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From Afro-Cuban Rhythms to Latin Jazz

2008; Duke University Press; Volume: 88; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1215/00182168-2007-157

1527-1900

Frances R. Aparicio,

Latin American and Latino Studies

While the first half of this book briefly examines the historical trajectories of the Cuban son, the pan-Caribbean nature of salsa music, and what the author calls the “aesthetics of sabor,” the second section focuses on the local circumstances of music making in the lives of bassist Israel “Cachao” López; drummers Armando Peraza, Carlos “Patato” Valdés, Mongo Santamaría, Francisco Aguabella, and Cándido Camero; trumpet player Alfredo “Chocolate” Armenteros; and singer Celia Cruz. The author documents the numerous travels, encounters, and audiences that have characterized the long, fruitful lives of these important figures in the music world of the Caribbean, and foregrounds the ways in which they mainstreamed the local roots of their music making. While Fernández states that globalization in music is not a recent phenomenon — “the current fixation on globalization is nothing new to musicians” (p. 57) — he does not engage in a meaningful discussion of globalization as an economic and corporate-driven process that leads to social inequalities. Rather, Fernández insists that these musicians, who have not been musical celebrities (except for Celia Cruz) but rather “journeymen musicians” who have lived in obscurity, have been always on the economic margins precisely because of the lack of prestige and support given to popular music as a profession (pp. 44, 54). In this sense, despite the international impact of their performances, these Cuban musicians have not benefited from globalization. However, the summary of the histories of these figures is a significant intervention in the larger field of American and Latin American history, for as Fernández clearly argues in the book, Latin jazz, salsa, and Afro-Cuban rhythms have for years remained outside the canon of U.S. musical history. This book, then, is an important project of recovery.One of the major tensions in the study of Latino popular music has been between the strong nationalist values accorded to musical practices in Latin America and the Caribbean, and the transnational, border-crossing practices of sounds, dances, and lyrics, a process that still needs to be identified in the diachronic evolutions of musical forms, despite recent theorizing. In “Worksong of the Caribbean” the author argues that Caribbean popular music has historically been the result of inter-island encounters, influences, and hybridizations. He offers us clear examples in the influence of the Haitian cinquillo rhythm in Cuban and Puerto Rican music, in the presence of Jamaican sounds in eastern Cuba and of the Cuban son in Colombian music, and others. Fernández concludes that Caribbean popular musics all share these nomadic routes, given the labor migrations, political exiles, and displacements in the history of the region. In his discussion and historical summary of the development of the Cuban son, Fernández clearly illustrates the ways in which the son circulated within various regions of Cuba and absorbed diverse musical elements from other Cuban musical forms, in addition to the impact it had in New York during the early years of salsa music. While Fernández is clearly familiar with these border crossings and specific historical instances of musical hybridizations, I missed fuller discussions of the implications or consequences of these encounters. For instance, when he discusses Celia Cruz’s travel to Mexico and her collaborations with Toña la Negra (p. 148), some additional comments on the impact of this moment on the future history of Mexico’s engagement with música tropical and with its own self-silenced Africanness would have been illuminating. And for all of the ways in which the author initially reminds readers of the migratory, nomadic nature of Caribbean music — that is, of its pan-Caribbean flows, uses, and influences — the remainder of the book focuses exclusively on the Cuban son and on Cuban musicians.Some of the strengths of From Afro-Cuban Rhythms to Latin Jazz include the seemingly small, yet informative details: the example of how the popular melody of “Oye como va,” popularized by Tito Puente and Santana, was based on Cachao’s melody for the danzón entitled “Chanchullo” (p. 74). Fernández also offers his readers a most interesting summary of the development of salsa music and its foundational relationship to the Cuban son, stating that it was the salsa craze that led to a renewed interest and curiosity for the complexities of the Cuban son (p. 23), a comment that inverts the dominant, Cuba-centric notion that salsa’s foundation is only and exclusively the Cuban son. The chapter dedicated to “the aesthetics of sabor” addresses what has been a central concept for Caribbean musicians in terms of evaluating their performances. Fernández concludes that sabor is defined by its openness to hybridization, that is, to the mixing of musical forms with both traditional subtexts as well as contemporary forms (p. 57).For academics, amateurs, and a general reading public interested in Afro-Cuban popular music, this is essential reading. The author’s erudition about this musical canon and its impact on the Caribbean, the United States, and international stages is clearly convincing. My only disappointment is that its descriptive history excluded references or dialogue with the existing bibliography on Cuban and Caribbean popular music.