This entry is not going to be an attempt at bashing the authenticity of "Buena Vista Social Club," the landmark record of 1997 that brought Cuban music (back) into American pop culture for the first time since the Cuban Revolution. On the contrary, I simply want to provide a relatively detailed listening analysis of the album, the musical trademarks of Cuban Son music, and the various musicians featured on the recording. However, I do want to mention a few things before getting going.
The question of authenticity, in my mind, is both one of the most fascinating and meaningless subjects in the world
of ethnomusicology today. In today's 'flattened' and globalized world (thank you, Thomas Friedman), where do we draw the lines between culture - and especially music - that is indigenous to a particular region of the world, culture that is 'altered'
to produce a marketable product for consumers in a different locale, and falsified information or complete exoticization of cultural practices? To put it simply (or, as the case may be, not so simply), these 'lines' are excruciatingly vague. Take the recently released album, "Eternal" (which, incidentally, I plan on picking up ASAP and writing about), a collaboration between "traditional" Tuvan throat-singing quartet Huun-Huur-Tu and California-based electronic musician/producer Carmen Rizzo - where and how c
an we place this in the greater scope of world music 'authenticity.' Clearly, it sounds nothing like what you would hear inside a 19th century Tuvan yurt.
Personally, I believe that modern musical 'authenticity' is irrelevant because the vast majority of musicians in any corner of the modern world have been exposed to a plethora of different genres. Thus, there is some level of crossover influence in any music made today. Of course, many modern musicians still try to incorporate (whether subconsciously or not) all sorts of traditional styles, forms, and elements. I'm sure "Eternal" features throat-singing styles that you would indeed have heard in an old yurt and at a time when virtually no 'outsiders' visited Tuva. The final product may be nothing like what you would have heard, but it certainly incorporates traditional bits and pieces.
I am interested in blogging about these bits and pieces, but I am also interested in examining music that has been influenced by the modern world. Sometimes, untangling the 'traditional' or 'authentic' elements from a modern recording can be difficult, but ultimately the most interesting task.
A look at "Buena Vista Social Club" inevitably involves similar tasks. In the mid 1990s, American guitarist Ry Cooder - who has made a career in re-interpreting a variety of 'roots' musics - aimed to bring Cuban Son music to America by recording an album inspired by (and along with some musicians from) Havana's Buena Vista Social Club, a membership-based dance and music club that peaked before the Cuban Revolution. The club 'closed' during the revolution; per the wiki-entry, "Shortly after the Cuban Revolution of 1959, new Cuban President Manuel Urrutia Lleo, a devout Christian, began a program of closing or nationalizing all gambling outlets, nightclubs, and other establishments associated with Havana's hedonistic lifestyle...Private festivities were limited to weekend parties and organizers' funds were confiscated. The measures meant the closure of the Buena Vista Social Club. Although the Cuban government continued to support traditional music after the revolution, favor was given to the politically charged nueva trova [genre]."
Clearly, the 1997 recording of the same name is not the same music one would have heard stumbling into a Buena Vista Social Club event in the mid-1940s. The political landscape - and the availability of Cuban music in America - has changed drastically, and genres such as Son, Salsa, Mambo, and Afro-Cuban jazz have all influenced each other. Ry Cooder - and collaborator/Cuban bandleader Juan de Marcos Gonzalez - wanted to create an album that closely resembles 'traditional' Son and the music of the original Buena Vista Social Club. While that task is virtually impossible now, I applaud their fervent efforts, and my non-educated-in-Cuban-music self wants to believe that they were relatively successful. The late Eugene Godfried, a renowned scholar and Cuban radio journalist who was a firsthand witness of the reshaping of Cuban music during the revolution - wrote a fascinating article on Buena Vista and Cuban Son as part of the Cuban identity. In it, he explains his experiences promoting Nueva Trova at the request of the Cuban Ministry of Culture, his account of musical attitudes changing with the post-revolution generation, and his pride and happiness in modern popularization of Cuban Son - in part a result of the "initiative to mobilize longstanding musicians to participate in the [new] Buena Vista Social Club project." He goes on to express his opinion on the project: "Buena Vista Social Club is a rising star in the broad cultural heavens and is a serious warning to all those who have tried to push this people's manifestation, the Cuban Son, into oblivion. All those musicians, composers, and bands who were either in or on their way to the graveyard in Cuba ought to be brought back to the scene, [as] they have an art to display to younger generations of musicians and music lovers."
British musicologist Richard Middleton takes a more holistic analytical approach in Voicing the Popular: On the Subjects of Popular Music, large chunks of which are available online at Google Books. He describes the recording as follows:
"...a music originating (in style, in much of the repertoire) from the old Cuba (a lost territory, from before the Revolution); recorded towards the [end] of Castro's reign, under conditions of U.S. blockade (including the baleful glare of a militantly right-wing exile community a few miles across the water in Florida); but recorded through the intervention of celebrated American roots musician and 'animator of world music,' Ry Cooder; and shot to success through the imperial mechanisms of the global system (first world record label, Gra
mmy award, sell-out concerts around the world, Wim Wenders's documentary film, etc.). In a sense the music is pre- and post-Cold War at the same time, but also - stemming from Cuba - comes from its aging heart, marking a place that stands as one of the few remaining 'blots' troubling the otherwise triumphant neoliberal world system. Yet the elderly musicians who were catapulted to fame owed this to the circuits of that very system, and on that level the Buena Vista brand - manifested in nostalgic visual images and musical grooves that circulated, so it seemed at one time, around every bourgeois living-room, every trendy cafe and bar in the world - functioned like any other." (Middleton 245-246)
All that being said, I want to provide an analysis of the music alone, regardless of how much of it is or is not 'traditional' Cuban Son. As a personal aside, this recording is among my favorites. However, this blog is not meant to diminish (or even necessarily promote) any particular approach to creating art. Instead, this is simply an ethnomusicological examination of the soundscapes put forth on the recording. Hence, a track-by-track look:
Chan Chan
'Chan Chan' is, according to the liner notes, played in a slow country style of Son. The music here undoubtedly shows it, with a slow yet danceable groove based on both acoustic and electric guitars, vocals, and light auxiliary percussion (highlighted by Alberto Valdes' maracas). Cooder's electric slide guitars help ornament an acoustic ostinato - played by Cuban guitarist Eliades Ochoa, who also provides the lead vocals. Ochoa manages to throw in some sexy solo riffs, adding extra flavor to the groove. Per the liner notes, the lyrics present a lovers folktale about a Cuban peasant. Also worth noting is that the piece actually speeds up slightly over the course of its four-plus minutes. It's difficult to hear with one listen unless you rewind it at the end.
De Camino a La Vereda
This piece, composed and sung by then-70-year-old Ibrahim Ferrer, is based around another light guitar groove - this time acoustic only - in addition to Cooder playing a subtle pattern on the mbira (a 'thumb piano' made of wood and originating in Africa, pictured here). The maracas alternate between one quarter note and two eighth notes, so the groove is felt as '1 2-and 3 4-and' etc.. The form of the piece is relatively straightforward to follow, with the chorus repeated often by backing singers - translated as 'Listen Friend, don't stray from the path' and, according to the liner notes, including religious overtones - and often including a call-and-response kind of trading with Manuel Mirabal's muted
trumpeting. Between choruses, Ferrer sings many verses/stanzas. There are also two bridge-like stanzas towards the end of the song which include a beautifully harmonized duet between Ferrer's tenor and a baritone. During these, the guitar pattern lightens slightly, with the primary guitar melody cutting out - I'm not exactly sure of the definition of a 'montuno' in Son music, but this guitar pattern (and many patterns throughout this recording) act similarly to syncopated montuno in latin jazz.
El Cuarto de Tula
This is another piece featuring Eliades Ochoa; this time, he sings and plays a much faster chord progression on his acoustic guitar. The opening features a catchy trumpet-and-guitar melody that, in this tune, seems more thematic than any of the lyrics. There are a number of different lyric stanzas - alternating between a larger group of vocalists and vocal soloists - in addition to miniature trumpet solos/fills. There is also a solo played by Barbarito Torres on the laoud, which the liner describes as "a small, twelve string instrument similar to a lute." To the American ear (namely my own), this sounds almost exactly like an acoustic guitar. More generally speaking, the percussion in this tune is much more prominent (perhaps in part because of the increased tempo), including timbales (Cuban single-headed drums with metal frames, similar to but much shallower than tom-toms) played by Julienne Oviedo Sanchez - described in the liner as a "13 year old phenomenon." A brief outro at the end of the piece features a short laoud riff, one line of ensemble a capella, and a long hold by all of the instrumentalists.
Pueblo Nuevo
There is a beautiful picture in the liner notes next to the description of this piece: pianist Ruben Gonzalez sits at his 88-key instrument with a beaming smile, alongside Ibrahim Ferrer playing a conga. This pretty much sums up the piece, as those two instruments provide the backbone for the en
tire six minutes. More or less, the instrumental piece is a long piano solo - Gonzalez, who recor
ded it at age 77 and at a time when he did not own a piano - spends the opening half
of the piece brushing over a beautiful progression like a painter. His soloing often departs from the slow tempo and incorporates long, melismatic segments between seventh chords. This is all laid atop a simp
le bass pattern and some subtle percussion, from Ferrer on the conga and Ry Cooder's son, Joachim, on the udu drum (a Nigerian drum made essentially out of a clay jug with a hole, pictured here). About one third into the piece, Ry Cooder and Gonzalez give a brief glimpse
of a danceable, montuno-like motif that is later (at about 4:25) revisited to provide a background for trumpet and bass solos. More generally speaking, the piece is described in the liner notes as being a "danzon," an old kind of Cuban dance and ancestor of the mambo. In the final seconds of the piece, Gonzalez alters his chords for a brief outro, along with a short trumpet melody to add a final touch.
Dos Gardenias
This piece, according to the liner notes, is considered a bolero, which according to the wiki-entry, means "slow-tempo latin music associated with dance and song." The entry goes on to point out that Cuban boleros did not originate from the 3/4 Spanish boleros. This piece certainly is not in 3/4. Instead, it features a slow 4/4 groove sustained by a '1 2-and 3 4' ostinato on the maracas. While Mirabel's muted trumpet plays a significant role throughout (including an impressive solo halfway through) - along with Cooder's electric slide guitar and Gonzalez's piano - the primary instrument in this piece is Ferrer's singing. Here, he serenades to a lover regarding the importance of the two gardenias he is giving to her. At the beginning of the third and final stanza, a short rest among instrumentalists highlights his building emotions a few measures prior to his highest pitch of the performance.
Y Tu Que Has Hecho?
Another bolero, this piece begins with a short guitar duet by Cooder and Compay Segundo, described in the liner notes as an "89 year old giant of Cuban music." As claves and maracas begin to provide a subtle percussive backbone for the guitars, the two guitarists accompany each other on voice as well. Segundo's baritone voice - as the liner also mentions - matches that of the tune's composer (Eusebio Delfin, who died in the 60s). A guitar solo highlights the middle section of the tune, followed by another verse, this time accompanied by muted trumpet towards the end. Finally, the short piece closes with the initial guitar melody revisited. Topping off the last seconds is a gorgeous piano glissando.
Veinte Anos
Yet another slow bolero, this piece is played at a near identical tempo to Pueblo Nuevo. It features four lyrical stanzas sung by Omara Portuondo (the sole female musician on the record) and Segundo. The lyrics lament of a broken relationship from twenty years ago, so the coed duet is quite appropriate. Between each lyric stanza is a brief guitar interlude, again performed by Segundo and Ry Cooder together. The final stanza has a slightly different chord progression, and the last line of the piece - translated as 'heartlessly a part of the soul is torn away' -
El Carretero
This piece - described in the liner notes as a guajira or "Cuban 'blues'" - features Ochoa once again on the guitar and vocals, along with unusual backing vocals from Ferrer and Juan de Marcos Gonzalez, Cuban bandleader who plays
guiro (pictured here) on the tune. The unusual backing vocals
include shouts and whistles. Ry Cooder's electric slide guitar adds to the interesting array of sounds. Also unusual about this piece is that it never breaks from an alternating chord progre
ssion; A minor and E major teeter like a see-saw throughout the piece (ultimately in the A minor key). A brief outro does add one more chord, although it almost feels like a chore - making a trip to the grocery store for milk just before closing.
Candela
Appropriately, this uptempo piece ends in A minor, right where El Carretero left us. It is based around a speedy Cuban Son, which the liner notes point is here combined with tumbao, a common rhythmic pattern (with many variations) combining elements of bass and percussion. Often, as it does here, it accents the upbeat of the second beat and downbeat of the third beat, depending of course on how you want to break down the meter. Ferrer's vocals mostly weave around the fifth of the key (E), which becomes a kind-of theme in the piece, perhaps representing the candela (fire) in the lyrics and rhythm...? The backing vocals underneath Ferrer's Es are also prominent, repeating 'Ay candela' and 'Me quemo ae' (I'm burning!). Halfway through the piece, we hear Mirabel's trumpet behind the backing vocals, briefly adding some spice before holding on an E (Coincidence? I don't think so). The trumpet, which only appears here, makes way for an acoustic guitar solo providing some form to the song.
Amor de Loca Juventud
This slow piece grooves thanks to a slower tempo accompanied by eighth notes (and sometimes sixteenths) on maracas. Ry Cooder plays an acoustic slide guitar alongside Compay Segundo's acoustic, which gives the piece a metallic, plucked - and almost dreamy - quality, especially when both acoustic guitars are soloing together. The piece - the first of three songs apparently influenced by American gospel blues - features a lovely vocal duet by Segundo and Julio Alberto Fernandez (who also plays maracas) accounting a tale of "the insane love of youth."
Orgullecida
This piece is perhaps the most out of place on the entire recording. Another tune influenced by American styles, here it is blatantly obvious; this is the only piece on the recording that swings eighth notes, and Joachim Cooder plays a standard jazz beat on a drum set (yep, hi-hat on 2 and 4). Ry Cooder's jazzy electric slide guitar solo (after the first verse), Mirabel's trumpet solo (closing the piece), and Barbarito Torres' riffing on the laoud make the jazz influence even more obvious, dancing around a blues scale. This isn't to mention Orlando Lopez's walking bass line. Consequently, the only thing that makes this piece Cuban is the nationality of a handful of the musicians - and the fact that the lyrics are indeed in Spanish, another duet.
Murmullo
The liner notes describe this piece as a "romantic ballad inspired by Hollywood musicals," which seems a little strange to me. I can indeed hear the resemblance, particularly in the long, vibrato notes that Ferrer hits in his lamenting of 'bewitched' lovers. However, I am somewhat perplexed because the piece is so similar in tempo (just a tad slower) and feel to Pueblo Nuevo, the instrumental danzon piece. The main differences are the chord progression and the addition of vocals - which apparently are enough to change the style completely. Like Pueblo Nuevo, Ruben Gonzalez supplies extended piano soloing atop a slow, danceable groove. Also apparent are some second-beat triplets in the maracas and the odd ornamentation from Cooder's electric slides. Vocals in the final third of the piece (another duet, by the way, featuring Ferrer) are exclusively limited to humming, which does give the song a unique quality not found anywhere else on the album.
Buena Vista Social Club
Okay, here's the other instrumental danzon piece (I was asking for it, wasn't I?). According to the liner notes, this is characterized by the rhythm itself - apparently not necessarily the tempo or instrumentation. The chord progression is significantly different than any other piece on the recording, adding more tritones and movement from key to key. Cooder's electric slides offer higher, ghoulish pitches; combined with the watery sound of the udu drum, these give the piece a spooky quality. Again here, the song basically an extended piano solo by Ruben Gonzalez. The near-five-minute solo intensifies significantly in the final minute, including segments in the upmost octave, a booming descension down to the lowest octove, loud chords, and even a brief moment around 4:23 where he shows a hint of a montuno. At the very end of the piece, Gonzalez plays a quick, rhythmic outro along with Lazaro Villa on the guiro.
La Bayamesa
Musically, this piece is a rather unexpected finale. Not only is it the shortest piece on the record; it is also the only one in 3/4, and the only piece without any percussion (except, of course, piano). Then again, the featured instrument is again the human voice, with Manuel Licea, Segundo, and Ferrer singing what the liner notes describe as "a patriotic hymn to the Republic...[telling] the story of a woman from Baymo, the first town to be liberated in the revolutionary war of 1868, who burns her house rather than let it fall into the hands of the Spanish."
Perhaps rather appropriately, therefore, the album closes with an ode to the Cuba of old - after the first revolution but before Castro's. Ultimately, this album is all about the preservation of music from that time period. Regardless of how 'authentic' it is, it still manages to groove nicely.
Sources
Cooder, Ry. Liner notes, Buena Vista Social Club. World Circuit, 1997.
Godfried, Eugene. "Buena Vista Social Club: Critics, self-criticism, and the survival of Cuban Son." Euguene Godfried on Buena Vista, http://afrocubaweb.com/eugenegodfried/buenavistacritics.htm, 11 November 2000. Visited 13 September 2009.
Middleton, Richard. Voicing the Popular: On the Subjects of Popular Music. New York: Routledge, 2006. 245-246.
Wikipedia
No comments:
Post a Comment