Backbeat Timeline: Maracas

Warm-up: Refinements to back-beat definitions
Solo, to music. Caribbean sway basic, atiempo embodiment rhythm. Single shaker, played to the campana-güiro backbeat rhythm (beats 4,4+ and 2,2+). The definition was augmented where:

• the güiro backbeat variation was defined as being played by one hand, oscillating in free space; and,
• the campana backbeat variation was defined as being played by one hand into the palm of the other.

This is because the scraper of the güiro moves in freely over the surface of the gourd, while the beater of the campana creates its sound through impact. The two approaches on the shaker are the best approximations in translation.

During early practice of the campana backbeat rhythm, some participants expressed inability to get into the groove (i.e. state of entrainment). This was because they had inadvertently 'frozen' their upper body by keeping their receiving palm rigid in space; and both elbows close to the sides of the torso.

Freedom was regained using a rhythmic clapping action where both hands were accelerated to each other, and the elbows kept a distance away from the rib cage. As the participants achieved entrainment, I pointed out how the clapping activity could be used to calibrate the rhythmic engine carried in the upper torso. I further suggested that the shaker could be impacted against the side of the thigh, like tambourine players do.

The arising of the problem and its solution was a fortunate happenstance. It made everyone aware of how physical restriction stymies rhythmic freedom, and it allowed me to pose the question,

"What is the minimum individual space needed for rhythm?"

That certainly caused a period of individual thought and experimentation. To which I then added,

"Do you allow your partner that minimum distance when you dance? For example, in Rueda (de Casino)?"

As I've come to expect (and encourage), every participant expressed her/his own preference for the variations, and feeling for the groove.

Backbeat Timeline: Maracas

Briefing: Maracas as a 'sexed-pair' instrument
Each pair comprises: a 'macho' [male] which is higher-pitched and more aggressive in tone, and an 'hembra' [female] which is lower-pitched and mellower in tone.

Briefing: How to hold maracas
The balance-point of a maraca should be slightly above the neck of the instrument. The neck is positioned between the first and second fingers of the hand, meaning that the head would tip over if uncontrolled. The first and second knuckles are the most stable in the hand, this allows for the most efficient transfer of force from the body, and the most control. Holding maracas by their necks is the shortest distance between the hands and the enclosed beads, without dampening the bead enclosure. It also allows the option for their handles to be played.

Exercise One: Playing the maraca backbeat rhythm
Solo, to music. Caribbean sway basic, atiempo embodiment rhythm. Macho in non-dominant hand, hembra in dominant hand. Macho tones on the backbeats (beats 4 and 2), hembra tones on the backbeat upbeats (beats 4+ and 2+); hence the basic maraca backbeat rhythm is played as macho-hembra couplets on beats 4,4+ and  2,2+.

Observations

Participants found the rhythm easier to play because tones are distributed across two shakers, and enjoyed the experience more. This is because:

1. return of the beads to the shaker-bowl (and their collection) was no longer a rate-limiting factor i.e. they could initiate the upbeat tones (4+ and 2+) before the beads of the downbeat tones (4 and 2) had regrouped;
2. the wave-length of actuation, formerly limited to the shaker to the elbow, could be extended up the upper limb into the shoulder and torso; and
3. the greater involvement of muscle units provided more kinesthetic feedback to rhythm - participants could feel the rhythm better.

A mark of how well their rhythmic foundation was laid came with a particular question, "do we play 'swish' or 'tight' tones?" It provided clear sign of good cognitive capacity, motor articulation, self-reflexion, musicality, experimentation, synthesis, and creativity - all of which are upper-tier properties in Bloom's taxonomy.

My response was, as usual, "it depends." The two main factors were: whichever the maraquero/a felt best suited the music; and whether the style of playing would help or hinder playing at higher tempi.

This session completed the basic vocabulary of back-beat rhythms for solares participants. A landmark moment. But we're just one step away from greater things.

Loo Yeo

A Musician's Relationship

"So why is it that playing a different rhythm, even a very closely-related one, causes the performer to listen to different things in the music?"

We began by interpreted the audible tones of the conga's tumbao moderno on the (more easily accessible) shakers. That exercise is designed for participants:

1. to know, actively, where the tones are located in the music; and,
2. to feel where those tones were relative to the embodiment (dance) timeline.

As proficiency increases, the actual tones of the conga in the music become obscured through the phenomenon of 'sonic masking'. This results in two displacements:

• the conga tones become inaudible, replaced by the sound of the shaker, and
• the participant assumes the position of the conguero within the context of the song.

Visualise the stage
In an example salsa ensemble, the (in this case, female) conguero is located at the centre of the stage. Immediately to her left is the timbalero, and beyond the timbalero, the bongosero, To her right is pianista, behind-right is the bajista. The metalles are arranged in an arc, curving from the bongosero's left, on the far side of the stage, to behind the timbalero. The singers playing percusión menor are in front.

The role and relationships of the conguero
When Arsenio Rodriguez brought his brother Israel a.k.a. 'Kike' into his ensemble to play tumbadoras (congas), he discovered that incorporating the drums increased rhythmic stability. When performing as conguero, I lock with the piano player's montuno and the bass player's tumbao, facilitated by clave phrasing. Then I listen to the vocalist. The congas provide the bedrock of percussion on which the timbales ride.

The role and relationships of percusión menor in boogaloo
My personal experience of the New York boogaloo (see Commentary: 13th June 2009 Joe Bataan @Rumberos, The Wardrobe, Leeds) changed the way I listened to the genre. Joe Bataan distilled the genre down to its very essence: just vocals and piano, punctuated by backbeat accents from hand-claps or tambourine. When I'm on hand percussion expressing the backbeats (clapping hands, shaking tambourines) I put the piano and vocals foremost; letting my backbeats frame the bubbly piano, and provide percussive counterpoint to the vocal interjections. Bandleader Pucho Brown famously described New York's boogaloo as "cha-cha (sic) with a backbeat", a sentiment I agree with. If the ensemble is interpreting boogaloo in this way, then I let the accents perch on top of the conga's tumbao, and lock with the chachachá bell on the timbales.

Rationale
Salsa musicianship, and some approaches to its dancing, adheres the African aesthetic of 'individuals performing in unity' (Farris Thompson, 2011). To achieve this, co-operative musicianship is exercised where each musician plays his/her part of the story, co-ordinated through the clave-pulse relationship, which all combine to present the whole. Thus:

Each musician knows his/her part relative to everyone else's.

A solares participant displacing the conguero would listen to the instruments to which the conga has a keen relationship. If that same participant where then to change rhythms and displace the percusión menor boogaloo performer, then the instruments listen to and related with will also change.

State of play
Two of the participants has had prior experience in ensemble playing, neither of them in the context of Afro-Caribbean music. I expect that they will build relationships with the most obvious instruments first: those commonly present and with the most similar roles in European music. Indeed, I'm targeting those first, as 'easy wins'.

We might be high up the heirarchy in Bloom's taxonomy, but that's just with two simple rhythms. The sobering thought is how to get there with the complex members of the various timelines.

Baby steps.
Loo

Reference
Farris Thompson, Robert (2011). Aesthetic of the Cool: Afro-Atlantic Art and Music. USA : Periscope Publishing.

Heads, Hearts And Hands

Last weekend, in between my DJing slots at ¡Parranda!, one of Solares' participants made a significant observation. It goes something like this (I'm paraphrasing):

"When I play the tumbao moderno rhythm, I listen to certain instruments. When I play the boogaloo rhythm, I listen to different instruments. Each rhythm I play, causes me listen to different parts in the music."

I've been waiting for that observation.

It indicates attainment in Bloom's: Analysis stage of the Cognitive (knowing/head) domain; the complex Valuing-Organisation stages of the Affective (feeling/heart) domain; and, the Perceptual stage of the Psychomotor (doing/hands) domain. Three other participants had alluded to being at similar points of development, but this was the first crystallised articulation.

From: http://institute-of-progressive-education-and-learning.org/k-12-education/the-progressive-era/
 All Rights Acknowledged.

It means that for the majority of Solares participants, they are well up the hierarchies. There is much more case-example to be learned to facilitate Synthesis (cognitive) and Characterisation (affective), but we are within the threshold of Skilled Movements (psychomotor).

That tells me where they're at. Next, I have to explain the observation.

Loo

A Dancer's Approach To The Tumbadoras (Tumbadora Session One)

I learned to play the tumbadoras or congas descriptively. At that time, the resources available presented the information as: this is how you set up, these are the tones, these are the rhythms. By learning the rhythms as set patterns (they were, in fact, routines) it took a lot of effort to liberate myself from them afterwards. Experience told me that as a percussionist-dancer, I also needed to know what the tones meant in the various positions of the rhythm stream; and what where the precursor proto-rhythms which combined to give rise to the tumbao moderno.

Why? So that I could understand it as a flexible, living, breathing, thing that could be played and played with.

Principles
To learn musical expressions interpretable on the tumbadoras, as a plastic aesthetic driven by a cognitive-emotional approach

Objectives
To develop an appreciation of the history of rhythmic expression, as a context for understanding where the important tones are, why they're important, and subsequently the points of flexibility in rhythm timelines.

Learning Outcomes
The participant would be able to derive the tumbao moderno from first principles.
He or she would be able to explain and demonstrate each step of the derivation.

Further Aims
The dancer would be able to sychronise his or her dance timeline to tumbadora rhythms musically.
The dancer would be polycentrically articulate.
The dancer would be capable of African and European phrasing simultaneously.

So that's how we started this afternoon's one-to-one tumbadora session.

Setup
Seated position. Two drums (requinto and conga). High-pitched drum between the legs controlled by thighs and ankles. Low-pitched drum on the dominant side. Both drums playable with the dominant arm by pivoting, without displacement, at the elbow. Minimising movement improves timing consistency.

Tones and Tone Practice
Open. Heel. Toe. Open slap. Closed slap. Bass.
Marcha: heel-toe alternating sequence played with hand resting on the skin (Cuban style, preferred) compared to hand pivoting above the skin (Colombian style).

All exercises were performed two-person as a dialogue of 'coro-pregón' ['call and response']. All exercises began at the start of the African rhythm cycle (European count of beat 4). One bar phrase. Numbers in curved brackets () correspond to the European beat count.

Exercise One (dialogue total: 1 inter-drummer; 0 intra-drummer)
Drummer A: open tones (4, 4+)
Drummer B: heel (1) toe (1+) [marcha]
Drummer A: open tones (2, 2+)
Drummer B: heel (3) toe (3+) [marcha]
This creates the first 'call and response' dialogue between drummers. Inter-drummer dialogue.

Exercise Two (dialogue total: 1 inter-drummer; 1 intra-drummer)
Drummer A: open tones (4, 4+)
Drummer B: heel (1) toe (1+) [marcha]
Drummer A: open tones (2, 2+)
Drummer B: heel (3) toe (3+) [marcha]
Drummers A&B: foot pulse i.e. tap ball of foot, non-dominant side (1, 3)
Adding the foot pulse synchronises percussionists (drummers and dancers) to the master pulse, and develops bicentricity.
An additional, intra-drummer, dialogue is created in Drummer A between the foot pulse and the open tones.

Exercise Three (dialogue total: 1 inter-drummer; 2 intra-drummer)
Drummer A: open tones (4, 4+)
Drummer B: heel (1) toe (1+) [marcha]
Drummer A: open tone (2)
Drummer B: heel (3) toe (3+) [marcha]
Drummers A&B: foot pulse
Alternation of double open tones with single opens creates another intra-drummer dialogue, again in Drummer A. This adds an audible internal dynamic to the two-player rhythm.

Exercise Four (dialogue total: 1 inter-drummer; 3 intra-drummer)
Drummer A: open tones (4, 4+)
Drummer B: heel (1) toe (1+) [marcha]
Drummer A: open tone (2)
Drummer B: toe (2+) heel (3) toe (3+) [marcha]
Alternation of a two-stroke marcha with a three-stroke marcha creates an intra-drummer dialogue in Drummer B. This adds an (in)audible internal dynamic to the two-player rhythm.

Exercise Five (dialogue total: 1 inter-drummer; 3 intra-drummer)
Drummer A: open tones (4, 4+)
Drummer B: heel (1) toe (1+) [marcha]
Drummer A: slap tones (2)
Drummer B: heel (3) toe (3+) [marcha]
Although there is no increase in dialogue dynamism, the substitution of a slap stoke for the open tone (beat 2) - short impulse instead of long impulse - changes the nature of the dialogues qualitatively.

Exercise Six
Drummer A: open tones (4, 4+)
Drummer A: heel (1) toe (1+) [marcha]
Drummer A: slap tones (2)
Drummer A: heel (3) toe (3+) [marcha]
This is the state of independence. One drummer plays both roles: the reason why the tumbao moderno is 'modern' i.e. the number of drummers have been reduced in response to commercial pressure. To be true to the rhythm's feel, the single drummer must phrase and dialogue as if (s)he were two separate players.

Contrasting Activity

The stability and groove of any tumbao rests on the ability of the inaudible (in full ensemble) marcha of the non-dominant hand. Traditionally, the heel stroke would fall on the whole notes (4,1,2,3) and the toe stroke on the 'and' counts (4+,1+,2+,3+). An exercise for developing a feel for African phrasing involves (to music):

• beginning marcha with toe stroke on count 4+
• ending marcha, after one bar or more, with heel stroke on count 1
• maintaining foot pulse as a constant timeline, even during cessation of the marcha

Total duration of session: two hours.

Loo Yeo

Timbale Landmark - The First State of Independence

Last night's band practice marked the passing of a huge milestone. It was the first time I was able to cue the transitions with the abanico, play cáscara and clave (either flavour) in the pre-montuno, timbale bell and clave in the montuno AND sing lead vocals at the same time.

I know it's taken a little longer than anticipated but I think I can justify it, what with having so many projects going on at the same time, and give myself a wee pat on the back. So what next? The most immediate is being able to play bongó bell (left hand) and timbale bell (right) whilst singing. Having just practiced it for a couple of hours just now, I can do it already... minus the singing.

After that, it's sorting out how to play the maraca and güiro rhythm on the hi-hats a la Mike Collazo; then with cáscara, then plus singing.

In the meanwhile Catie has been keen to add congas to her arsenal of musical instruments; and this is a fantastic opportunity to explore rhythmic movements together - like mozambique and songo. Plus I'm sure there'll be a healthy amount of 'chop-building' ahead.

My dance partners, old and new, are very much aware of these developments even if they don't exactly know why. As I said to Emma the other night, 'It's a shame to have so many rhythms playing and to use only one'.

Loo

Listening in Rome

"...a phasing effect with the very early reflections". One bit of sentence told me that Bob Katz works on a completely different plane altogether.

The thought of listening for this audio artefact had never troubled my mind; and even knowing what to listen for, I could only just make it out in the studios at home and at Red Tape. Having said that any feedback on Corazón Fugitivo's 'Rome Calling' mix would yield new and valuable information, this innocuous-looking snippet was a complete game-changer - telling me that I would have to send the salsa album to Florida for mixing as well as mastering.

That was the day before Rome.

I walked into the Auditorium della Discoteca di Stato on a wondrous Wednesday morning to be greeted by the lovely Andrea and Laura assisting none other than the flame-haired Mary Kent, author of "Salsa Talks". It was a great thing finally to meet and connect over salsa, as my attendeeship to "Bob 'Til You Drop" (BTYD) was being processed. Indeed, over the next three days I consider myself fortunate to have had so much of Mary and Bob's time to talk about things other than and including salsa dancing and music.

Loo... certified by Laura and Andrea

BTYD was a brain-melter of a workshop.

The early part of the morning dealt with ear-training; listening to several audiophile recordings and understanding how they were achieved. After the mid-morning break, it was into mastering software and workflow. Lunch was delish; an outside catering company had set up in the old courtyard with benches laden with classic Italian cuisine, and there we mingled - engineers, producers and musicians alike - under white canopies in the bright early summer sunlight. Then it was back into the fray to ruminate over the main tools of mastering and their effects. By the time those essentials were covered, space in the schedule for mix evaluations had run out.

If there were to be one slight regret, it would be that (frankly, all of us were hostages to the effects of saturation by then). It was more than compensated for by the company of warm, open, like-minded talents like Pierangelo, Federico and Samuel - musicians and audio experts in their own right.

Bobbin' 'til we were a'droppin'
(back, left to right) Pierangelo Troiano, Bob Katz, Federico Simonazzi
(front, left to right) Samuel Gaehwiler, Loo Yeo
Photograph courtesy of Mary Kent. All rights acknowledged.

Bob had kept up a lively, engaging patter throughout the day. It's not easy to run a full-dayer like that; his slight frame surely hid a deep well of stamina to draw upon. What I can say is that Mary and Bob hosted, presented, managed and delivered the workshop with not inconsiderable style. It is certainly one to go to again.

The next two days of 'Rome Calling' were more technically based on broadcasting and, despite being focussed on loudness normalisation as per European Broadcasting Union's Recommendation 128, had more than enough of the good stuff for the general producer and engineer. I came away with a feeling of being privileged to have engaged with unassuming people at the top of their game, the likes of Florian Camerer, George Massenburg, Thomas Lund, and Alessandro Travaglini. George especially, still communicates energy, enthusiasm, curiosity and wonder in all things to do with sound, music and people.

I have also an elevated respect for TC Electronics, headline sponsors and organisers of the 'Rome Calling' Audio Seminars, a company with so much class that it chose not to emblazon its presence in every nook and cranny. Instead, everyone from TC Electronics adopted understated roles of facilitators/advisors. Deserved plaudits go to them all.

And salsa still proved relevant to this entire context. Rome Calling affirmed several things. Foremost, a number of the demonstration pieces selected by Bob and George were Latin; in private conversation it sparked considerable interest when we discovered that it was an area I worked/played in. Afro-Cuban and Latin music has stature amongst the audio elite.

Just as invaluable was the chance to hear the personal story, about: why Mary embarked on "Salsa Talks" and how it resonates with my position with Víspera, and what she's working on now; Bob's insights into the remastering of the Fania back-catalog; and George's work with Cándido Camaro and Linda Ronstadt.

BTYD in the Eternal City.
Photograph courtesy of Mary Kent. All rights acknowledged.

Salsa is such a rich sustaining world that it's easy to be drawn in and become cloistered within it. Rome was a landmark event, to step out and to look back, and to savour it as appreciative outsiders do, if only for a short while.

Loo Yeo


For more about Loo's sojourn in Rome, visit the public photo album links (by Facebook) below:

• Rome Calling! (Part One)
• Rome Calling (Part Two)
• Rome Calling (Cittá del Vaticano)
• Rome Calling (Part Three - The Spectacular Sights)
• Rome Calling (Part Four - One More Story)
  

Doing The Hard Stuff

It feels as if everything that's happened over the past few years has culminated in preparing me for this one moment - taking on the challenge of being lead vocalist and timbalero at the same time.

If I were a believer in the Fates, I would say that it was their hands that had wrought it so, because all the key elements are in place:

• The Festive lull - unlike most households, the Christmas and New Year period is a relaxed, introspective period after the frenetic activity of late-November to early-December;
• The first cut pass of Víspera's songs have just been completed - the mixdowns provide the most context-accurate material to play to;
• Playing of the timbale ride patterns is on the verge of being naturalised - a sustained effort has freed up enough cognitive overhead to process vocals as well, resulting in three (possibly four) way independence - vocals, clave, shell or bell pattern (pulse marked with a foot);
• Compelling reasons for doing so - for the sake of the band, a timbalero adds more percussive weight to the ensemble, helps define the song's structure, and gives Whib our conguero someone closer to play off; for the sake of Víspera, I'll be having to lay down new and replacement timbale recordings.
  

The first stage of developmental independence is to be able to sing, play the rides and cue the transitions; with the target time being mid-January when band practice resumes. Having just done two evenings worth of solid practice, progress has been good using the cáscara, son clave in the context of one song, 'Hijos de Cam'. So much so, that 'Corazón Fugitivo' gets the cáscara and rumba clave treatment tonight.

Most of all, I'm curious and excited to find out what unexpected gifts this atypical-and-not-particularly-easy endeavour is going to do to my understanding of musicality and dancing.

Exciting times are happening right now!

Loo Yen

To Complete An Emotional Space

The past two months have been intense. The editing of 4 de Diciembre's music has, and continues to be, one of the most demanding challenges - on a par with setting up Verdant, and the completion of my postgrad thesis.

It's not that the recorded performances have been poor, in fact, it's been the converse. Most of the time's been taken up with the pain of deciding what to leave out - the Sonic Archaeology of revealing the essence of each piece.

But the most personally enlightening experience has been having to audition my own vocals listening to every positive and negative, over and over again, as they were chronicled three years ago. Many people I know are uncomfortable with the actual sound of their own voices. With the recordings, this is magnified and relentless. It's harsh medicine.

What were considered good takes then, many performances and tough experiences later, I can better. And with the audio having been aligned, cleaned up, and arranged, the four songs done so far deserve a stronger vocal. As top music producer Richard James Burgess says in his book "The Art of Music Production", a great vocal is the next biggest asset after the quality of the song itself. Mr.Burgess goes on to describe what is meant by a great vocal; and it's not about the technique, although that helps the chances of recording one. Bob Dylan's grammy-winning one wasn't technically perfect - the producer tried for a correction with a 'punch in', but eventually had to abandon the attempt because the emotion couldn't be re-created.

To let the cat out of the bag, I'd been delving into this aspect of performance for months and there are several book reviews to follow. They all offer valuable advice and insight, but the reality of willingly placing oneself in a position of emotional vulnerability can only be done by one person. It's anathema to what we're used to socially. At least it is to me, coming from an East Asian society where cards are played close to the chest.

So it's baby-steps to overcome a giant hurdle (in the Soft Arts, one learns very early on that the hardest thing to overcome is one's self) beginning at band practice, where my vocal's being positioned to 'complete' an emotional space. I've chosen not to mention what I'm doing to my band-mates, so that I might gauge their natural responses; which has been subconsciously positive. The sessions have, in the main, been musically easier and convivial - possessed of a substantial anchoring point.

There's yet a long way to go, but I forsee the vocal re-recordings to take place first quarter of 2011 at the earliest. My voice should be stripped of its defenses by then.

Loo

Predictable Outcomes

The core members of 4 de Diciembre have been together for a decade, and you would've thought that I'd have the measure of them by now. But even after all this time they conspire to surprise me.

We've been booked for a prominent gig next year, and with such a supposedly-distant horizon, the inclination is take things at a sedentary pace. I certainly didn't want that to happen. To stop the claws of complacency from digging in, I sat the band down and sketched a vision of the ideal playlist; a challenging roadmap if you will, of the best I thought we could be by that time. It's essential for everyone to understand and share the same vision; 'buy-in' is key to maintaining a healthy ensemble.

Two pieces of the puzzle to be put in place were a couple of cover adaptations: 'La Gota Fría' based on Carlos Vives' version, and 'One World' by local Sheffield band 'Boy On A Dolphin'. When suggesting these, I thought the former would pose the greater challenge; we'd never tackled a vallenato before, whereas the latter bore more familiar motifs.

We tackled One World first, and my optimism soon got bogged down in the quagmire of frustration - its chord structures, the very thing that made it interesting, didn't fit the modal system that underpins salsa. There was also dastardly a one-chord vamp section that had Jeremy scratching his head in trying to keep it more tasty than musical cardboard. He and I consigned two Sunday afternoons to the salsa wastebasket before I tried something out of the box of Desperation.

I slapped on a version of Xiomara on the CD player and proceeded to sing One World's lyrics over two different sections of piano montuno. Jeremy and I are of very different music backgrounds and have highly contrasting approaches to salsa, which has always been our strength. The most important thing I had to do was to demonstrate what was possible. He got it. We spent a few minutes determining which was the more suitable base progression, changed some chording to double its cycle length, and we had it! What was looking like an attempt I might have to bin, transformed into a song of promise; and one which we were well on the way to making our own.

Decent quasi-salsa songs in English are as rare as hen's teeth and One World, with its different harmonic textures and meaningful lyrics, complements any of 4de12's originals perfectly. It was a relief to crack it and be able to add it to our stable.

Given the birthing troubles of One World, I was a little gun-shy about approaching La Gota Fría last night. That's probably why I left it until the last thing at practice, almost as an afterthought.

One pass of the song, lasting all of three minutes and thirty-two seconds, was what it took to nail the core of it. That included transformation to salsa piano vamp over a hypnotic jungle-inspired conga rhythm, glued together by a funk variation of the classic bass tumbao, while still holding true to the spirit of the piece's energy and melody of haunting undertones. The latter is preserved by Catie on the flute and the adaptation of the accordion's lines to Jan's violin. On hand percussion, I found that the cumbia's güira rhythm on the gourd scraper worked best.

What an astounding experience.

True, plenty more creativity and work will have to be exercised before these two songs will be polished to my satisfaction. But at least I can now envisage it happening, whereas I couldn't before. And the band-members do so too.

Only one thing is certain: that the mercurial talents (and I can think of no more apt a description) of my fellow Decemberists will conspire to keep me safe from predictable outcomes.

Loo Yeo

Right Brain, Left Brain, And The Grey Bits In-Between

I've just passed the finish line of my four-week commitment to the timbales, and what have I learned? The most important has been a reinforcement that building a foundation for the realisation of ultimate potential is a painstaking process. Males like myself are largely task-driven and, were I to accede to the desire to be ready to perform at the earliest opportunity, I'd specialise as a right-hander, target the commonly deployed patterns and bypass their variations - a timbale synonym for the social dance environment.

Luckily, I'm not your average bear.

The complete approach to the fundamentals would include pitting cáscara and timbale bell rhythms against rumba and son clave, in both 3-2 and 2-3 orientations, sinistrally and dextrally. It immerses both hemispheres of the brain in every rhythm, fine-tunes the motor control (especially of the non-dominant side), and allows a comparison of phrasing.

Additionally, since research increasingly holds the cerebellum as the seat of timing, see for example:

• Ivry, R.B. and Keele, S.W. (1989). Timing functions of the cerebellum. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience. Vol.1:2, pp.136-152; and
  
• Pollock, B., Gross, J., Kamp, D., and Schnitzler, A. (2008). Evidence for Anticipatory Motor Control within a Cerebello-Diencephalic-Parietal Network. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience. Vol.20:5, pp.828-840;

it makes perfect sense to exercise it with the motor cortex in all possible combinations. I estimate the difference in effort between the complete approach and the task-driven approach, to the First State of Independence, as being in the ratio of 5:1. A large portion of that is in developing the fine motor control of the sub-dominant side.

And that's where I'm at, at the end of the beginning - killing three birds with one stone. Interpreting the timbale bell rhythm (subdominant) against rumba clave (dominant) in the 3-2 orientation; changing sides one in every four times, varying the phrasing and increasing gradually the tempo.

I'm in it for the long-term relationship, and I have my inspiring secondary school biology teacher to thank for this robust approach; although I suspect that Mr. Menon would never have anticipated this particular application.

Loo

Playing The Silences

Two weeks of standing in front of the timbales and I'd love to describe progress as being superhuman. But I can't. 'Steady' is the best I can muster. But then, there's always next week...

The lion's share of the hours have been devoured by the fundamentals - I've approached this little escapade as somewhat of a restart, a chance to put the perfection of hindsight and years of accumulated experience into practice.

How many times have we uttered the phrase "if only I knew then, what I know now" and had the opportunity to do it all over again?

I'd decided long ago that closed strokes, sometimes called press strokes, would form the backbone of my playing. This is when the timbale sticks stay on the shells after each strike to mute their ringing. It's decidedly old school, from back in the days of the danzón when the dance salons of Cuba knew nothing of microphones. Timbales were played in this way so as not to overpower the delicate violins, just perfect for 4de12's charanga line-up and the confines of the practice room.

Old Skool is a patient person's game; it takes more energy to perform and takes longer to learn. But what it yields are greater dynamics and more articulate expression.

The dynamics come from a greater contrast between the sound of the initial strike and the silence of the shells being closed to ringing - the timbalero plays the silences. The articulation comes the way the sticks come off the shell, either: straight off; or slightly rolled off, towards or away from the drummer.

Its brought back early memories of training as a dancer: learning to thread movement through each floor contact; and why foot placements, on and off, are more articulate than footfalls. The principles are identical: minimise movement to achieve consistency, and lessen background noise so that actions can be clearer without needing to be louder.

Dancing the silences draws your partner into your sense of time.

Playing the silences does the same. The technicalities might be different, some analogous some not, but both are also alike in requiring an exacting level of detail at fundamental level for success. With the timbales, for example:

• control resonance by striking the shell directly opposite the rubber stand-off, so that vibrations travelling clockwise and anti-clockwise have identical distances to travel;
• sense the stand-off through the timbale sticks when the shell is placed under different levels of compression;
• the sticks must become extensions of the hands, where the position of the tips and the speed of their movement are known even when they're unsighted; and
  
• know which part of the stick gives the best feel of the stand-off, the best sound, and the most versatility in voicing.
  

I can be a better musician because of my dancing. And there is much that can be transferred between the two.

Particularly with silence.

Loo Yeo

A Reason For The Timbales

The past three months have been a musically busy time, as I've been leading 4 de Diciembre through a comprehensive series of new arrangements. The outcome has surpassed even my best expectations; good songs have metamorphosed into artistically compelling works - it has to be put down to working with a collection of great musicians. During this period, I've had at various times to play (while singing) a variety of rhythms on congas (such as guaguancó contra-clave, songo con marcha, mozambique) and on hand percussion (timbale bell, clave) to tease out the right groove.

Along the way our little revamp-fest exposed a pair of Achilles' heels which might one day stunt my growth as a rumbero/salsero: that my command of clave was not yet instinctive, and that I was still an eighty pound weakling in the rhythmic independence department. Playing clave is a world away from clave phrasing, and I used to think that the phrasing bit would be more difficult to achieve, since you'd have to keep both the clave and what you were playing in mind. I was wrong.

What I learned was that it takes a stellar level of ability to make those five notes sing - in that rhythm there is no hiding place.

To achieve mastery, I needed to play it more often. And it'd have to be 'extra-curricular' with respect to the band, since the hand percussion I play when performing is necessarily pulse-based for the sake of the dancers, and it also sets up the rhythmic structure in which our conguero can improvise. An exception to this rule is "Tempest", one of our newly (re)arranged songs, which now works best with the timbale bell pattern played on the mounting block of my trusty bongó bell.

So to recap, I needed to work on my independence, internalise clave, and play highly syncopated bell rhythms. What might be the best way of doing this?

hmm...

My anticipated restoration to the timbales has been an on-and-off lunchtime topic of conversation with Christophe who, as a dancer, could anticipate a number of benefits:

• The ability to tune in better to the polyrhythms of the instrument, understand its phrasing, and become more sensitive to transitions and their cues.
• Use dance movement and music as mutually supporting activities in evolving soloing strategies.
  
• Increasing four-way independence to five (a giant leap for a percussionist dancer).
• Timbales interpret at least two rhythms if not three, as compared to the congas' one. A window upon hybridity, the timbale domain not only encompasses the AfroCuban domain, but intersects others like pop/funk/rock.
  

And, it's the last major piece of my recording project jigsaw which has been in hiatus. The only thing holding me back was the commitment - I needed to schedule three weeks of daily high-quality practice to establish momentum.

But as I say to my students, "people always make time for what they feel is important".

Was it important enough for me? How much of this was 'comfort zone' resistance?

On Saturday, I went upstairs and unpacked the timbales.

I'm actually lucky enough to possess two: as custodian of the band's Latin Percussion (LP) Tito Puente timbales in brass, the industry reference standard; and my own personal Meinl Luis Conte timbales in cymbal-quality brass. I've had the Luis Conte ones for four years, and had every intention of playing them, but then 4de12 suddenly needed a lead singer. The rest is history.

So, as it transpires, I've never laid a stick on them; that was a pleasure left for our former timbaleros. Considering the LPs and the Meinls side-by-side, it took five minutes to decide on the Meinls:

1. I like the larger shell area for playing the cáscara (something which LP addressed in latter revisions).
2. I prefer the sound of the shells - their hand-hammered surface has a warmer sound, and strikes have body and yet can cut through the mix.
3. Most importantly the Meinl shells are more sensitive, less forgiving of inconsistent technique. They would take longer to master but, being more articulate, will reward more musical players.
4. Of all the cowbells that were in the house to constitute a timbale set-up (I've mugged enough cows for four sets), the Meinl ones best suited the sound of the timbalero that I will be.
   

In the best AfroCuban tradition, I cleaned away the neglect of the set's previous caretakers, selected my bells, adjusted the heights and angles, and prepared a place of commitment in the front room.

Then I washed my hands and began to play.

Loo Yen

13th February 2010 Stomp@The Lyceum, Sheffield

On a brisk winter's Saturday morning, I sauntered into the Box office of the newly re-fitted Crucible theater. It's the Eve of the Year of Tiger, which I thought was a fantastic reason for an unplanned matinee ticket - I'm quite the impulse shopper when it comes to Shows, and a decadent afternoon sounded like a perfect way to usher in Chinese New Year.

"And I'll have one for Stomp as well, please," I heard myself say after securing a seat for my intended target, 'Pasión de Buena Vista' on the day-after-tomorrow.

Stomp are a performance company of percussionist dancers, and their acts unfold in the setting of an urban street, which gives what they do a modern yet accessible context. The eight protagonists assume delight in using everyday items as drumming surfaces; masking, or more appropriately bridging the gap between the drummer and the layperson - using a disposable lidded cup with straw as a friction drum instead of a cuíca; halved plastic storage drums as surdos; matchboxes as pandeiros; and brooms as, well... brooms.

I'm still wondering how they managed to tune the brooms, or maybe was it the floor panels?

Stomping: Drum and Bass

The structure of their story-telling began with the simplicity of a headed broom: its bristles on the floor as scraper, its head on the floor as drumstick, and its handle against another as woodblock. There was a restrained elegance about the opener - as if to draw in but not to overwhelm; to engage and gently challenge the assumptions of the audience, causing them to think again about what everyday objects mean; to see the humour of invention.

This was the theme as the rhythms and use of ordinary items became increasingly complex - the cheeky, almost impertinent delivery kept the seated enthralled, warding off the clutches of technical estrangement.

The Lyceum's spaces swelled with rhythm: I noticed flavours of Brazil's batucada; Bali's gamelan; the sartenes of the comparsa; hints, perhaps, of the Dahomey; to the gumboots of South Africa. Not that it matters. Stomp succeeds because it understands that the minutae of names and techniques of rhythms aren't important, but that in the grandest scheme of things, our most primal selves understand and respond to rhythm.

Gumboots: This is how ya do it!

The Energy of their performance spans the continents. And the maturity of their company can be seen in the slickness of their delivery; geographical reach from South Africa (gumbootland) to the United Sates; demographic independence of young and old alike; and diversity of activity in entertainment and education sectors.

Stomp uses the narrative of rhythm to show us how much fun we could let into our daily lives if only we'd wear different eyes .

"This is comedy, but its music too" (The Independent)

As a percussionist, the show was a reassurance of how far my understanding of rhythm: its power, types, and strategies; has come along. But I received the most counsel in the aspect of the dancer.

Analysis of salsa class levels reveals the convention that dancers are judged to be better according to their ability to execute complex combinations - that criterion is the prime class differentiator, clubs and congresses alike.

Stomp demonstrably validates an alternative premise: that someone can make him or herself instinctually understandable by another, at a level which transcends abilities and conscious command, by quieting the extraneous that the rhythms may speak.

A polyrhythmic expressionist who can command the silence.

Loo Yeo

Act of Creation

Bloom's Taxonomy describes a hierarchy of learning achievement which educators might use to benchmark the progress of a student. As a self-learner, I use it as a core tool to classify, quoting from the above link, "the different objectives that educators (i.e. myself) set for students (i.e. myself)." Not only does it chart my movement through a hierarchy of development, but it manages one of the greatest hurdles to self-instruction - the NOT knowing of what's missing.

Being aware of what's missing means you know what it is and can go looking for it - you've already identified the outline of the absent piece. NOT knowing what's missing, however, is more akin to being unaware that a colour is missing from the spectrum. It means pockets of blissful ignorance that can spring up and bite you in the developmental derrière after you've passed them by.

Bloom's taxonomy goes some way to delimiting Unknown unknowns by asking questions from the developmental end-point, illuminating the darkness of the unknown from the perspective of a hypothetical subject-matter expert. The pinnacle of Anderson and Krathwohl's modification of the cognitive domain published in 2001 (my preferred variant) is 'Creating' - where the learner is capable of synthesising new knowledge within the domain. By asking myself all the time, "what pieces do I need in order to be able to create something?" I simulate the existence of a mentor. It goes a long way to protecting my delectable derrière from the Unexpected's fangs of ignorance.

On the second day of 2010, I entered that tier with the congas.

Gettin' It Together is a song that I penned four years ago, and it has since become one of 4 de Diciembre 's go-to numbers. By 'go-to' I mean that it's a frequent denizen of our playlist as the perfect get-out-of-jail-free card:

• it has a modern instead of traditional salsa vibe, great for varying the feel of a set;
• the lyrics are in English, so the British audience relates well to it; and
• we play it well with very little practice.

That last point is significant for two reasons: it indicates that Gettin' It Together must somehow connect with each band member at a personal level; and we've come to treat it with benign neglect like we might an obedient child, spending our energies on those seemingly more exciting or unruly.

As author of its lyrics, co-creator of its piano montuno, and originator of its bass tumbao, it would be fair to say that I would be the one with most insight into Gettin' It Together - how it is and what it could grow to be. Its conga marcha [rhythm] is based on the tumbao moderno and, while that was appropriate to my level of understanding at the time of conception, there was always a feeling unrealised potential. The dissatisfaction of "there has to be something better, I know it" gnawed more and more, until I at last gave my uncomplaining original its due care.

Scouring the pantheon of AfroCaribbean rhythms from comparsas to batucada, songo to plena, no delicate ankle could be found for the glass slipper. But the search was not fruitless; each step along the road led to a greater understanding of the ideal marcha's form: the movement of songo con marcha; the voicing of mozambique; a pocket of variability like the guaguancó's; accents on the rumba upbeat on the 3-side and the bombó; an option to accent the son or rumba ponché.

I wanted it all, because Gettin' It Together deserved a marcha with groove and freedom. More than that, it needed it. Time and again I've stood witness to how one single inspired change can unlock entire vistas of understanding in an ensemble.

It started as an 'Eureka!' moment of mental, then physical, vocalisation; followed by interpretation on the congas; and then an evaluation of its fit to a pre-recorded montuno and a mentally-modulated bassline. The new rhythm ticked every box on the ideal's wishlist. Looking up from the evening's solitary venture, my companion the minute hand had travelled but a quarter the clock's face. I've impudently dubbed the new rhythm Luzambique con marcha and can't help but feel that it's the herald of many good things to come (wait until my band-mates get a load of this baby).

Then came the realisation that I'd engaged with all the upper-level tiers of the cognitive domain...

Perhaps as a musician you might point out that being able to solo already falls under 'Creating', and that I'd already visited the pinnacle. Who am I to disagree? I would go further and contend that there are qualitative aspects within each tier. Starting off as a novice conguero I still recall the wonder I felt after playing the luscious Cándido's tumbao, thinking "such a divine talent he must have to create something so beautiful."

The transient, spontaneous Creativity of a solo is different to the articulate, immortal Creativity of a tumbao.

And in that, perhaps, is another act of knowledge creation: the idea that 'Creating' (and by logical extension every tier) broadly encompasses acts that may be qualitatively differentiated.

As for Bloom's taxonomy on dancing salsa, I'll leave that for another day.

Yeo Loo Yen

Retrospection: 4 de Diciembre's Course Through 2009

The critical success of our final concert in 2009 was the culmination, and validation, of painstaking analysis and committed team effort in what has been one of the most turbulent years of 4 de Diciembre's history.

Two singers (Ferret, Nathan) and a timbalero (Dan) moved on at the beginning of the year; while at that same time our brass section, Mike and Thom, expressed a desire for greater involvement in the musical direction of the ensemble. I was very pleased to hear this, relishing a wider range of inputs; and it was the ideal time to do so, as 4de12 would have to re-arrange most of its numbers and repetoire to reflect the strengths to our changed line-up.

We started putting the brass in more central positions: cueing openings and breaks, carrying the main harmonic lines, and setting out more areas for improvisation. But a combination of factors cropped up that affected the ability of both horn players to attend regularly; by the early second quarter of the year, the pursuit had stagnated. Knowing that we couldn't be prepared in time, I had no alternative but to disappoint Tony by informing him that we would not be able to play for him at the Engine Shed.

4 de Diciembre had featured so well in the year before, that a high performance level had become associated with our name - I knew we could only take to the stage again if we could satisfy or exceed that standard; and as prodigiously talented as Catie is, the ensemble needed a strong and regular musician to complement her magical flute.

That person turned out to be Jan Rens.

Being a founding member of 4de12 through its previous incarnation, he agreed to return and play - his violin in partnership with the flute completed us as a charanga sextet. In truth, we'd all never stopped playing together: I'd set up the Conjunto Laloma acoustic quintet in November '08 with Ana (bass, vocals), Catie (flutes), Jan (violin), Jeremy (tres, vocals) and myself (guitar, lead vocals) as a vehicle for the exploration of AfroCuban music from the fundamentals upwards.

My promise to them was that I would develop 4 de Diciembre's music on the same principles that had worked so well with Laloma. It was an easy one to make, as I believe to my core that it is the best way to play; and an easy one to keep, because every musician in the ensemble now felt the same.

The rebirth of 4de12 began over the summer, built on a conceptual foundation laid down by Laloma where each song was played, analysed, disassembled, rearranged, and prepared for public performance. It was painstaking work. To raise the stakes further, I also selected several covers for case study and as potential candidates for our playlist.

When I returned from the Far East at the end of September, we had a mountain to climb and three months to do it in. Group practices grew to thrice weekly to account for absences due to commitments to other bands (and in my case, teaching). It was my responsibility to plan the schedule to be ready on time; work with Whib in articulating new percussion rhythms; determine breaks, ensemble arrangements and sectional changes; support Catie's genius and Jan's moments of inspiration; and maximise Ana's practice times, as she was personally bearing a mammoth teaching load.

The result?

Cuatro de Diciembre delivered two highly articulate sets as a heavy-hitting sexteto, punching well above its weight. The successful strategies were based on those of Arsenio Rodríguez, whose conjunto commonly took on the Big Bands in 1930s Cuba.

We played not four, but five new covers to counterpoint our vast original material: "Buscándote", "Muévete", "El Reloj de Pastora", "Talento de Televisión", and "Ya Lo Sé"; which were all enthusiastically received. Many musicians will acknowledge how much of a challenge some of these numbers are to interpret well.

Every song featured new arrangements, some to within an inch of their lives.

It's considered poor form for an artist actively to solicit the views of his or her audience after a performance, so I didn't. But what was volunteered from the lips of those who had seen us last year, was that 4de12:

• played engaging songs at comfortable dance pacings;
• had beautiful arrangements; and
• possessed as full a sound yet was all-the-more dynamic.
  

I'm happy, and I'm satisfied.

Happy that that mountain of effort all of us put in, made such a noticeable difference. I'm satisfied that the music direction we're taking, building from AfroCuban first principles, is the right one.

Cuatro de Diciembre in its moment of truth

We're now back at the performance level of where we were a year ago.

Scratch that, we're better - as individual musicians, as ensemble players, with deeper roots. It is a special feeling to be sharing the stage as friends, ready to play at the drop of a hat. Few bands can cope with what many would regard as a seismic change in line-up, but it's a shining testament to the quality of 4 de Diciembre's musical core to come back and play better than before - in less than a single year.

Normally that would be enough, but through my teaching and this remarkable band, I got something more for Christmas... I got the chance to introduce good people to good people: Marco and Lina to Chris, Sue, Tony and Mary.

It's been a year to remember.

looyenyeo

El Reloj de Pastora

There are times when, as a musician, you can feel the potential in a song. It's a feeling of great promise as yet untapped, where every ounce of effort poured in will be rewarded in kind, now matter how much your own abilities grow. Such pieces are rare, gems to be treasured, nurtured even, and this classic composed by Arsenio Rodríguez is one. The example I selected for us to learn from is Sierra Maestra's fine interpretation; first for Conjunto Laloma, and lately for 4 de Diciembre.

'El Reloj de Pastora' is proving to be an inspired addition to our playlist. Its unusual key and lulling hypnotic quality of its harmonic progression; moving from B flat minor to A flat major, then transiting through F major on the return to the root, creates an interesting harmonic space for soloing - something the Decemberists have very much enjoyed. The challenge has been, and continues to be, the song's revealing simplicity and how we adapt it best to our instrumentation.

The lyrical theme is based on iteration and misdirection, and as such places heavy demand on a singer's ability to interpret and phrase. The high tessitura of the original key is a chance to develop the upper section of my vocal range, and thankfully 'El Reloj de Pastora' can accept a singing style slightly more laced with overt classical technique than most salsa numbers. The thematic subtexts; the metaphorical meanings that inform the phrasing, are taking a little more time to understand, because it's not literally about "The Shepherdess' Clock" - I read it as being about a something-someone's time.

As a personal journey, 'El Reloj de Pastora' is opening the way to a better understanding of the son and the son montuno. Yes, 4 de Diciembre are charanga-salsa in lineup, and I wanted to preserve that son montuno lilt despite the move to salsa instrumentation, but with a contemporary edge. Strangely enough, it was a stubborn desire both to play the slow rhythm on the güiro and to dance contratiempo while singing that provided a flavour of authenticity.

Nothing worth learning comes cheaply.

I found that the upper body güiro rhythm (one cycle per bar) and the lower body contratiempo rhythm (one cycle per two bars), provided the independent reference points necessary for rhythmic triangulation to solidify the vocal phrasing in the son montuno style. Managing the attacks of the vocals (early), güiro (middle) and dance (late) is awkward for now, but getting less so every day.

At least there's a clear course of development for this singing-güiroing-dancing escapade: moving to son montuno and then chachachá footwork.

©Copyright 2004 World Circuit. All Rights Acknowledged.

Manuel Güajiro Mirabal's version hasn't yet found its way into my lap, but it will once we've got a stronger handle on the groove - I've got a feeling that the trumpet ideas could well propel our playing of the song to new heights. After we've built up the basics that is. Until then, it'll have to twiddle its thumbs impatiently on my wishlist.

Santa... ¿porfi?

looyenyeo

Latin Percussion's Compact Congas

I've got a not-very-salsa-street-cred confession to make...

I've been lusting after a set of LP compact congas for a while; since they first appeared and won the 2003 Musikmesse International Press Award (MIPA) as a matter of fact. And six years is an awfully long time to wait, but finally the time was right to let a set into my front room.

The main driver is the sexteto format of 4 de Diciembre. I've had, with the agreement of Ana, Catie, Jan and Jeremy, to suspend Conjunto Laloma practices until the new year; giving over the time slots to 4de12 instead. This is to make sure we can be ready for our Middlesborough concert with Chris and Sue's SalsaYarm. In return, I gave my assurance that our ground-up approach to musicianship and arrangements embedded in Laloma's practices would persist into 4de12 sexteto.

The compact congas and bongo have come into play because it gives a wider palette of percussive sounds with a very small footprint. Since I've now taken a structural approach to playing güiro and bongo bell, it has allowed Wib to play more freely; the addition of more soloing surfaces goes a long way into offsetting the absence of a timbalero. There is also the opportunity for increased dynamics through the incorporation of contrasting son and pilón-style passages.

Future expandability's looking bright: without the presence of full-sized shells, there's room underneath to deploy pedal percussion (something Wib is very fluent with) like jamblock, cowbell, bass drum, triggered samples, hi-hats; and played with sticks, we could re-incorporate timbales with a bass drum and move to a songo-style sound. We'd have to move to practice rooms if we went down the latter route, but the set-up is very portable.

All this would have been for nought had the sound from the compact units had been of poor sound. There were some reservations: I figured that the open tones would lack sustain, body and warmth; biasing the way one played towards the dry slap strokes - my discussions with Karl of Electromusic (from whom I eventually purchased them) seemed to confirm that. However, Jeremy had played on them when he was in the States, and they had Giovanni Hidalgo and MIPA's endorsement on their side.

Latin Percussion's compact bongó and congas.
AfroCuban drums, but not as we know them

The promise of so much flexibility proved too much to endure, and so it was that the big LP stork placed the new baby into my arms last Friday. Tuning started that day and continued through most of 'Strictly Come Dancing' on Saturday, ready for use in anger on Sunday's practice. I took the time to settle the skins, made sure all the heads were tuned to each other, and most importantly of all, tensioned the heads for the fullest open tones.

Ana, Catie, Jan and Jeremy were mightily impressed. Catie called them 'space-age' thinking it weird that such a full sound could emanate from what was effectively a frame drum. I'm just as baffled. They play more like fibreglass drums: not a lot of warmth, but loads of projection and easy on the hands. The stands, although heavy-duty and double-braced, still flex a bit compared to a wooden shell under compression; and I had to adjust my strokes accordingly. They're so good that when it came time to discussing our transportation needs for Middlesborough, we all agreed that the compact units were the best choice for sound and space-saving.

My personal Brucie bonus is that bringing congas and bongó my salsa workshops is greatly facilitated. I'm looking forward to the greater liberty, spontaneity and interactivity that being unfettered from the CD player brings.

Long live innovation.

Loo Yen

Salsa Looming

This intrepid explorer's just barely touched down and already it's back into the fray. Five weeks have passed with just a slightest hint of Cuban rhythm and I'm faced with a full-on schedule preparing workshop materials for a weekender at Red Hat Salsa, and getting sexteto 4 de Diciembre fully lined up for a repeat Christmas concert further up north.

Sharon, the engine driving Red Hat in Reading, has yet to finalise a date - but it's going to be in about five weeks time when I make my way to deliver four workshops: two half-day ones and two 2-hour ones. It's all content that I'm consummately familiar with, but the key is in the structuring of it to minimise mental saturation. Sharon certainly doesn't lack ambition: the two half-day ones cover the entire extent of a full training-year of my teacher development programme (hence the concern over saturation). No doubt there'll be more blogging about it between now and then.

At the same time, I've got to prepare 4 de Diciembre, in sexteto format, for public performance. That's Ana (bass, vocals), Catie (flutes, vocals), Jan (violin, vocals), Jeremy (piano, vocals, clave), Wib (congas, bongó) and yours truly (lead vocals, hand percussion). The easy way would be to re-jig our set-lists slightly and gloss over the horn parts. The best way would be to lengthen each set by a song to account for shorter montuno sections; introduce the equivalent of a whole set of new material; and re-arrange the existing ones to make full use of the charanga format.

Where's the challenge in 'easy', eh?

Whatismore, we've chosen to cover some great but tough-to-interpret songs. Thankfully the guys have been plugging away at their individual parts, so we're quite some way down the road already - all this music director has to do is bring it all together. Piece of cake...

Loo

Musical Directions - 4 de Diciembre and Conjunto Laloma

It's been nice to get back to the business of playing music again... in a more committed fashion I mean. For the last few months it was a case of trying to keep things ticking over as much as I could, while chipping away at the mountain on my plate. The effect of my being torn between projects was felt more keenly in Conjunto Laloma (than Cuatro de Diciembre) for three reasons: the smaller line-up is more transparent to the impact of an individual's effort; we practice more often and at a skills-based level; and because I fulfil two central roles as singer and as provider of the rhythm stream.

During this period of time, Jeremy's progress as tresero has been very impressive; I told him the other day that he seems to speak more freely through the voice of the tres than the piano (and he's no slouch on the keyboard!) If anything it's been a relief to pick up the guitar in anger once again and do justice to their efforts - although like the true friends that they are, Ana, Catie, Jan and Jeremy have been the very ideals of support and understanding.

Yesterday, Conjunto Laloma gathered at Ana's place for a change; to practice and to share a meal together delivered from our favourite Chinese dispensary. There, I outlined what I saw as our starting set: American Sueño, Caminando, Chan Chan, El Carretero, El Reloj de Pastora, Lágrimas Negras, Montón de Estrellas, Ya Lo Sé and Yo Soy El Sonero; plans to solidify our arrangements and playing to a performance standard by the end of the year, and the strategy for improving our fundamental musicianship a lo cubano. The latter involved a launch into changes of rhythmic texture using of triplet motifs; it's been on the cards for months and I sensed that a convivial Sunday afternoon provided hot enough iron.

4 de Diciembre presents a differing range of challenges. Since the proportion of our line-up now leans more heavily towards the melodics than percussion compared to any point in our history, many arrangements are still being worked through. However with respect to the Latin style of playing, the knowledge-base which informs these arrangements comes from Catie and myself. Ideally Mike and Thom would be equally fluent with salsa idioms, and to that end I took the decision to recommend that we augment our playlist with more covers, which would add more textures and serve as case studies. Both our horns agreed that this was something they'd very much enjoy doing, so we spent the last practice session dedicated to finding which of my recommendations they found inspiring. As chance would have it they selected American Sueño and Caminando by La Excelencia; as well as Vacilar by Orquesta Gitano and Talento de Televisión by Willie Colón and Rubén Blades.

As music director, I'm very much anticipating the prospect of interpreting the same song with different line-ups; it seems a natural progression for someone with an interest in music arrangement. There are a couple of things in the periphery that we might try our hand at - a translation of Yerba Buena's El Burrito from a cumbia into a songo con marcha; or Calle Real's Ya Lo Sé into a full salsa arrangement, for example.

Time to stop with the words and pick up the action.

Hasta next time.

Loo Yen Yeo

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:

• 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'].

However that the guest musicians might not be fluent with the forms and conventions of the descarga, was an important consideration. Two additional moderation structures were put in place:

1. 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.
   
2. 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 Oye como va, we've drawn inspiration from the startling arrangements of Ernesto Estrada a.k.a. Fruko and the augmented lyrics of the great Celia Cruz's ultimate version.

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