Thank you for taking the time to speak with me and much success with your upcoming concert in Bogota, Colombia.

ST: Thank you, Tomas.

For Additional Information on Samuel Torres visit www.samueltorres.com

From Buenos Aires to Nueva York

Interview conducted by Tomas Peña, October 2010

“If you really want to find a new and exciting saxophonist Figueras is a young musician ready to be discovered.” Doug Simpson, Audiophile Edition (October, 2010)

Introduction: Not long ago I received a promotional copy of the Black Butterflies debut recording in the mail. Intrigued by the striking cover-art, I downloaded the music onto my iPod and listened to the music on the way to and from work. Though I had never heard of the band, nor was I familiar with the artists, the music swept over me like a breath of fresh air. Shortly thereafter I contacted Mercedes Figueras via email and paid her my respects, which led to an exchange of emails and a meeting at a local “Starbuck’s” in Manhattan.

When Mercedes and I met in person the first thought that crossed my mind was, “How is such a small person capable of producing such a LARGE sound?” During the course of my conversation with Mercedes I received the answer to that and many other questions about her life and music. As a music journalist, it gives me great pleasure to lend my support to exceptional new artists who are “under the radar.” Meet Mercedes Figueras and the Black Butterflies, a fresh crop of artists who (I predict) you are going to be hearing a lot from in the years to come.

TP: You were born in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

MF: Yes.

TP: Are there any musicians in your family?

MF: No, my family is not musical, however, my brother and sister liked to sing. My sister took singing lessons.

TP: What prompted you to become a musician, more specifically a saxophonist?

MF: When I was about twelve I taught myself to play the guitar by ear. In the building where I lived there was a guy who played the piano and the saxophone. My sister used to go with his mother to take singing lessons. He didn’t know how to play the guitar, but he offered to teach me the piano or the saxophone. When I saw his saxophone I thought to myself, “Wow! That’s what I want to play!” He played the tenor, but he decided that I should play the alto because I was small and thin. When I asked my parents to buy me a saxophone my father predicted that I would give up in a month. Thankfully, my mother convinced him otherwise. After that I became very serious about learning the saxophone and I enrolled at the Berklee School of Music (Argentina).

TP: At the time how old were you?

MF: I was thirteen or fourteen years old. That’s where I met my mentor, Carlos Lastra, who asked me, “What do you want to learn?” I told him I wanted to improvise!

TP: Like a jazz artist, though I am assuming that you had little to no knowledge of jazz at the time.

MF: To me jazz was Frank Sinatra! Then Carlos gave me a copy of ‘The Very Best of John Coltrane’ and said, “Listen to this.” I listened to that recording so much that I can still sing (and remember) Coltrane’s solos, note for note.

TP: What attracted you to Coltrane’s music?

MF: Mainly his sound.

TP: One of the things that attracted me to the Black Butterflies is your sound. How did you develop such a distinctive sound?

MF: Carlos always told me that sound was the most important thing and I built my sound around that idea. When I perform, record or am in any kind of musical situation I just play myself. I play who I am, I don’t try to impress, I play my heart. In answer to your question, I don’t really know how my sound developed. Perhaps it is because I felt that I could not compete with the great musicians of the past, or even with many of the musicians of today, so the best way to go was for me to be myself. It is my art, my thing and some will like it more than others, but the fact is I am being true to myself.

TP: Getting back to your early years at the Berklee School of Music …

MF: When I started at the Berklee School of Music I listened to and analyzed a lot of jazz standards, however, I did not have a point of reference. I remember buying a Charlie Parker album and thinking to myself, “What do people see in this guy? He’s crazy!”

TP: Byrd was crazy. Crazy like a fox! Who else did you listen to?

MF: Miles Davis, Eric Dolphy, Jackie Mc Lean, Thelonious Monk, Bill Evans, Wayne Shorter, Joe Henderson, Dexter Gordon, Ornette Coleman, Charlie Parker and Charles Mingus among others, but Coltrane is my main influence.

TP: After you graduated from Berklee you enrolled at El Conservatorio Nacional (Buenos Aires) where you studied classical music for four years. Subsequently you made your way to New York.

MF: In 2007 I visited New York. That’s where I was lucky enough to meet and perform with Wynton Marsalis at a party in the Hamptons. It was a great experience. The same year I produced and recorded my first album, Elefante (Elephant) with drummer, Martin Visconti.

TP: Tell me about “Elefante.”

MF: The recording consists of eleven free improvisations, all recorded in one take. The arrangements depart from a particular rhythm or melodic line. Martin and I developed our sound by rehearsing three to four days per week for a couple of years and I decided to document what we were doing at that moment. Thankfully, we had a lot of help with the recording, mastering, CD design and website.

TP: How was the recording received?

MF: Pretty good, but free jazz is not the kind of music that everyone understands. You really have to be into that kind of music to appreciate it.

TP: Tell me about the creation of the Black Butterflies.

MF: The process was organic. I met drummer, Kenny Wollesen, through saxophonist, David Binney. Kenny and I lived in the same apartment building on the West Side of Manhattan. When Kenny learned that I was a musician we became friendly. I gave him a copy of “Elefante” and he invited me to perform with the marching band, the Himalayas.

TP: I read that the band is made up of some of New York’s finest musicians.

MF: Yes, it’s a very cool band and their songbook is filled with compositions by some of New York’s most brilliant musicians: Frisell, Zorn, Bernstein Apfelbaum, Wilson, Mottel, Wieselman, etc.

TP: You also performed with The Dramatics.

MF: Yes. Their music is Afrobeat (but not Fela). I performed with them for about a year and a half.

TP: There is a cool video of you performing with the Dramatics in the subway (see You Tube, Keyword: Mercedes Figueras). Where exactly did you perform?

MF: 42nd Street, Penn Station, Union Square … all over.

TP: Welcome to the “real” New York!

MF: I met saxophonist, Tony Larokko while playing with Martin (Visconti) in the subway. He saw us playing and he offered me a gig.

TP: Tell me about Tony.

MF: He has been everywhere. He teaches high school and has worked with (drummer, educator, acupuncturist, martial artist and shaman) Milford Graves.

TP: And the other band members?

MF: There is percussionists Fred Berryhill and Bopa “King” Carre; Nick Gianni, upright bass, he is a great musician, multi-instrumentalist (he plays saxes flute, piano); drummer Kenny Wollesen and keyboardist Levi Barcourt (keyboardist, Dan Tepfer appears on the recording).

TP: I am quoting directly from your press-release: “The Black Butterflies are individuals who come together from different cultural, ethnical and geological backgrounds, brought together by spirit to elevate the listener to a higher plain.”

MF: In the past music was communal. It was a healing source and it brought people together. Today it seems that the importance of music and culture has lost its value in our society. So that is also part of our message. When we perform we try to create a communal feeling, generate good vibes and get people together.

TP: In your experience, does the audience get it?

MF: I think so. The album has a little bit of everything, something for everyone. Depending on the listener’s mood or state of mind they can listen to a wide variety of music: Latin music, jazz, Latin American, African and Chinese rhythms, experimental music, chants.

As Professor Robert Farris Thompson wrote in his acknowledgements for the book: “Flash of the Spirit – African & Afro-American Art & Philosophy:” “One tree cannot make a forest.”

TP: Tell me about the making of “1 de Mayo.”

MF: Everything was recorded in one take. Actually, we did two takes of “1 de Mayo” but the first take made the final cut. The idea was to keep the music “fresh.”

TP: I like your interpretation of “Afro Blue.” One reviewer commented that the saxophones sounds strikingly similar to the exchange between Coltrane and Eric Dolphy. That’s quite a compliment.

MF: We performed that tune a lot with Tony and created a version that we liked and felt comfortable playing. Also, it is a tribute to John Coltrane. I love his version of Afro Blue.

TP: Another great track is the soulful “Pipi’s Blues.”

MF: When I composed “Pipi’s Blues” I was thinking about the recording as a whole. I knew that at some point in the story I had to include the blues. As I mentioned previously, I had the opportunity to meet Wynton Marsalis in the Hamptons. I gave him a copy of “Elefante” and he contacted me while I was in Argentina. When I came to New York I visited with him a couple of times. In between his writing (composing) and running back and forth to the piano we talked a lot. He gave me a lot of encouragement and I learned a lot from him by watching the way he moves. He is such a great musician, such a great person and he always repeated to me, “It’s all about the blues!”

TP: And “1 de Mayo?”

MF: This was the first tune I chose to record. It was written by Richard Marriot, a great friend and composer who I met while playing with the Himalayas. I chose the tune because it is a Tango and it reminded me a lot of home. Also, I have a lot of admiration for Richard as a composer and artist. Also, I just happened to get married on the 1st of May, so when the time came to pick a name for the recording I chose “1 de Mayo.” Actually, the title has a lot of meanings, not just for me but also for the listener. The title can be interpreted in many ways, however, the listener can interpret it any they choose and create their own story.

TP: Conceptually “Yah Yah” goes even further. The track begins with whistles and a wide range of percussion then segues into African chants, vocals and scorching saxophones. Although you recorded the album in a studio, it feels like a live recording.

MF: The first time Tony invited me to a gig we performed this tune and I found it so interesting. At one point everyone was chanting and we each took a (vocal) solo. When my turn came I was very nervous, however, I jumped in and sang the chorus of a Bolivian Huayno followed by the Tango “Volver.” I never imagined that I was capable of doing that but in the end it sounded great. Wynton had a hand in this, as he insisted that I sing for him. At first I refused but eventually I gave in and sang a Tango. Afterwards, he told me I had a nice voice and in the process I actually discovered that I could sing. Tony liked the fact that my singing added a feminine part (to the composition) so it all worked out perfectly.

TP: The recording closes with “Music Heals all Wounds.”

MF: I wrote it with a gospel feel in mind. Also, I thought that the story should end with a ballad.

TP: What is the band’s message?

MF: The purpose of the album is to have the listeners accept it as their own, imagine what they want to imagine and go wherever they want to go. That’s what I do when I listen to my favorite albums and depending on the mood I am in or how I am feeling at the time, it always feels different.

TP: Tell me about your relationship with Gato Barbieri.

MF: Gato is a friend. I am very good friends with his wife (Laura) and son. One of the reasons I came to New York was because Laura invited me to participate in a documentary about Gato’s life, which I did. It was an honor.

TP: What is your take on the current New York jazz scene?

MF: I think the jazz scene in New York is happening. If you really want to accomplish something the possibilities are there. I would really love to play at places like “Small’s,” the “Jazz Gallery” and the “Blue Note” but it is hard to get gigs if you don’t have a big name. I am focusing my efforts on bookings, jazz festivals and teaching opportunities.

TP: What’s in the future for the Black Butterflies?

MF: We recently performed at “Nublu” (New York) and “Dreams” (Rosedale, New York) and we are looking forward to performing at other venues. Right now I am focusing on getting gigs at jazz festivals and colleges. In terms of future recordings, I really don’t know what’s next. We want to keep introducing new music. When the day comes, depending on how we feel and the story we want to tell, it will happen. I don’t like to think things out in advance. I prefer to go where life takes me. Sometimes unexpected factors intervene and take you in an entirely different direction.

TP: As John Lennon said, “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.” Given the enthusiastic reviews and the buzz surrounding the recording, I have no doubt that we are going to be hearing a lot from you in the future.

For Additional Information on Mercedes Figueras and the Black Butterflies visit www.theblackbutterflies.com

The Dream of a Comeback for Cuba’s Big Success

Story submitted by Heidrun Haug

Irakere was Cuba’s invention to enable the Cuban scene to compete with the international rock music development. The innovative band became a great success and won a Grammy in the 70s. The Cuban state cut the success tour when it forced the group to cancel their concerts in the US in favour of local events. The founders Chucho Valdés, Cuba’s most famous pianist until today, and Oscar Valdés, percussionist and singer, are two of Cuba’s many great music stars. After the breakup of Irakere, Oscar Valdés went on by himself and founded Diákara, a group of eight musicians with an Afrocuban, partly traditional religious repertory which plays every Thursday at the Havana’s Jazz Café on the Malecon. Roberto Santamaria, conga legend Mongo’s nephew, asked Oscar about his musical career – and his dreams for Irakere.

Oscar, you were born into a family of musicians. Did this determine your own way as a musician?

I grew up with my mother who was divorced from my father. My interest in percussion awoke when I listened to an old drummer who not only played the Batá but also manufactured them by hand. He taught me about the fundamental touch of that traditional drum. When I was 17, I went to see my father who played in an orchestra in Habana. During the intermission I went up to the drums and started to play. You can imagine my father’s surprise. Also once I got the chance to step in for a player who was sick. The orchestra director appreciated my rhythm knowledge and called me many times after that.

What pushed your career?

My way of playing straight forward and my creativity. I learned to play different percussion instruments and all types of Cuban rhythm. For example, in a Rumba dance show I had to play the complete set of bongos and timbales with great improvisation and a variety of creativity. I worked in different bands and shows. In the 50s, I was a very busy musician.

Can you tell us the story behind Irakere?

With the Cuban revolution triumph, cultural developments like Rock and Jazz were inhibited, which was a wrong development. But in the beginning of the 70s, the government recognized that the best way to attract young people was to create an orchestra with “música moderna”. Many young musicians like Paquito de Rivera at the saxophone, Carlos Emilio at the guitar, Carlos del Puerto at the bass, Chucho Valdés at the keyboard met with famous old ones like Guillermo Barreto and worked together under the direction of Antonio Maria Romeu. He was the conductor of the big orchestra and he knew a lot about jazz. These are the musicians who later formed Irakere.

This kind of music was new for Cuba. What did musicians from other countries think about it?

First we performed in Canada during a very important music exhibition. When other musicians from all over the world heard us, they complimented us strongly. In 1972, the orchestra was out to the boom. Many of us were unhappy and we felt that the band should better be apart. One of those days we met at my mother’s house and we planned to talk with the authority of the Minister of Culture. That was the day when we founded Irakere. The band gave a new spin and big development to Cuban music. Especially to the fusion of mixing traditional elements of our root music like Yoruba, Abakua and Arara with jazz, rock and funk – all the new waves of universal modern music. Irakere became a big footprint and influence in our music. We got a lot of international premiums and awards including the Grammy.

Can you explain the roots of Cuban drums and percussion and its influence on Cuban music?

The list of groups of elements of percussion in Cuba is very long. We are deeply influenced by African culture, especially from Congo and Nigeria. From the north of Nigeria came the Yoruba people, who brought their culture and music with its religion called La Regla de Ocha. In Cuba, that religion is called Santaria. They use three batá drums to play the music of its gods. The big drum is called Iyá, the middle sized one is called Ytoteles and the small one Okonkolo. The culture of Congo also brought drums which are employed in its religion – here called Palo Monte. Another group is called Carabalies who has a secret society of warriors called Abakua. All these elements have been integrated into Cuban music and mixed with Western elements. Among the actual Afrocuban instruments of percussion we can see them as bongos, bells, congas, timbales, maracas, cajones, clave, güiro and chékere.

You are also a priest of Yoruba, lucumi. How do you consider the influence of religion on Cuban music?

In Irakere we mixed this religious music with contemporary styles like Rock, Soul, also Symphonic. In the beginning, this fusion was difficult for me because I felt it was a violation to the religion. Many times I changed the words out of respect for our saint religion. Once Mercedita Valdés, one of the most recognized singers of this religious music, approached me about the subject. We both agreed that it was especially important to remain authentic. So, I studied the fundaments very seriously and tried to maintain the tradition. We created a masterpiece dedicated to the reflection of the historical King Chaka, who was a big hero against colonialisation in Africa. We used the real elements and combined these with Jazz and Symphonic. You can hear it in the piece “Misa Negra” included in the album we recorded during our tour in 1979 through the USA. This album got the Grammy for this kind of music. I kept working with this fusion to obtain the sound and tradition of our roots.

Many musicians of the new generation want to play in the Northern American way and forget their origin. I believe that the fusion with the Afrocuban roots makes our music more attractive because this makes it unique and not just a copy.

There were some rhythm innovations, too.

“Bacalao con pan” was very revolutionary, because we incorporated a polyrhythmic way of touch of Batá drums. Also I used a bell, held a stick in one hand and played five congas with the other one. The rhythm was called timba.

Many aged Rock stars are back on stage nowadays. Would you like Irakere to make a comeback?

I am happy with the work we accomplished. It was widely recognized and applauded in the world for everyone to see. To be honest, quite often, when I talk about it I get very emotional. It is like a son I have raised. And I expected to grow old with that band. If there would be a chance to come back I would quite happily do it. I felt great then – as a person and a musician. We were not just a band, we actually were a family.

Interview by: Thomas Peña

"First came the transition from trombonist to flutist. Then came the transition to Latin jazz. For Mark Weinstein, a confluence of worlds has become modus operandi." Woodrow Wilkins, All About Jazz (www.allaboutjazz.com).

TP: Congratulations on yet another splendid recording. By all accounts "Timbasa" has been well received.

MW: Yes, it has.

TP: How did the recording come about?

MW: When I made "Algo Mas" I knew that I was "locked" into a folkloric thing, so I asked (drummer/educator) Bobby Sanabria to recommend a drummer and he suggested that I contact Pedrito Martinez. When I decided to move into more mainstream Latin Jazz I combined Pedrito with (pianist) Mark Levine, (bassist) Santi DeBriano and (drummer) Mauricio Herrera.

TP: On "Con Alma" …

MW: Right. The reason I am focusing on Pedrito is that "Timbasa" is as much his project as it is mine. He co-produced the recording and set things up in response to a funny challenge. I ran into him somewhere and he asked me when we were going to collaborate on another project. Sort of goofing on him I said, "Find me a piano player and a bass player who are as good as you and bring a couple of drummers." I had no idea what he was going to deal me! The thing about Pedrito is that he is in a class all by himself. He has the "chops" but his "head" is enormous!

TP: What did Pedrito "deal you?"

MW: Well, I went into the studio with a lot of confidence in Pedrito but not much else. The only thing I was sure of was that the he was bringing in Cuban musicians who are steeped in jazz. I asked Pedrito to bring some material and I thumbed through the book that I use when I do gigs, which represents the history of Latin Jazz. I had all the old war horses (tunes), "Watermelon Man," "Caravan" and "Milestones," which thanks to Larry Harlow, is the first Latin jazz tune I ever played! I played with Larry as a sideman (trombonist) in the Catskills. At the time he had a quintet and he realized right away that "Milestones" was a natural with a Latin beat. As a goof I also included a tune that I wrote for my infamous "Cuban Roots" album titled "Just Another Guajira."

Pedrito brought drummers, Mauricio Herrera and Ogduardo Diaz. Then there was this kid, a wild man with his hair sticking up in a million different directions, running around the studio. When he and I first met I was in the recording booth and I had all of my flutes on a stand. I remember being concerned that he was going to knock them down, so I said to him, "Hey man, be careful with the flutes!" and he replied, "I might be hyper, but I am a musician." Then he went into the piano booth and started playing some serious Chopin!

TP: What is his name?

MW: Axel Oscar Lougart. He’s 23 or 24 years old and he represents a generation of conservatory trained Cuban musicians who have spent the same amount of time studying classical music, jazz and folkloric music. This is the phenomenon of the Cuban education system that we are getting as they use the U.S. as their launching pad.

Speaking of another Cuban phenomenon, I am in the midst of making a recording with pianist, Aruan Ortiz, which is another funny story. Aruan sent out an e mail blast seeking work and his resume was a who‘s who of prestigious conservatories. I called him up and spoke to him about a Charanga album that I had originally intended for pianist, Omar Sosa. Aruan jumped at the chance and immediately composed four danzones and a bolero, two of which are modern, yet reminiscent of the music of Arcaño y Sus Maravillas and Israel "Cachao" Lopez. Aruan is another example of the amazing young musicians who are coming out of Cuba.

But I digress. There was another guy in the studio standing quietly in a corner who turned out to be bassist Panagiotis Andreou, who happens to be Greek. As I was watching the musicians interact, I noticed something that I haven’t seen since trombonist, Barry Rogers was on the scene. The high degree of respect that he commanded from the Cuban musicians. The thing about Panagiotis is that he is a trained classical guitar player and plays a six string bass that goes down to the notes that only whales can hear. When he plays fast his fingers barely move. He plays with such comfort and the way he lays in the tumbao … It’s like Pedrito and all those young Cuban cats. They have so much confidence in each other that nobody has to lay things out. Everybody can play with whatever subtlety and nuance they choose.

TP: Given Barry’s legacy, that’s saying a lot. How did things go in the studio?

MW: We recorded and worked out all of the arrangements in the studio, with the exception of the complicated drum breaks, which Pedrito sang to the drummers. There are a couple of amazing things about the way the musicians played and interacted with one another. The most obvious being the complex percussion breaks. If you listen to the tune, "Timbasa," you will notice that the Clave is being played on the high hat while the drums are playing the break, but there is also a clave popping in and out! What Pedrito is doing on the clave and in between the clave is so perfect that it’s amazing.

TP: Given the generation gap between you and the other members of the band, did you feel out of your element?

MW: Performing with these guys was like running with the bulls in Pamplona! I had to play very fast in order to stay out of their way, but no matter what I chose to do, they were right there with me. It’s such a blessing to play with such great musicians.

TP: "Timbasa" has received very favorable reviews and a significant amount of airplay.

MW: I recently had a conversation with pianist, Mark Levine about his album, "Off and On – The Music of Moacir Santos." When I asked him how his recording was doing he said, "Great reviews, great radio play, no sales!" I wrote him back and said, "Hey man, sounds like you are talking about my record!" The recording is holding steadily and everybody who responded to me personally has said very positive things. Perhaps one of the highest praises I received was from (percussionist) Bobby Matos, who said it was "Fresh." Not bad for a 70 year old musician!

(For more on Mark Levine, visit: http://www.marklevine.com/recordings.html)

TP: Not bad at all!

MW: There is no standard for me in my playing other than the absolute highest.

TP: One of the things that I have always admired you is the fact that you are absolutely fearless.

MW: My intention is to play the best music that I can possibly play. I have confidence in the fact that I can go into any rhythmic situation and feel comfortable. That’s something I learned from playing with Eddie Palmieri‘s band. It was the most swinging band in the world and I had to know where the ONE was at all times. Sometimes I would get lost, but I would always find my way back – not by counting – but by dancing! Because at the end of the day it’s dance music. That’s my attitude toward the music of the African Diaspora. I just want sit on top of that rhythm and play free.

TP: For those readers who may not be aware of your "other life" you were a trombonist and a member of the original La Perfecta, the hippest and most swinging Latin band to ever grace a stage.

You already mentioned a few of your future projects. Is there anything else that you are working on that we should know about?

MW: I recently ran into Jochen Becker, the President of Zoho Records and he said to me, "If you want to get nominated for a Grammy you need to do a Tango album. I have just the guy for you." The "guy" turned out to be none other than (bassist) Pablo Aslan. So I called Pablo and he agreed to write five tangos for me. After listening to the material, I thought to myself, wow, this is really interesting stuff but does it really need a flute player? I did the five tangos and tried to figure out, what goes with Tango? The answer I came up with was, (Cuban) danzones. After doing half an album of danzones I realized the Tangos and the danzones are beautiful, however, I am not so sure how well they work acoustically, or as part of an album. In the meantime, Aruan has been pushing me to finish the Charanga album. So I said, OK, but we have to do something contrasting, like Guaracha or Charanga, New York style … fast! … I want to cook! At which point Aruan asks me if I was familiar with the tune, "El Cumbanchero?" (Laughs). As it turns out, "El Cumbanchero" is the working title of the album, which is almost finished. I am still trying to decide what to do with the five Tangos. They are very traditional, which is a problem because I play "free" over very traditional material.

TP No doubt you will figure it out. Uncharted waters are your cup of tea.

MW: That’s true, but I didn’t have the comfort and familiarity with Argentinean music. Anyway, I think for the other five tunes I might want to put together a quartet and get together with some Argentinean jazzers. Also, I want to do another straight-ahead jazz album, because at the end of the day I am a jazz musician. I have always felt entitled to play anybody else’s music the way I saw fit, however, I always did it with complete respect for the music. That is what I have to offer as a jazz musician. I don’t play traditional music, I play jazz with traditional music. Now I can add the traditional music of modern Cuba to my repertoire (Laughs).

TP: You have always been ahead of the curve; you put your money where your mouth is and your passion for the music has never wavered. Moreover, your body of work as a trombonist, flutist and leader is impressive. That’s a legacy to be proud of.

MW: I want a legacy. I want to make a contribution. I want people to know that Mark Weinstein tried to play music.

TP: You have certainly succeeded in doing that. And let’s not forget the countless upstarts you have collaborated with and inspired along the way.

MW: I almost 70 years old and I feel like I am at the top of my game.

TP: Once again, congratulations. Please give my best regards to your co-conspirators and Randy Klein of Jazzheads Records. I look forward to seeing the band perform in a live setting.

MW: Thank you Tomas, I appreciate your support.

VISIT MARK WEINSTEIN’S OFFICIAL WEBSITE: http://jazzfluteweinstein.com/

Interview conducted by: Raul da Gama

My palms are wet, but I am not nervous—just uncontrollably excited to be talking with Claudio Roditi, an iconic figure in music. With Brasilian guitarist, Ricardo Silveira and percussionist Duduka da Fonseca, another Brasilian and long-time resident of the Big Apple, Roditi is a seminal figure in the pursuit of a rare idiom in music. Some call it Samba Jazz. If that was meant to conjure images similar to Latin Jazz it certainly goes a long way in to putting the sound into a rather straight jacketed perspective. What would be more appropriate should have been a term like Afro-Cuban music. That term has color and suggests a whole palette of sounds. Musica Brasileira- Jazz somehow does it better. It suggests a complete setting; the feelings and emotions of saudade and alegria that are at the heart of and course through the music called choro and disappear under the surface of the broad palette of sounds—not just rhythms—but sounds and silence of both urban and pastoral Brasil.

This really is what Claudio Roditi brought to the idiom of jazz, melded it in, blending the shuffle of samba with the swagger of swing, pouring in molten emotion from a heart and soul filled with music. It is what I saw when I went back to one of my favourite images of the musician. This appears on the film version of Dizzy Gillespie’s United Nations Orchestra, one of the last great big bands to grace our planet. This is the fabled performance of Dizzy’s great band at the Royal Festival Hall, London on June, 10, 1989. There are many occasions to gasp in wonder. One sticks in my memory: Dizzy kicks off the set with a rousing version of “Tin Tin Deo” and it is time for the formidable trumpet section to get into the act. The section comprises its leader, the great Dizzy himself, Arturo Sandoval, playing both trumpet and piccolo trumpet and Roditi. The next track is D’Rivera’s “Seresta” and Paquito holds court. His solo is timed for last, after Diz’s wild romp all over the horn, the voice cracking with characteristic Dizzyness and after Sandoval’s pyrotechnics on his trumpet. Roditi returned to solo on “A Night in Tunisia.” Here he captures not only the romance and magical mystery of the North African destination, but also its complex rhythms. It is easy for him. He is Brasilian, of course. Roditi also features prominently in the triangular conversation at the end of the song.

As his turn arrives, Roditi stands, closes his eyes and breathes softly as he sets a blue flame to the embouchure, that blows out gingerly but with spectacular loops and pirouettes. The musical whorl unfolds with the sensational cold fire that Claudio Roditi has been known for. He shuffles the notes, weaving in and out of phrases and lines that suggest a Brasilian twist to the song. The track is Paquito D’Rivera’s “Samba for Carmen” and soon Roditi is in a three-way conversation with Paquito, Slide Hampton, who joins in and himself. Just when the musicians are getting comfortable with that bag, he switches almost unnoticed into a wide, swinging mode, soaring as if chasing one note after the other that escapes the bell of his horn, flying high and mighty. Through all this his eyes are shut as if he were in a gently swinging trance. He might have been. The music more than suggests it—that Musica Brasileira- jazz, picked up with swelling polyrhythm by the other Brasilian in the band, percussionist, Airto, who shuffles his gongs, pandeiro, and rubs his cubical. But Claudio Roditi’s eyes remain closed. Saudade, e paz e alegria…

This is what I hear in Claudio Roditi’s voice… peace, longing and joy. Nothing has changed since then. I expect that nothing will as I dial the number given me for his home in New Jersey. The phone rings and a soft male voice says “Hello…” as if singing a song.

“Claudio..?” I ask… “Yeah,” he answers, and now it’s his turn… “Raul? Contente encontrá-lo…” he continues. I ask to continue in English, always embarrassed by my watered down, Anglo Portuguese accent. He agrees.

I feel I know his music better than I know him when I call, so my aim is to get to know him. What made him come to the United States and stay for so long? Most Brasilians do not. Their longing for Brasil is too much to keep them away from that country for too long. Their connection is umbilical and that chord is never cut. Something else is mystifying. I have just heard his new album and it is one full of his songs. I believe that he is a marvellous composer. He just does not know that. Either this or perhaps he does not think so himself. I want to know more about this and as it relates to his album, Simpatico I hope that we’ll talk about that too. And of course I will ask about Brazilliance x 4. That is an album that gets regular airplay at my house. The groove is hypnotic and exhilarating.

I can hardly wait. I jump right in. “Well, Claudio, let me begin by asking you when you came to the United States and how did you decide to come here?” I ask.

His answer is somewhat oblique, like the way he attacks a solo—inside out: “It was sometime in the mid-60’s… I had always loved to play jazz and there were very few people who were playing it in those days. Remember these were the heady days of Bossa Nova…. I mean don’t get me wrong. I love Bossa… I was playing that too, but…” his voice trails off for a bit as if he is nostalgic…

“But I was crazy about jazz… I heard Dizzy Gillespie, Miles, Clifford Brown, Lee Morgan—a particular favourite of mine—in fact they say I remind them of him…” he adds. “Who is ‘they’? “I ask…

“Critics… writers…” he says with a short laugh. I am just glad that I did not suggest anything like this. Of course, I also believe that while his approach may be like Clifford Brown, or even Fats Navarro, a sliding type of attack…legato and even slurred, as well as more deeply intoned notes, unlike the dazzling, sharp brightness of, say Dizzy, even Miles…

I let that go… perhaps I will bring it up later… and wait for him to continue.

“As I was saying,” he continues, when I stop pontificating, “In 1966, I took a trip to Austria to attend a jazz camp and I ended up staying there for a year. This trip was one of the most meaningful for me. I got to play with some fine guys there. There were no restrictions… I was in heaven… I was playing trumpet there and then I met Art Farmer, a great guy and a great horn player. He was playing the much softer, flugelhorn and I loved the sound. It was then, with Art’s encouragement that I took up the flugelhorn.

“Art was a great guy. He showed me many things and we enjoyed some fine times together. I think that if not for Art I may never have played the flugelhorn, or it would have taken a lot longer for me to discover this instrument…

“Anyway… as I was saying, I loved the Austrian experience. I was able to get away from Brasil… not that I was desperate to, but I was always hoping that I would be able to get a more world experience. I also knew that once I went to Europe I would somehow have a greater chance of getting to America… I don’t know why I thought that, but I certainly felt more confident that I would go the America and be able to realize my dream of playing the music of jazz…”

I am curious. Can this be coming from a Brasilian? I ask him, “But what about Brasil?”

He probably could see that coming and he was ready. “Listen,” he said, I am Brasilian. I will never stop being Brasilian and the culture will always lie there. You will always hear me sounding Brasilian underneath it all. I cannot help that… It is deeply etched in me… It comes from deep within, and I don’t even know about it. But as far as jazz is concerned, my love for this music is enormous. It feeds me in a different way… Also, I did want to ‘make it’ here…”

And so you did, irmaõ, I say to myself, so you did… And how!

“Then I came to America,” he says, as if that were the most natural thing to do. “…That was in 1970… And I set up shop here. It took me awhile but there were Brasilians here and they were helpful. I got into the Berklee School of music… A couple of years there and I had the opportunity to dwell upon the style of Clifford Brown and Lee Morgan there… Maybe that is why everyone talks about it…

“I made connections and these were all over the place and in six years (1976) I moved permanently to New York. One of my best early memories of my time in New York was hanging out at the Village Gate… I remember also Ray Barretto—and I remember him very fondly—in fact I played with him at the Village Gate. There is a recording somewhere…” he adds, as if these details are too much to remember… His voice trails off…

“You know,” he says suddenly, as if remembering something too important not to bring it up immediately and making a jump-cut in his own biopic in the bargain, “I have a unique career… You talked about my Brasilian-ness… well; I must be the only Brasilian musician to play with almost every kind of musician… You know what I am saying?

“I have played with Tito Puente, Mario Bauza in his big band… I have played with Jose Rodriguez in Brasil. I have played in salsa bands and in hard-core Afro-Cuban ensembles—too many to name here—including those deeply dedicated to Yemaya… And I have also played with Art Farmer…”

“And Dizzy Gillespie,” I remind him. “Yes, Dizzy too… You know what, it is crazy these days. Even now people who do not really know me… But when they recognize me they say to me, ‘Hey! Aren’t you the guy who played with Dizzy Gillespie?

“Two weeks ago, I was in Pittsburgh with Roger Humphries (the drummer, who played with Horace Silver on his quintessential Blue Note album, Song for My Father in 1964) and his brother Gregory and this young Latino trumpeter comes up to me and says just that… How I laughed… To think that I am still remembered from that band…”

I too find that quite amazing. Claudio Roditi has moved so far from there, even though he still plays in that Big Band, which gets together sometimes to play Dizzy’s repertoire. But Roditi has such a singular style. In fact he was recognized twice for it very publically. The first time was in 1995, for his solo work, Symphonic Bossa Nova with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and Ettore Stratta, which was nominated for a Grammy that year. The second came in 2009 when Brazilliance x4 (Resonance Records, 2009) was nominated again. In this music, which is far from the mainstream pop and hip-hop music, to be nominated is recognition enough. The rest is politics.

George Klabin’s record label offers a new musical home for Claudio Roditi. Klabin is a great patron. You can tell, when Roditi speaks of him so fondly—as if Klabin knows exactly why. But here Roditi is going and always seems to be there, waiting for him. It is on the tip of my tongue to get to the second reason that I am talking with Claudio Roditi—Simpatico. But he beats me to it. He explains the difference between the two.

“Brazilliance is different for me, for two reasons. First, you know, of course, that it is a ‘live’ record. We were playing this gig at Rising Jazz Stars, in Beverley Hills and Klabin went over the tapes sometime after that and realized that we had something there, so he brought us in to the studio to fill it out. I took Duduka (da Fonseca), pianist Helio Alves, and bassist Leonardo Cioglia into the studio and recorded other tracks. In the end, we settled on what you hear on the album, but essentially it came about because of that gig.

“But Simpatico was totally different. I wanted to do an album of just my songs—songs I had composed myself… George Klabin likes the idea of ‘Roditi, The Composer…’ It is kind of flattering to me. I have never thought of myself as a composer, but I too got caught up in the excitement. I had composed one song with Ricardo Silveira, my great friend the guitarist, when we played together in 1980; I think it was, when we were playing with Herbie Mann. I have written some charts over the years, but never thought of doing an album of my own compositions. I am funny in this way… When I write more, I play less… and when I play more, I write less or nothing at all… You know what I mean?”

Of course I do… But to hear him say it somehow is a startling admission. I wonder then if he suppresses his urges to compose, especially when the ideas start to come fast and furious at times.

“Oh I write those down, but to sit and work at a piece and polish it takes time and it is difficult to refuse a gig or some other assignment… And you know how things are at this time, eh?” He seems to read my mind. I think that we are on sacred ground now, so I do not probe or pursue something that he adheres to with such cold logic. So I approach his second Resonance Records release…

Simpatico has a softer ring to it than his previous production, Brazilliance x4. The title is an evocative one. Roditi is listening to his inner voice here. And he is giving in to its desires and its notions. It is a voice with secret chords and changes that speaks to the soul. To listen is to hear treat the matters of the heart with sympathy and let unbridled desire flow. This perhaps is how the music first happens. Then the hard work of polishing the songs begins. With Claudio Roditi it did not matter… he has had all the time in the world.

Part of the polished nature of the album is the players Roditi has surrounded himself with. Pianist Helio Alves and percussion colorist, Duduka da Fonseca are regular band mates. Both musicians, like Roditi, are Brasilian, but long time residents of the United States, as comfortable in the jazz idiom as they are creating oceans of sound in Musica Brasileira, the idiom that Roditi helped shape. They also understand perfectly how to get involved in the musical tapestry that Roditi weaves softly around him and are virtuoso players in their own right. To add another damper to the mix, Roditi hosts Michael Dease, a young trombonist who plays brilliantly throughout, adding a touch of class in his contrapuntal playing and reading of Roditi’s playing. Romero Lubambo has long been fancied as an inheritor of the majestic spot left vacant by Laurindo Almeida. A guitarist with a deft touch and very expressive intonation and dynamic, Lubambo brings an air of grace to complement the pianism of Helio Alves. John Lee, occupying the bass chair, in place of Leonardo Cioglia, is an old friend and band mate from Dizzy’s United Nations Orchestra. Roditi had played with Luizão Maia, another electric bassist from Brasil, years earlier and somehow, Lee fits the slot quite well, as Maia would have, had he been there for the asking. Roditi and Lee develop a wonderful understanding throughout and the bassist solos on “Slow Fire” using a tremolo that feels like a con arco stretch.

Roditi’s compositions reveal a startling warmth about the composer’s nature. In a sense this is reminiscent of Jobim and Johnny Alf, the latter happens to be a particular favourite of Roditi. Alf never got the recognition he deserved and was writing music in the Bossa Nova mode long before it became standard to call it so. But being a self-effacing musician, he continues to live and write in relative anonymity in Brasil. Roditi champions his cause yet again with an elegiac ballad, “Alfitude” honouring his long time friend. The song has a find inside-out melody that twists and winds in a downward spiral with Roditi and Dease playing counterpoint in the first chorus, before Roditi stretches, squeezing out notes that speak of the silent admiration he has for Alf and the anguish at his being ignored before Dease returns to solo with compassionate grace, followed by a beautiful break by Alves.

On “Piccolo Blues” Roditi plays the little trumpet with such dexterity, making it appear so easy to play. In reality it is notoriously difficult to play. Nevertheless, Roditi shows his mastery of it with a fiery opening theme that plays homage to the blues idiom as well. An old friend, Kuno Schmid, orchestrates “Slow Fire” and Roditi is back on familiar ground, playing behind and ahead of strings again as he did on his first Grammy nominated album, Symphonic Bossa Nova. Roditi’s playing burns with a bright blue flame here as does John Lee’s.

“How Intensitive” is an oblique Bossa Nova tribute to Jobim and even features a sly quote from Jobim’s own, “How Insensitive.” There is unmistakable romantic side to Claudio Roditi and this manifests itself in his elegiac charts, all ballads in honour of his wife of many years, “A Dream for Kristen.” Then there is the homage to his parents, “Alberto and Daisy” a blues for a friend, “Blues for Ronni” and a magical tribute to a friend’s daughter, “Waltz for Joana.” This last song features a vocal by Roditi that shows him to be a singer with perfect pitch on this deceptively simple melody. It bodes well for more vocal work in future as Roditi joins the ranks of Chet Baker as a master of the ballad, singing unlike Baker in a husky and captivating tenor with warmth and regal splendour.

I ask Roditi how easy it was to make this album. “Not very,” he answers, “But I was made comfortable by George Klabin’s confidence and support,” he adds. “I was also happy to be back in the studio with Helio, Duduka, Romero, John and Michael. And Kuno is fantastic when he gets going. George and he have a tremendous rapport.

“So in the end it became a very rewarding project. I suppose I had to get it out of my system… composing I mean,” he says with a bright laugh. Would he do it again? Somehow I want to hear him say, “In a heartbeat.” But Claudio Roditi being Claudio Roditi he says with a barely perceptible shrug, “I don’t really know… I want to play so I guess that means no composing for a awhile.” How about gathering some older charts and reworking them for a big band, or doing them in symphonic form, I ask. “Who knows,” he says sounding as if he is considering the prospect. And there is that commitment to play Musica Brasileira-Jazz… Like the rest of his fans around the world and in Brasil, I can only wait with bated breath.

Claudio Roditi on the web: www.facebook.com/claudioroditi

Interview conducted by: Raul da Gama

Interview conducted by: Tomas Peña

Speaking with someone you have idolized for years is never an easy task. So it was with some trepidation that I dialed Poncho Sanchez’s telephone number and held my breath. When he answered the telephone we exchanged pleasantries and he quickly informed that he could only give me 15 minutes of his time. Somewhat disappointed, I pressed on and lo and behold, an hour and a half later we were still on the telephone! In my career as a music journalist I have interviewed over 100 artists in the worlds of jazz and Latin music. Read on as Poncho speaks candidly about his life, career, music and the artists he has worked with during his long and illustrious career. Particularly interesting are his insights on the lives and careers of Cal Tjader and Willie Bobo. Suffice it to say, Poncho ranks high on my list of favorite interviewee’s.

Tomas Peña: Hola Poncho! It’s an honor and a pleasure to speak with you. I have been a fan of your music for more years than I care to mention.

Poncho Sanchez: Thank you. I have been making music for a long, long time! (Laughs)

TP: You grew up in Norwalk, a suburb of Los Angeles during the 1950s. At the time Cuban music was rarely heard and recordings were difficult to come by, yet somehow your sisters got swept up in the Mambo craze. How did that happen?

PS: My family moved from Laredo, Texas to Norwalk in 1954. There were eleven of us, five brother and six sisters. My sisters used to listen to the radio a lot. They were big fans of DJ Chico Sesma, who had a one hour show on KOWL in Santa Monica. Chico was a trombone player, radio show host, and the promoter who organized the Latin dances at the Hollywood Palladium. He booked Tito Puente, Machito and Tito Rodriguez from New York, Cal Tjader from the West Coast and a lot of other big names.

(Interviewer’s notes: From 1949 to 1957, Lionel Sesma, better known as Chico Sesma featured an innovative, bilingual broadcast on KWOL in Santa Monica, California).

TP: So Chico was the culprit! Whatever became of him?

PS: Radio show host Jose Rizo and I paid Chico a visit about three years ago. I think he is about 80 years old now. He’s moving a little slow but he perked right up during our visit. During lunch Chico pulled out about 300 professional black & white photos that were taken at the Hollywood Palladium during the 1950s and 60s. When Jose and I saw the photos we flipped! At one point Chico handed them to me and asked me to look for my sisters. So there we were, going through the photos and looking for my sisters in the crowd. It was really great to hang with Chico.

TP: As I understand it there is a connection between Chico Sesma and the tune “Con Sabor Latino.”

PS: “Con Sabor Latino” was Chico‘s theme song. The tune, which dates back to 1961 or 1962 was composed by pianist Rene Touzet. It hasn’t been touched since then.

(Interviewer’s notes: “Con Sabor Latino” appears on Rene Touzet’s recording, titled “Too Much – Mr. Cha Cha Cha – Rene Touzet” on Capitol Records).

PS: It was through Chico’s show that my sister’s first heard the Mambo and the Pachanga.

TP: The Pachanga took New York by storm during the late 50s and early 60s.

PS: Over here too. My sisters used to dance the Pachanga every night. During that time they didn’t call Latin music “Salsa.” It was called Mambo, Cha Cha, etc. It wasn’t until later that the word “Salsa” became popular.

TP: If you think about it, what are the odds that a group of Chicana’s would become enamored with Cuban music and it would have such a tremendous impact on you?

PS: Pretty slim. We are Mexican American. Chicanos from Texas. We are not Cuban or Puerto Rican. When I grew up Acid Rock and groups like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix and Cream were popular. Personally, I didn’t care much for rock music. My preference was rhythm and blues and black music. I listened to rock because my friends liked it but when they visited my garage, which is where we hung out, I played Horace Silver, Joe Cuba and Tito Rodriguez. My friends used to say, “Hey man that’s old people’s music, take that shit off!”

TP: Obviously you were ahead of your time.

PS: Many of them are still my best friends and that’s exactly what they tell me.

TP: Was there something, or someone that influenced you to start playing the drums?

PS: I started playing the congas in my garage.

TP: And you have never taken a formal lesson?

PS: No, I have never taken a formal lesson.

TP: You came up the old fashioned way. Playing with records, jamming on street corners, parks and rumbas.

PS: Ramon Banda and I used to hang out a lot and someone told us that the best drummers jammed at Griffith Park in Santa Monica on Sunday afternoons. So we went on a Sunday and saw a bunch of “Americanos” sitting underneath a big oak tree drinking, smoking pot and playing some weird stuff. We jammed with them for awhile and got tired of it. Then someone told us that the best drummers played at the top of a hill so we went there and there were a bunch of Cubans and Puerto Ricans chanting and playing rumba. When I asked if I could sit in they said “No!” Then one of the guys asked me if I was Cuban or Puerto Rican. When I told him I was a Chicano the first thing that came out of his mouth was, “You can’t play!” Ramon and I stood under the hot sun watching them play for about an hour, then the guy who was playing the quinto (lead drum) jumped up … I think he went to get a beer or something … and I took the opportunity to jump behind the drum and started playing (imitates the sound of the lead drum with his voice). Anyway, they let me sit in for about five or ten minutes. Finally one of them said, “Oye suena bien!” (Hey, you sound good). Then he asked me if my mother was Puerto Rican or my father was Cuban! They just couldn’t accept the fact that a Mexican-American could play the drums.

TP: I have been to quite a few rumbas in my day. One of the things that I have observed is that there is a strict hierarchy amongst Rumberos. They take their drumming very seriously and don’t appreciate “outsiders.” What happened after that?

PS: After about three years I started playing with local bands in my area. At the time none of the local bands were playing Salsa. Eventually I hooked up with a band called “Sabor,” who played mostly Top 40 stuff – music by Chicago, Blood, Sweat & Tears and Chicago. In addition to playing the congas I was also singing. Eventually I started bringing in tunes by Mongo Santamaria, Ray Barretto and Joe Bataan. Tunes like “Para Puerto Rico Voy,“ “I Wish You Love,” “Come Candela” and “Besame Mama.”

TP: When did you play with “Sabor?”

PS: Let’s see, I started playing with Cal Tjader in 1975, so it must have been around 1972. What happened is I was playing with a local band, going to Griffith Park on Sundays and playing with “Sabor.” We were playing at the International Press Club and this guy walked in who stuck out like a sore thumb. Between sets I walked over to the bar to get a beer and he shook my hand and said, “Hey man, you sound really good. “ Then he offered to buy me a drink and told me that he was a personal friend of Cal Tjader and I thought to myself, “Yeah right, this guy is full of shit.” As I was leaving I said to the guy, his name is Ernie, he is still alive today, “Don’t forget to tell your friend Cal Tjader about me.” When I went back to the bandstand I said to the guys, “See that guy over there? He’s a personal friend of  Cal Tjader” and they all laughed. Two weeks later Cal Tjader came to town and played at Howard Rumsey’s Concerts by the Sea. I used to go there to see everybody that came into town – Mongo, Willie Bobo, Ray Barretto. When we got there I was walking down the stairs and that very same guy was talking to Cal Tjader. When he saw me he said, “Hey Cal, there he is, Poncho Sanchez” and he introduced me to Cal. So Cal says, “My good friend Ernie tells me that you are a good conga player, would you like to sit in with my band?”

TP: You must have been a nervous wreck. Do you remember the name of the tune?

PS: I think it was “Manteca.” When I got on stage Cal asked me to lay out during the breaks and come in with the rhythm section. So the band started up and I came in on the breaks and took a solo and the crowd reacted. Later Cal said, “Man, you sound great, how did you know the breaks? We haven’t recorded that tune yet.” I told him that I had seen his band play six months earlier and that I remembered the breaks. He was amazed by the fact that I remembered everything after seeing him perform once. Anyway, Cal let me sit in for the rest of the set and afterwards he asked me for my name and phone number and told me that he might be able to use me the next time he comes to L.A. Afterwards, I had a few drinks to celebrate the occasion and calm down.

Two weeks later Cal called me and asked me to play with his band for five nights at the Coconut Grove at the Ambassador Hotel, opposite Carmen Mc Rae. So New Years Eve came and we get there and I am lugging my congas through the lobby like an idiot. I wore my best shirt and my best slacks (Laughs). After the first set, Cal gave me big hug and said, “You know man, you sound great, the gig is yours.” At first I thought he was talking about playing with him every once in awhile but then he said, “No man, the gig is yours.” Meaning, he wanted me to be a permanent member of his band. At the time I was working at an aluminum foundry during the day. To make matters worse I had just been laid off and my unemployment was about to run out. So Cal asked me, “Is $300.00 a week okay?” and I said, “300 bucks a week?” I was lucky if I made $150.00 a week and that was working forty long hours. From that day I was with Cal’s band for 7 ½ years. I toured the world with him, made 14 recordings, won a Grammy for “La Onda Va Bien” and I was with him in Manila when he died of a heart attack 27 years ago.

TP: You were there when Cal passed away?

PS: I was in the same room.

TP: His death must have come as a terrible shock to you.

PS: Cal Tjader was my musical father. Most people don’t know that Cal had a previous heart attack one year earlier. After that he laid us for six months. When he was well enough he returned to the music scene and went on tour. Cal wanted to go to the Philippines (Manila) more than any of us because he was a medic in the Navy during World War 2. He told me that he wanted to go back to visit a particular beach where a battle had taken place. Interestingly enough, Cal Tjader’s wife and daughter rarely traveled with us, but thank God they decided to join us on this trip.

The minute we got to Manila Cal told his wife that he wanted to go to a beach where they have a statue of General Douglas Mac Arthur. He and his wife went there and when he arrived he cried like a baby. We hung out that night at the hotel and his wife told me that Cal got very little sleep and was very nervous. The next day Cal was examined by a woman doctor who was President Ferdinand Marcos’s personal physician. She examined him for five minutes and had him admitted. As I was pushing Cal through the lobby on the way to the hospital he was cracking jokes. He was saying stuff like, “I would rather be playing “Guachi Guara” than be in this wheel chair.” He hated “Guachi Guara” because he was tired of playing it. When we arrived at the hospital he had yet another heart attack. The doctors were able to revive him briefly but eventually he went into a coma. The next day, which was Cinco de Mayo, he had a series of heart attacks and died. He was 56 years old.

TP: I understand that you went into a deep depression after he died.

PS: Yeah man, that was a long, sad trip. I was crying all the way home from Manila. I went into a deep depression for about two years. What pulled me out of it was the fact that Cal got me a contract with Concord Picante, which was a branch of Concord Jazz. The first album we recorded on the Concord label was “La Onda Va Bien,” which won a Grammy in 1980. About 8 months after Cal died I recorded “Sonando.” Since that time I have made 24 recordings with Concord Picante.

TP: That’s quite an accomplishment. It’s not often that an artist stays with a record label for that length of time. Unfortunately many of the artists that recorded for Concord Picante (Cal, Mongo, Tito Puente) are no longer with us, which puts the onus of keeping Latin Jazz alive squarely on your shoulders.

PS: Many people call me the “Keeper of the Flame.” I honestly never dreamed that I would be that.

TP: I can only think of a handful of musicians who are doing what you do at such a consistently high level.

PS: And I am going to keep doin’ it until I can’t do it no more! I grew up listening to jazz, Latin jazz and authentic salsa, rumba and black music. It’s what I love.

TP: Speaking of black music, I was in New Mexico a few years ago, where I saw an exhibit titled “The African Presence in Mexico – From Yanga to the Present.” The exhibit focused on the little known history of enslaved Africans brought to Mexico in the 1500s and their contributions to Mexican culture. I wonder if you have seen the exhibit? And if so, would you consider incorporating Afro-Mexican rhythms into your music?

PS: I haven’t seen the exhibit but I know that black (African) music is a big part of the music in Venezuela, Brazil and many other Latin American countries. That’s a subject that I am definitely going to look into.

TP: Conversely, soul comes in all shapes and sizes.

PS: Look at Cal, he was a Swedish blue-eyed baby. Not only was he a vibe player, but before that he was a jazz drummer, and before that he was a tap dancer. Cal’s family was a vaudeville family and he and his brother and sisters were tap dancer’s. One day I was playing a gig and Buddy Ebsen (AKA Jed Clampett from the TV show, The Beverly Hill Billie’s) walked into the club and waved to Cal and I thought to myself, “What the hell is this?” Long story short he and Cal were friends. Buddy walked over to Cal and said, “Hey man, let’s do our old routine” and they started tap dancing in the back room. They tapped danced for a couple of minutes and laughed and had a few drinks. Cal was kind of rusty by then but you could tell that he knew how to tap dance.

TP: It has been said that Cal never hit a bad note.

PS: Cal had a lot of soul.

TP: Before we close, I wanted to ask you about Willie Bobo. I know that you knew one another, however I was wondering if you ever made any recordings together?

PS: Actually Willie appears on the Cal Tjader album, “Huracan.” After that I performed with Willie’s group on three separate occasions. Willie and I also recorded “Tribute to Cal Tjader” together.

TP: Willie was yet another great musician who left us all too soon.

PS: I was playing at a little club called “The Baked Potato” with (pianist) “Claire Fischer and Salsa Picante.” Willie came by one night to see us play and he had a big patch behind his ear. When I asked him about it he told me that he had just come from the doctor and had a malignant cyst removed. You know what? He died 6 months later. The last time I saw Willie was when me and a bunch of other musicians got together to raise money for his medical expenses. He was in a wheel chair and didn’t want anyone to see him in that condition so he came to the back door of the venue and asked me to thank everyone for what they were doing. Then he got into a van and drove off. That was the last time I saw him.

TP: “Psychedelic Blues” was inspired by Willie, correct?

PS: Correct. For the recording we brought in Andrew Synowiec, a young, local guitar player here in Los Angeles. I gave him a bunch of my CD’s so that he could start getting the idea of what the Willie Bobo sound and the music was all about. He listened to them and one month later we went into the studio and recorded. All for Willie Bobo man.

TP: On “Psychedelic Blues” you return to your Latin Jazz roots and pay tribute to Willie Bobo, Herbie Hancock, Horace Silver, Rene Touzet, Freddie Hubbard, John Hicks and others. How did you choose the material for this recording?

PS: The Vice President of Concord Records and my musical director’s David Torres and Francisco Torres and I got together. One of the reasons I am still with Concord is because they ask me, “Poncho, what would you like to do next?”

TP: I don’t know of too many record companies that do that!

PS: (Laughs) The Vice President of Concord Picante came to my house and suggested that I go back to my roots, my Latin Jazz stuff. He asked if we would record “Cantaloupe Island” and suggested that we include more songs like that. Basically, I went through my collection of CD’s, records and films and selected some of my favorite tunes – “Silver’s Serenade,” “Slowly But Surely,” “Crisis” and others. With respect to the tune, “Con Sabor Latino” nobody has recorded that except Rene Touzet and me. I like to draw from my childhood and listen to the music I grew up with. Stuff that Machito, Mongo, Tito Rodriguez, Joe Cuba and Cal Tjader did. We also write our own material but we always pay tribute to the masters.

TP: The album has been well received. It was on “Jazz Week’s” top ten list for weeks. What’s next for Poncho Sanchez?

PS: A couple of things that I am thinking about for my next project. We have been doing symphonies. Right before Tito Puente passed he called me and was all excited about the idea of our bands working together (on the same stage) with a symphony orchestra.

TP: Wow! That would have been amazing!

PS: He suggested that I get symphony charts of my music. It was a little expensive but now I have 8 or 9 charts. Thanks to Tito, my band has been performing with symphony orchestras for about five years.

TP: What kind of material do you perform?

PS: “Insight,” “Oyelo,” “Shiny Stockings,” “Afro Cuban Fantasy,” “Watermelon Man,” “Batiri Cha Cha” and “Cosas del Alma.” Someday I hope to film and record our band in performance with a symphony orchestra.

TP: Tito’s last concert (in Puerto Rico) was with a symphony orchestra.

PS: I haven’t seen that. Another thing I hope to do … I recently performed with bassist Christian Mc Bride in a jazz setting and it was a great experience. Afterwards, I told my manager that I want to make a recording with a jazz trio.

TP: I look forward to seeing those projects come to fruition. Poncho, thanks for speaking with me and more importantly, thank you for being part of the soundtrack of my life. As I said at the beginning of this interview, I have been listening to your music for more years than I care to mention.

PS: It was a pleasure speaking with you Tomas. It’s good to speak with someone who knows what’s up!

TP: Gracias!

Poncho Sanchez on the web: www.ponchosanchez.com