If any concert laboured under the weight of expectation, it would be this one. As I descended the red-walled stairs into the cauldron that is The Wardrobe, I spied many of the region's great and good: Mary and Tony of Salsa York, Lossie and Gareth of Encuentro Latino, Amos de Roover of Salsa Sin Limite, Dave Fenton of Mambo Collective, and organisers Fabio Bahia and Lubi of course; gathered together for what we anticipated to be the gig of the year. The floor was just getting packed under the exhortations of Simon Taylor, the Midlands-based Flip and Bounce salsa instructor, as his lesson got underway - an apt 'New York' style prelude to the main event.
I'd been aware of La Excelencia's progress, notified mainly by Facebook's photo updates, and knew that this was the last date since their arrival via the Channel Tunnel: a hectic schedule which took in Brighton, London and Glastonbury. A small part of me felt trepidation on the band's part; 'Mi Tumbao Social' had raised the bar so high, and I wondered how much there was in the tank after a grueling world tour. And there was the added consideration that artists can be good musicians, performers or entertainers, but very few are blessed with the complete package.
I busied myself with dalliances and a spot of not-very-clean dancing. Before I knew it La Excelencia had sprung out of the woodwork, giving us the CD's opening track 'Salsa dura' full-bore!
My initial impressions were good, but not sensational. There was a mismatch between what I saw on stage and what I heard: La Excelencia were playing tighter than a proverbial pit-bull's behind with its proverbials in a vice; and yet the music lacked sparkle - the sound pressure levels were too high for the room; the cymbals lacked 'air' because of a high frequency cut; the piano, central to their album's sound, was imperceptible; and the lead vocals sounded forced as if battling fatigue. I tuned out the audio preferring to emphasise the visual spectacle instead, waiting for the sound techs to get their act together.
I was right.
At the end of the number the singers wanted their stage monitors on, not just up! That explained the 'forced' quality. As the sound improved, La Excelencia lengthened their stride and ramped up the atmosphere. In my review of their album, I'd failed to mention the herculean lead vocalists Edwin Pérez and Gilberto Velázquez. I couldn't do so here. As the band's front men they are phenomena to be reckoned with live: dominating presences at the front-of-stage who just exude tremendous energy during performance.
Their set-list was a well chosen sequence of dynamics and so deliberately made for dancing, seamlessly marshaled through the hand of music director and pianist Willy Rodriguez. That they executed it all with such seemingly deceptive ease made me lime-green with envy, but more with admiration. During 'Aña pa' mi tambor' the dance floor, normally filled with oblivious-to-live-music salseros, had eyes for naught but the stage - there is NO greater compliment in this country.
The culmination of their startling gig was a climax where the brass section paraded through the audience playing moñas drawing the involvement of the dancers. On stage was a virtuoso dance solo in the urban style, the rumba columbia from New York City. I mentally willed La Excelenica to play every song from the album. But that wasn't going to happen. I would have liked to hear them play a good ole Fania classic like 'Todo tiene su final' or 'Mi gente', just so I could assess that dimension of their prodigious ability. That didn't happen either.
But what I had was enough.
La Excelencia are a band of irrepressible youth, yet they possess the maturity to play with the fuerza (power) and afinque (cohesion) of their paragon forefathers. That makes them rare. That they record and entertain magnificently to boot...
That, makes them unique.
Loo Yeo
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
The Challenge
If this post were spoken word, you'd hear the relief in my voice.
It's been a lazy evening and a patchy night's sleep since pressing the 'send' button, but the listlessness that accompanies the completion of a large project (you know, the big ones that make themselves a part of your life) is still with me.
I received an email ten weeks ago via the salsa-merengue.co.uk website asking whether I would be willing to accept a commission for an article. Dubiousness was the first pang I felt; my inbox pays unflinching witness all sorts, including some interesting uses for meringue. I responded with a cautious expression of interest and began my due diligence. Some email tennis and surfing later it turned out that the query was legitimate, and from a top-end publisher.
The Mission, should I have chosen to accept it, was to write about the globalisation of salsa as an entry for an encyclopaedia, in the house style, to a whale-bone corset of a three thousand words, and have it peer-reviewed by some pretty august peers... in two and a half months.
I exhaled slowly and leant back in my chair.
It's a tough ask for any professional; not any single factor, but all of them in combination. The whole world in two months, allowing for the unforeseen. Daunted was the second pang. There were plenty of reasons, excuses all, I could think of not to step up to the mark. On the other side of the balance scales, well, financially let's just say that people accepting this kind of commission do so to enhance their standing. But with a peer-review system that's never a guarantee; so if I did it at all, it would be for other reasons and publication would have to be the icing on the cake.
I wrote back accepting the challenge. Because I knew above all that if I didn't, I'd forever be thinking 'What if?'
And so it began.
The first three weeks, I started a master document of possibly-relevant points, mapped out a coarse structure and had a stab at the introduction. The points alone came up to four thousand words. Oops! And the draft intro didn't speak clearly, and the run into the section following felt like blocked circulation telling me that the framework was weak. Difficulty in coming up with a convincing working title simply confirmed it.
But by this time, thankfully, I had a pretty good idea of what I didn't know.
Although I could now hear every tick of the clock, there was no alternative but to track down more sources and put extra mileage on my eyeballs. Another precious four weeks passed, but as they progressed a shiny new structure emerged with the working title 'Transnational flows of salsa' and there came an opening section that flowed. The downside was that the increased knowledge made the master document tip over seven thousand words.
With well less and a month to go there was a culling of points with some frantic biro action and a rather tired-looking laptop, working on a combination of paper and keyboard. The rest of life was put on hold - practice sessions, nights dancing, and sleep were sacrificed on the tall altar of penmanship. In return I had the benedictions of more caffeine, eating out in restaurants where I could put paper to work, and more trips to the gym to pair mental tiredness with the physical.
It was a strange but nonetheless welcome consolation to hear from friends that I was being missed.
The last fortnight passed in a blur: the first draft was finished with seven days to go at just over four thousand words; then came five cycles of editing as I chopped off successive layers of literary fat. Editing was painful but necessary, serving to focus on what exactly was the core of the subject. Close to the end, the structure looked like this:
Unlike patronage during the Renaissance, this is 'try-before-you-buy' and I have to await the outcome of the editors' review. Until then, there's a more than a little reflection to be done.
Loo Yeo
It's been a lazy evening and a patchy night's sleep since pressing the 'send' button, but the listlessness that accompanies the completion of a large project (you know, the big ones that make themselves a part of your life) is still with me.
I received an email ten weeks ago via the salsa-merengue.co.uk website asking whether I would be willing to accept a commission for an article. Dubiousness was the first pang I felt; my inbox pays unflinching witness all sorts, including some interesting uses for meringue. I responded with a cautious expression of interest and began my due diligence. Some email tennis and surfing later it turned out that the query was legitimate, and from a top-end publisher.
The Mission, should I have chosen to accept it, was to write about the globalisation of salsa as an entry for an encyclopaedia, in the house style, to a whale-bone corset of a three thousand words, and have it peer-reviewed by some pretty august peers... in two and a half months.
I exhaled slowly and leant back in my chair.
It's a tough ask for any professional; not any single factor, but all of them in combination. The whole world in two months, allowing for the unforeseen. Daunted was the second pang. There were plenty of reasons, excuses all, I could think of not to step up to the mark. On the other side of the balance scales, well, financially let's just say that people accepting this kind of commission do so to enhance their standing. But with a peer-review system that's never a guarantee; so if I did it at all, it would be for other reasons and publication would have to be the icing on the cake.
I wrote back accepting the challenge. Because I knew above all that if I didn't, I'd forever be thinking 'What if?'
And so it began.
The first three weeks, I started a master document of possibly-relevant points, mapped out a coarse structure and had a stab at the introduction. The points alone came up to four thousand words. Oops! And the draft intro didn't speak clearly, and the run into the section following felt like blocked circulation telling me that the framework was weak. Difficulty in coming up with a convincing working title simply confirmed it.
But by this time, thankfully, I had a pretty good idea of what I didn't know.
Although I could now hear every tick of the clock, there was no alternative but to track down more sources and put extra mileage on my eyeballs. Another precious four weeks passed, but as they progressed a shiny new structure emerged with the working title 'Transnational flows of salsa' and there came an opening section that flowed. The downside was that the increased knowledge made the master document tip over seven thousand words.
With well less and a month to go there was a culling of points with some frantic biro action and a rather tired-looking laptop, working on a combination of paper and keyboard. The rest of life was put on hold - practice sessions, nights dancing, and sleep were sacrificed on the tall altar of penmanship. In return I had the benedictions of more caffeine, eating out in restaurants where I could put paper to work, and more trips to the gym to pair mental tiredness with the physical.
It was a strange but nonetheless welcome consolation to hear from friends that I was being missed.
The last fortnight passed in a blur: the first draft was finished with seven days to go at just over four thousand words; then came five cycles of editing as I chopped off successive layers of literary fat. Editing was painful but necessary, serving to focus on what exactly was the core of the subject. Close to the end, the structure looked like this:
- Introduction describing transnational salsa as a music and dance genre;
- Origins of the word, from flavour term to stylistic label;
- Properties of the music including the psychoacoustics for dance;
- Structural elements of a 'typical' salsa song;
- The five main schools of salsa performance with a comment on corroborating dance movement;
- Historical perspective on the development of each school;
- Other areas of production including the re-Africanization of salsa;
- References and recommended reading/listening/watching.
Unlike patronage during the Renaissance, this is 'try-before-you-buy' and I have to await the outcome of the editors' review. Until then, there's a more than a little reflection to be done.
Loo Yeo
Monday, June 08, 2009
6th June 2009 4de Diciembre @Millennium Hall, Sheffield
Millennium Hall is one of my favourite places for a social: there's plenty of room to dance or sit and chat, yet small enough to have a warm atmosphere; the floor though unsprung is an even, predictable surface; acoustics are good; and temperatures are comfortable when the air-conditioning works, which is most of the time. The last time we played in the venue was a touch over three years ago at Nicola's 40th - 4 de Diciembre's debut. This time it was for Mike's retirement party.
With it being local, logistics were much simpler but we still needed to provide our own sound reinforcement. I took it as a good opportunity to road-test equipment that we hadn't used in a while, and to put the information I'd acquired over the last two years as regards setting up a PA to good use. 4 de Diciembre has downsized to a conjunto-ish format and I was keen to see how much of the setup we could manage ourselves.
So with everything packed into respective cars, we drew up to the place at 6:00pm last Saturday. I did have a twinge of trepidation as things didn't run particularly smoothly the last time we used the Soundcraft M12 desk a year ago, but I'd learned a lot since then. One of the advantages of working with supremos like Blast PA is how much you can pick up just by experiencing how they approach their work. Jeremy and I went about it the same way and thanks also to our recording project, we both knew our way around the mixer much better.
It took us forty-five minutes to put everything in place, and less than ten to soundcheck satisfactorily. Then there was the hidden catch... there were to be three other acts with different line-ups, and they expected to use our PA. Note the word 'expected'. Some of our hard work had to be undone and it looked like I was going to have to play the role of sound engineer to boot. I admit I was piqued, but there was no sense in taking issue with it; after all, everyone was there to give Mike a proper send-off from the world of work.
Mike, host of honour, being serenaded by his partner Kate
as part of an a capella duo
As 4de12 were 'headlining' the programme and due on at the end, I spent the first part of the evening juggling mics and gains: there was a guitar and flute duo; an a capella duo featuring Mike's actress partner, Kate; Thom and his rhythm & blues ensemble complete with backing choir; and a melodion and folk guitar couple as well. It felt as if I'd had a backstage pass to a Jools Holland variety show. The DJ took over for a bit. This was my chance to grab a bite; being more than just a little peckish for the past couple of hours, I was in danger of becoming a bear with a sore head - not ideal for the evening's plans.
A couple of mini-quiches later and I was up on stage giving a salsa lesson. Given the time, the occasion and the audience, I adjusted the approach so that it had a bit of everything, a taster: the vocabulary was three basic steps, side-to-side, latin basic, and opening-outs; the bit on ear-training was to vocals and conga; the principles were on walks to salsa rhythm. There was even an impromptu demo with Ana to Celia Cruz's rather pacy 'Quimbara'; and all of it was wrapped up before the clock hit the forty-minute mark.
Teaching with an unruly member of the audience:
Thom's better half, Adele
With me still panting from the demo, the band opened up with 'Bilongo'. 'El tambor' and 'Nueva generación' followed suit, we were joined by Mike's sister and her spouse on flute and electric guitar on 'Oye como va' and 'La bamba'. It was all judged to perfection in terms of length and execution. By a quirk of fate, three of 4 de Diciembre's former violinists: Bea, Jan and Willie were at the party. It was only when I mentioned it that they realised we didn't have a timbalero in our line-up; the new arrangements had worked so well that they hadn't noticed! Instead they were remarking about how rich we sounded. Score one to Catie and the gang.
I think the most genuine compliment came from professional musician in the audience who said, 'you deserve to be playing to a bigger audience' - very flattering indeed. But having been around the block a bit, I find I enjoy the warm intimacy of a smaller occasion as much as the electricity of a jam-packed dance hall.
Oh, and it also happened to be Jan's birthday so I hi-jacked Mike's do for a few seconds and made a deal out of it. The Belgian remained unruffled. Must try harder.
Cuatro de Diciembre in relaxed mode
In the final analysis,
Loo Yen
With it being local, logistics were much simpler but we still needed to provide our own sound reinforcement. I took it as a good opportunity to road-test equipment that we hadn't used in a while, and to put the information I'd acquired over the last two years as regards setting up a PA to good use. 4 de Diciembre has downsized to a conjunto-ish format and I was keen to see how much of the setup we could manage ourselves.
So with everything packed into respective cars, we drew up to the place at 6:00pm last Saturday. I did have a twinge of trepidation as things didn't run particularly smoothly the last time we used the Soundcraft M12 desk a year ago, but I'd learned a lot since then. One of the advantages of working with supremos like Blast PA is how much you can pick up just by experiencing how they approach their work. Jeremy and I went about it the same way and thanks also to our recording project, we both knew our way around the mixer much better.
It took us forty-five minutes to put everything in place, and less than ten to soundcheck satisfactorily. Then there was the hidden catch... there were to be three other acts with different line-ups, and they expected to use our PA. Note the word 'expected'. Some of our hard work had to be undone and it looked like I was going to have to play the role of sound engineer to boot. I admit I was piqued, but there was no sense in taking issue with it; after all, everyone was there to give Mike a proper send-off from the world of work.
Mike, host of honour, being serenaded by his partner Kateas part of an a capella duo
As 4de12 were 'headlining' the programme and due on at the end, I spent the first part of the evening juggling mics and gains: there was a guitar and flute duo; an a capella duo featuring Mike's actress partner, Kate; Thom and his rhythm & blues ensemble complete with backing choir; and a melodion and folk guitar couple as well. It felt as if I'd had a backstage pass to a Jools Holland variety show. The DJ took over for a bit. This was my chance to grab a bite; being more than just a little peckish for the past couple of hours, I was in danger of becoming a bear with a sore head - not ideal for the evening's plans.
A couple of mini-quiches later and I was up on stage giving a salsa lesson. Given the time, the occasion and the audience, I adjusted the approach so that it had a bit of everything, a taster: the vocabulary was three basic steps, side-to-side, latin basic, and opening-outs; the bit on ear-training was to vocals and conga; the principles were on walks to salsa rhythm. There was even an impromptu demo with Ana to Celia Cruz's rather pacy 'Quimbara'; and all of it was wrapped up before the clock hit the forty-minute mark.
Teaching with an unruly member of the audience:Thom's better half, Adele
With me still panting from the demo, the band opened up with 'Bilongo'. 'El tambor' and 'Nueva generación' followed suit, we were joined by Mike's sister and her spouse on flute and electric guitar on 'Oye como va' and 'La bamba'. It was all judged to perfection in terms of length and execution. By a quirk of fate, three of 4 de Diciembre's former violinists: Bea, Jan and Willie were at the party. It was only when I mentioned it that they realised we didn't have a timbalero in our line-up; the new arrangements had worked so well that they hadn't noticed! Instead they were remarking about how rich we sounded. Score one to Catie and the gang.
I think the most genuine compliment came from professional musician in the audience who said, 'you deserve to be playing to a bigger audience' - very flattering indeed. But having been around the block a bit, I find I enjoy the warm intimacy of a smaller occasion as much as the electricity of a jam-packed dance hall.
Oh, and it also happened to be Jan's birthday so I hi-jacked Mike's do for a few seconds and made a deal out of it. The Belgian remained unruffled. Must try harder.
Cuatro de Diciembre in relaxed mode In the final analysis,
- everything we did: the equipment; the lesson; the set was entirely suited to purpose. That's a good thing because we're due to perform again in a fortnight, sadly under less jovial circumstances (more on that later).
- as a sound tech I got lucky: the room didn't give me any problems at all; if it'd been like the one in Darlington... I shudder to think. Our microphones: Neumann KMS105s; Sennheiser Evolution 945s; Shure SM57s and 58s hardly needed any EQ on the desk and were great for feedback rejection. The only awkward one was the AMT Roam on Catie's flute. Two additional pieces of equipment would give us more versatility - a pair of powered speakers like the JBL EON 15 as a minimum spec, and at least one Sennheiser HD421 for the congas.
- as an instructor, I need to develop a broader vocabulary of teaching points for the opening-outs if I don't intend on going via the back basic. An engaging way of presenting each basic as highly user-configurable at beginner level would be useful, to act as a bridge the salsa walk.
- for the set, 'Oye como va' would be way stronger with more dynamics in its energy; and aesthetically I'd like to beef up the cuerpo of 'La bamba' and add a call-and-response section in the montuno with a theme to reconnect it to its folkloric roots.
Loo Yen
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The End Of Wage Slavery
is the name of the event that Mike, our trombonist, has arranged to commemorate his pending retirement from Linguistic Academia. For that he's booked the Millenium Hall on Ecclesall Road for an evening of joyous, if not raucous celebration on the 6th of June. Friends and family will be in attendance and a good number of very highly proficient musicians will be amongst them.
He asked the band whether we'd play a few numbers, and me personally whether I'd be okay to step on stage and do a little salsa lesson for the party-goers. A delighted "yes" was the answer on both counts. Mike wanted very much for everyone there to hear what Cuatro de Diciembre was about, and also to give his musician friends the chance to jam with the gang.
He and I decided that five numbers would be sufficient and agreed that two of them, the ones at the end of the mini-set, should be the jam numbers. Understandably we had to choose two Latin songs that non-Latins would be familiar with, and picked 'Oye como va' and 'La bamba' out of the shortlist.
There's been a sense of deja vu as we've been preparing these standards; I remember performing both of them nearly a decade ago before leaving them behind as our playlists matured. And I must confess to being internally conflicted at the outset, in returning to songs which I associated with the 'cheesy' end of the salsa band market.
Then I brought myself up short.
Firstly, we were doing this for musically legitimate reasons; foremost of which were audience accessibility and audience participation.
Secondly it was up to us, Cuatro de Diciembre, to interpret any song in an honest and distinguished manner. It fell on my shoulders as Music Director to rise to the challenge of ensuring that 'Oye como va' and 'La bamba' could speak in the manner that we all believed in. As usual there wasn't to be much time.
The descarga format is meant precisely for these purposes, and that formed the basis for the structure of both songs:
For La bamba, we've eschewed Richie Valens' electric guitar-based vibe for the easy Mbalax-tinged feel of 'Sabador' by Africando - the latter an interpretation much better suited to 4de12's way of playing.
There has been some element of reassurance needed to be given by me to my colleagues in the band, particularly the founding ones who remembered playing these songs the first time 'round. I had to make sure that there was plenty of opportunity to express the maturity of our musicianship - so that the reprise of these songs would not be interpreted as a retrograde step.
In the end, it was the elegant simplicity of our groove which spoke most clearly of our growth during the intervening years.
And it was the tasteful use of a limited pallete of motifs, as simple highlights to let this groove shine through, that told of my personal development as director of this great band's music.
I learned something new along the way: that La bamba has a folkloric heritage of Mexico that is centuries old; and that I myself had been labouring beneath prejudices that rightfully needed to be overcome.
Loo Yeo
He asked the band whether we'd play a few numbers, and me personally whether I'd be okay to step on stage and do a little salsa lesson for the party-goers. A delighted "yes" was the answer on both counts. Mike wanted very much for everyone there to hear what Cuatro de Diciembre was about, and also to give his musician friends the chance to jam with the gang.
He and I decided that five numbers would be sufficient and agreed that two of them, the ones at the end of the mini-set, should be the jam numbers. Understandably we had to choose two Latin songs that non-Latins would be familiar with, and picked 'Oye como va' and 'La bamba' out of the shortlist.
There's been a sense of deja vu as we've been preparing these standards; I remember performing both of them nearly a decade ago before leaving them behind as our playlists matured. And I must confess to being internally conflicted at the outset, in returning to songs which I associated with the 'cheesy' end of the salsa band market.
Then I brought myself up short.
Firstly, we were doing this for musically legitimate reasons; foremost of which were audience accessibility and audience participation.
Secondly it was up to us, Cuatro de Diciembre, to interpret any song in an honest and distinguished manner. It fell on my shoulders as Music Director to rise to the challenge of ensuring that 'Oye como va' and 'La bamba' could speak in the manner that we all believed in. As usual there wasn't to be much time.
The descarga format is meant precisely for these purposes, and that formed the basis for the structure of both songs:
- a simple fixed opening consisting of intro, verses and choruses;
- a closing consisting of a break, chorus reprise and outro;
- both sandwiching an extended montuno section of uncomplicated harmonic progression where the guests might descarga [improvise, lit. 'unload'].
- Catie (flute), Mike (trombone) and Thom (trumpet) would perform solos - one at the beginning of the improvised section, one to bring us out at the end, and one to fill in should any guest soloist not be ready in time. There's also the possibility of a percussion and a vocal solo if necessary.
- a short instrumental bridge was put together to be played by all the former three, to act as an interlude between one soloist and the next. I'd like to think of it as the sorbet which refreshes the palate in between courses.
For La bamba, we've eschewed Richie Valens' electric guitar-based vibe for the easy Mbalax-tinged feel of 'Sabador' by Africando - the latter an interpretation much better suited to 4de12's way of playing.
There has been some element of reassurance needed to be given by me to my colleagues in the band, particularly the founding ones who remembered playing these songs the first time 'round. I had to make sure that there was plenty of opportunity to express the maturity of our musicianship - so that the reprise of these songs would not be interpreted as a retrograde step.
In the end, it was the elegant simplicity of our groove which spoke most clearly of our growth during the intervening years.
And it was the tasteful use of a limited pallete of motifs, as simple highlights to let this groove shine through, that told of my personal development as director of this great band's music.
I learned something new along the way: that La bamba has a folkloric heritage of Mexico that is centuries old; and that I myself had been labouring beneath prejudices that rightfully needed to be overcome.
Loo Yeo
Sunday, May 03, 2009
A Place Or A Name?
I've been using Facebook as a research resource for a project I'm working on: looking at salsa all over the world, with an especially keen eye on communities where salsa is not indigenous like Asia and Australia. I signed in one morning to find that Bosco had left me a question about an experience he had in India which triggered a flurry of dialogue. Here's the (edited for brevity) wall-to-wall:
[begins]
Jose María Bustos:
Loo, as a musician I gotta ask you, while playing in Mumbai a woman walked up to me and said she loved my music, but why was it 'all on two' ? I glared at her and explained that there is no such thing as 'on one' or 'on two' music its all the same, but you can choose to dance it on one or on two.
Who has started this rumor that muscians actually sit down and say 'oh, lets write an 'on one' or an 'on two' track today. Its mambo, cha cha, timba whatever but never one or two. Can I get a witness on this!? or an I missing something here?
Loo Yeo:
I don't go out to write songs for 'on1' or 'on2', I don't know of any artists who do. However, you can certainly take a song and interpret it in a way that certain 'clans' of dancers would associate with. I'll be brave and say that the association occurs at the dance pedagogic end.
Very interesting experience you had there! What music did you play?
Also, I'm able to give you a more thorough response via a blog article. Mind if I address it by opening using the below (above in this case) as a quote?
Jose María Bustos:
Please do, by all means! Frankly I see it being bad for salsa if dance school perpetuate this notion and bad for music sales as well. You are correct it is a dance school notion and should be nipped in the bud!
Jose María Bustos:
Johnny Cruz, Bobby Valentin, Cheo Navarro, Willie Rosario, Issac Delgado, Hector Ramos, Mulenza, Eklan...
Loo Yeo:
hmm. You kept to Puerto Rican/Nuyorican salsa mainly? Was the Issac material pre-timba?
Jose María Bustos:
Dude, I play NYC style and the Issac is post Timba, as he's now amercianised himself with a more Miami sound, beat and arrangements. But I can mix it up with the best of em! Which brings me to Soneros All Stars 'La Timba Soy Yo' This is... ...my kind of Timba!!
Loo Yeo:
I think I understand more about the context of the lady in Mumbai's question. NYC salsa could have been associated with On2 purely on a geographical basis; instead of understanding which musical features should be significantly prominent (irrespective of source location) which might best suit an On2 style.
[ends]
NYC style. NYC salsa.
If we're talking dance then are we referring to Eddie Torres On2? Palladium or Power 2? How about Boogaloo? That's a style born of the great city. And Pachanga too. Both the last two are ostensibly On1...
And is the concept of synchronising a movement with beat two specific to NYC? Is "{anything}2" a NYC trademark? What of contratiempo or en clave which have been Cuban phenomena for more than a century?
What sort of music is New York salsa best danced to? Is it that which simply comes from New York? Fania, RMM, salsa dura, salsa romántica, DLG, Yerba Buena, La Excelencia, Orquesta Broadway, Wayne Gorbea?
What about El Gran Combo or Sonora Ponceña if they'd recorded in Puerto Rico?
Reading Mary Kent's biography of Eddie Torres featured on http://www.eddietorres.com/salsa.html
[quote]
"With no concept of timing, technique or theory, his instruction consisted of rudimentary pointers: "You hear that accent? That means you break forward with the left foot and when you hear it again, you break back." This is known as dancing on two, Eddie would soon find out.
Breaking on two meant that of a four beat measure, you stepped forward with the left foot on the second beat and on the second beat second measure you stepped back on the right foot. According to Eddie's mentor, Tito Puente, that's why beat two is so popular, because it compliments the tumbao of the conga and the rhythm section."
[unquote]
©1995 Mary Kent. All Rights Acknowledged.
It's exactly consistent with what he and I talked about in '96 when I first started dancing his style: then branded "Street 2".
I've played a lot of Latin percussion since, and realise that the accent Eddie's talking about is the slap stroke of the tumbao moderno on the conga. It's played on (what European-trained musicians recognise as) beat two. New York-style mozambique, a favoured rhythm of Eddie Palmieri, also has slap strokes on beat two; as well as on the 'and of 1' and 'and of 4' every other bar.
A caballo, also interpreted on the conga for pachanga, has slap strokes on beats one and three, with a hardly-audible ghost stroke on beat two. Slap strokes are generally optional in another New York favourite, the guaguancó originally from the West Cuban ports of Matanzas and La Habana (the slaps would precede the open tones to add definition, and work a fill in the phrase).
This means that if we were slavishly to adhere to the raison d'etre of Street 2, we would mainly be dancing only songs containing a tumbao moderno and NYC mozambiques. And hence any defensible critique of a DJ playing mainly "On2" tracks would require the critic being able to distinguish the likes of mozambiques, chachachás, and guarachas from the other likes of pachangas, guaguancós and songos.
Referring again to the first line of the quote from Mary Kent - I seldom come across On2 dance instructors, or On1 ones for that matter, who have a strong enough understanding of: the rhythmic structures of salsa, and the purposes which the On1 and On2 time-steps are meant to achieve, to be able to communicate this clearly to their students.
Sadly, the gap in this knowledge is papered over with the dogma 'NYC-style salsa dance is danced to NYC salsa music'.
More regretfully, this façade hides the richness of the basic time-step and how it may be varied to interpret the breadth of salsa's music. How many dancers think that there is only one way of executing the basic time-step, and that they've learned it already?
I know first-hand that the charismatic creator of "Street 2" emphasises adaptability, not rigidity. What makes him great to this very day, even when there are others who are flashier, younger and faster, is his desire to understand the Whys and to make sure that he fulfills seriously his responsibilities as an educator - that his students are informed to the best of his ability.
An educator empowers his students to choose, and eventually to own their knowledge. I stopped dancing On2 years ago. My partners now dance with me.
I should like that the rising stars of the salsa dance-teaching scene remember that there is more to it than just the excitement of travel, glamour of performance, and the adulation at the congresses. There is the very real task of being an educator, which unarguably requires more commitment than any prolonged training for a stage show.
And I should like that their young charges continue to ask the 'why?' of them, to release their ultimate potential.
Yeo Loo Yen
[begins]
Jose María Bustos:
Loo, as a musician I gotta ask you, while playing in Mumbai a woman walked up to me and said she loved my music, but why was it 'all on two' ? I glared at her and explained that there is no such thing as 'on one' or 'on two' music its all the same, but you can choose to dance it on one or on two.
Who has started this rumor that muscians actually sit down and say 'oh, lets write an 'on one' or an 'on two' track today. Its mambo, cha cha, timba whatever but never one or two. Can I get a witness on this!? or an I missing something here?
Loo Yeo:
I don't go out to write songs for 'on1' or 'on2', I don't know of any artists who do. However, you can certainly take a song and interpret it in a way that certain 'clans' of dancers would associate with. I'll be brave and say that the association occurs at the dance pedagogic end.
Very interesting experience you had there! What music did you play?
Also, I'm able to give you a more thorough response via a blog article. Mind if I address it by opening using the below (above in this case) as a quote?
Jose María Bustos:
Please do, by all means! Frankly I see it being bad for salsa if dance school perpetuate this notion and bad for music sales as well. You are correct it is a dance school notion and should be nipped in the bud!
Jose María Bustos:
Johnny Cruz, Bobby Valentin, Cheo Navarro, Willie Rosario, Issac Delgado, Hector Ramos, Mulenza, Eklan...
Loo Yeo:
hmm. You kept to Puerto Rican/Nuyorican salsa mainly? Was the Issac material pre-timba?
Jose María Bustos:
Dude, I play NYC style and the Issac is post Timba, as he's now amercianised himself with a more Miami sound, beat and arrangements. But I can mix it up with the best of em! Which brings me to Soneros All Stars 'La Timba Soy Yo' This is... ...my kind of Timba!!
Loo Yeo:
I think I understand more about the context of the lady in Mumbai's question. NYC salsa could have been associated with On2 purely on a geographical basis; instead of understanding which musical features should be significantly prominent (irrespective of source location) which might best suit an On2 style.
[ends]
NYC style. NYC salsa.
If we're talking dance then are we referring to Eddie Torres On2? Palladium or Power 2? How about Boogaloo? That's a style born of the great city. And Pachanga too. Both the last two are ostensibly On1...
And is the concept of synchronising a movement with beat two specific to NYC? Is "{anything}2" a NYC trademark? What of contratiempo or en clave which have been Cuban phenomena for more than a century?
What sort of music is New York salsa best danced to? Is it that which simply comes from New York? Fania, RMM, salsa dura, salsa romántica, DLG, Yerba Buena, La Excelencia, Orquesta Broadway, Wayne Gorbea?
What about El Gran Combo or Sonora Ponceña if they'd recorded in Puerto Rico?
Reading Mary Kent's biography of Eddie Torres featured on http://www.eddietorres.com/salsa.html
[quote]
"With no concept of timing, technique or theory, his instruction consisted of rudimentary pointers: "You hear that accent? That means you break forward with the left foot and when you hear it again, you break back." This is known as dancing on two, Eddie would soon find out.
Breaking on two meant that of a four beat measure, you stepped forward with the left foot on the second beat and on the second beat second measure you stepped back on the right foot. According to Eddie's mentor, Tito Puente, that's why beat two is so popular, because it compliments the tumbao of the conga and the rhythm section."
[unquote]
©1995 Mary Kent. All Rights Acknowledged.
It's exactly consistent with what he and I talked about in '96 when I first started dancing his style: then branded "Street 2".
I've played a lot of Latin percussion since, and realise that the accent Eddie's talking about is the slap stroke of the tumbao moderno on the conga. It's played on (what European-trained musicians recognise as) beat two. New York-style mozambique, a favoured rhythm of Eddie Palmieri, also has slap strokes on beat two; as well as on the 'and of 1' and 'and of 4' every other bar.
A caballo, also interpreted on the conga for pachanga, has slap strokes on beats one and three, with a hardly-audible ghost stroke on beat two. Slap strokes are generally optional in another New York favourite, the guaguancó originally from the West Cuban ports of Matanzas and La Habana (the slaps would precede the open tones to add definition, and work a fill in the phrase).
This means that if we were slavishly to adhere to the raison d'etre of Street 2, we would mainly be dancing only songs containing a tumbao moderno and NYC mozambiques. And hence any defensible critique of a DJ playing mainly "On2" tracks would require the critic being able to distinguish the likes of mozambiques, chachachás, and guarachas from the other likes of pachangas, guaguancós and songos.
Referring again to the first line of the quote from Mary Kent - I seldom come across On2 dance instructors, or On1 ones for that matter, who have a strong enough understanding of: the rhythmic structures of salsa, and the purposes which the On1 and On2 time-steps are meant to achieve, to be able to communicate this clearly to their students.
Sadly, the gap in this knowledge is papered over with the dogma 'NYC-style salsa dance is danced to NYC salsa music'.
More regretfully, this façade hides the richness of the basic time-step and how it may be varied to interpret the breadth of salsa's music. How many dancers think that there is only one way of executing the basic time-step, and that they've learned it already?
I know first-hand that the charismatic creator of "Street 2" emphasises adaptability, not rigidity. What makes him great to this very day, even when there are others who are flashier, younger and faster, is his desire to understand the Whys and to make sure that he fulfills seriously his responsibilities as an educator - that his students are informed to the best of his ability.
An educator empowers his students to choose, and eventually to own their knowledge. I stopped dancing On2 years ago. My partners now dance with me.
I should like that the rising stars of the salsa dance-teaching scene remember that there is more to it than just the excitement of travel, glamour of performance, and the adulation at the congresses. There is the very real task of being an educator, which unarguably requires more commitment than any prolonged training for a stage show.
And I should like that their young charges continue to ask the 'why?' of them, to release their ultimate potential.
Yeo Loo Yen
Monday, April 27, 2009
24th April 2009 Conjunto Salsonito @Salsaworks, Roger Kirk Centre, York (Part 2)
Conjunto Salsonito dishing out New York-style Salsa DuraThe Galleria of the Roger Kirk Centre comfortably hosted five hundred and fifty salseros at Twelfth Night, whilst the Engine Shed would pack out at slightly over two hundred with the overspill moving to the floor upstairs. Seasoned promoters would spot straight away the potential danger of a significant leap in venue size and the impact that might have not just on cost, but also in atmosphere.
With a lot at stake and a number of competing events on that night and that weekend, Tony, Mary, Alfredo and Christine pulled all the stops out mobilising their considerable salsa-base, inviting two performance shows, putting on the band, and designing a rather interesting warm-up lesson (more on that later). The attention to detail was relentless. That's what the "none of that jazzy bollocks" quip was about, jazz musicians are occasionally given to an introspective mode of playing with robs a salsa performance of its typical exuberance; it was a reminder to remain extroverted and engaged with the dancers.
Well, it worked.
Conjunto Salsonito delivered recognisably New York-style salsa dura tracks well, and the progression through the setlist did point to some measure of Lubi's hand in the selection; I've known him for long enough to make out his style of music. I can see why the band could be marketed as in the mould of La Perfecta, mainly with the deployment of two trombones. But though they played well, they weren't committed enough to be put in the same league. Let's face it, few groups ever will be.
As an ethnomusicologist and salsa historian, it's easy for me to see why.
In Mary Kent's interview with Eddie in her definitive 'Salsa Talks', Mr.Palmieri talked of how La Perfecta was made special because each and every member was unified in an "unbearable" single purpose. That phrase is permanently seared in my mind as a benchmark for any ensemble performance, be it my own, any other band, or dance troupe.
There is only one word - Intensity.
I think that's the nub of it, if the rumours be true. The performers didn't come across as believing completely in the music they were playing - it's a problem if numbers are selected without getting enough 'buy in' from the people interpreting them. Don't get me wrong, it was a competent rendition that could have been blessed with a little more flair; perhaps a few shamelessly extroverted face-melting solos a la Jack Black's 'School of Rock'.
'Restrained' would be the fairest word that I could use based on what I experienced. One number, ironically their cover of Eddie Palmieri's 'Muñeca', showed off Conjunto Salsonito's full potential - they laid it out absolutely brilliantly. It was the clearest instance of the musicians united in purpose. If I were music director for the band, I'd strengthen the setlists by trialling thirty to forty shortlisted songs, selecting for the ones that spoke to every musician in the same way that 'Muñeca' did. It's harder work, but it's an approach that's paid dividends for 4de12.
All that said, it wouldn't be unrealistic of me to expect great things of them when I see them next; and I wish Jonny every success. Few guys deserve it more.
The other formally scheduled diversions of evening were two amateur dance troupe performances: one from York-based Encuentro Latino, the other from Jimmy SA's school in Newcastle. Both troupes were large, about ten couples each. Whilst not having the precision and polish of a professional one, they both had something that pro groups sometimes lack: enthusiasm and... you guessed it, Intensity.
Striking Pose: Newcastle Amateur Performance Troupechoreographed by Jimmy SA
I always, always, watch the faces of first-time performers - it reminds me of much and keeps me honest.
With all of the performances over, I set about spreading myself out a bit: dancing contratiempo with an ETOn2 salsa newbie here, a chachachá there, some bachata thrown in.
Which reminds me... Alfredo and Christine's lesson earlier on. It was a combination of bachata and tango, that is, 'bachatango' danced to Gotan Project-style music - a movement currently being promoted by well-travelled bachata instructor Tony Lara. I thought it was fun. And yes, I know the purists of both would have been giving the above two lines the evil stare, but the two genres have at least two things in common: the Caribbean rhythmic motif of the cinquillo; and their histories as suppressed musics and dances of the underprivileged classes. I just don't know how the defining hip movements of the Dominican dance can be squared with the stringent lack of one in the Argentine tango. And surely in terms of spirit, isn't the kizomba a more mature and better resolved system? Bachatango can't even boast the advantage of ambidextrous movement changes that tango has over the kizomba.
Sounds like an attempt at product diversification to me.
Meanwhile back on the dance floor, I espied an East European stunner and resolved to find out if she could dance as well as she looked. She would have been hard to miss: red dress, carefully coiffured highlighted hair, pearly white teeth, plenty of foundation, matching lipstick and accessories. I gave her every opportunity to express herself and valiantly got as far as a little honest smile behind her broad display one. Part of me felt extremely tempted to put her through her paces to see if I could get her blusher could run from her perspiration, but thankfully I managed to suppress that Chingis Khan portion of my psyche and decorously returned her to her table unmussed at the end of the song.
The contrast with the next dance, a salsatón with an uninhibited power-pack of a partner could not have been more stark. Urban movements, rhythmic tensions, sexuality... drew an impromptu round of applause from those seated nearby; likely for the sheer bravado.
By the time I hit the sack at the Piper's, the birds were tweeting. Again. It's getting to be a bit of a disturbing habit.
Salsaworks with Conjunto Salsonito was an evening plum-full of enjoyment. And from the looks of every salsa dancer there, there was plenty of the stuff going around.
Salsonito are a solid band, and I very much enjoyed dancing to them. But their management, whomever they might be, should exercise more care when marketing them in the same breath as the words La Perfecta.
Loo Yeo
Sunday, April 26, 2009
24th April 2009 Conjunto Salsonito @Salsaworks, York (Part 1)
The salsa community in the North of England is a small one, and its grapevine had been rattling for several months with talk about a new band. Actually 'rattling' is a bit on the gentle side, think hooting lemurs.
Conjunto Salsonito is billed as a seven member ensemble featuring two trombones, keyboards, bass, congas, timbales, and Cuban singer Kike Sire on lead vocals and doubling up on bongó. All the musicians have a Latin or jazz background, previously being part of other Northern salsa bands like Grupo X, Descarga, and Raices Cubanas, ably led by trombonist Jonny Enright of the former.
Conjunto Salsonito is billed as a seven member ensemble featuring two trombones, keyboards, bass, congas, timbales, and Cuban singer Kike Sire on lead vocals and doubling up on bongó. All the musicians have a Latin or jazz background, previously being part of other Northern salsa bands like Grupo X, Descarga, and Raices Cubanas, ably led by trombonist Jonny Enright of the former.
Conjunto Salsonito 'bringing it' to York,
playing New York-style salsa dura
That's the objective line.
I found the undercurrent on the grapevine much more interesting. Scuttlebutt had it that DJ Lubi Jovanovich was the backstage force behind the band, assembling it, designing the playlist, determining the playing tempi, and opening the doors to the various promoters with whom he had the professional relationships. In other words, Lubi was informally credited as the manager and music director behind the band, and that he played a greater role on the music direction than Jonny. Whilst that might have explained a few things, I knew better than to listen to rumour and speculate upon its implications.
Conspiracy theorists dance salsa too.
And neither should it matter. I was simply very, very keen to experience "New York-style salsa dura in the style of (Eddie Palmieri's) La Perfecta". The simple thought of it alone had me drooling in anticipation - surely the scene could be enriched with another top-notch band playing frequently in the area? What's more, I'd already booked the day off since 4 de Diciembre had been tentatively billed to play this slot (4de12 eventually had to decline as changes to our lineup haven't been completely worked through yet). Personally, I felt a mixture of happiness and relief that Salsaworks promoter and friend, Tony Piper, had booked such a strong alternative in the form of Jonny & Co.
The early Spring weather was Britain at its vibrant best. Even the machinations of an inconstant ticket-vending machine, and a shirty teller with a customerserviceectomy failed to dampen my mood as I caught the train to York.
Tony picked me up at the station, his latest salsa acquisition blaring from the stereo, and we soon alighted at his place where he and Mary were preparing the nibbles for the evening. That's the sign of their attention to detail, might I add. The breaking of bread together is fundamental to building a community, and I can't think of many promoters in salsa who go to such lengths. I'd brought gifts as usual, and duly presented Mary with a fine bottle of aged Cuban rum and Tony with a rather delicate bouquet of yellow roses.
Then it was to the business end, Tony and I set off to the Roger Kirk Centre at the University of York where Salsaworks is now in residence. The event's found a new home there after the shock passing of Dave, owner and licensee of the Engine Shed. Sadly, contention of ownership have kept the Shed's doors firmly shut for the last four months (and for the foreseeable future) hence the move to 12th Night Extravaganza's venue.
I helped rig up the lighting with Tony and made a nuisance of myself with the sound reinforcement guys, one of whom was sporting a rather fetching pink "mohican". You know you're gonna get good sounds from a confident individual like that! Then Jonny Enright arrived, and he and I were finally formally introduced. What a nice soul, gentlemanly and understated; he struck me as someone good to work with.
Tony and the 'Neers: a light moment during setup
A short conversation later, Tony and I were off to pick up more stuff, grab dinner, and tart ourselves up for the evening, leaving Tony's now-famous exhortation of "none of that jazzy bollocks" lingering in the air and Jonny's poor ears.
(On to Part Two.)
Loo
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