When I heard that Los Van Van were coming to play again in the UK, I gritted my teeth in determination. The last time they were here was to promote "Chapeando" two years ago and although I'd already bought tickets, an urgent trip to the Far East conspired to make my first attempt an abortive one.
With a pair of tickets waiting in my hand for their Arrasando tour, the days in the weeks leading up to last Saturday felt like life lived beneath the Sword of Damocles. It was the strangest tincture of anticipation and dread. So as White Lights blazed onto stage searing away the echoing words "Los Van Van...", it felt as though something had finally been put right; an awkward picture-frame straightened.
It was clear from the recording that the title track had been written 'to purpose' as an opening number; and true enough, they opened up with "Arrasando" with the vocalists last to take to stage. This incarnation of Los Van Van featured the four lead vocals; two keyboards; three on tromobones, two of whom also doubled up on midi keyboards; bass; violin; flute; güiro plus backing vocals; congas; and bandleader Samuel Formell on trapset plus timbales. It was essentially the same setup as that most artfully captured in the "Aquí el que baila gana - in concierto" DVD recorded at the Karl Marx Theatre sans the stellar guest appearances, and the disappointing omission of Juan Formell. Mind you, he wasn't here last time either and I can only infer that either he's not too keen on these shores, or that these shores aren't too keen on 'im.
They were on for a good two hours and blew through a good deal of their new album, though sadly not the tracks I was more partial to. I recall only their nod to the Manhattan Transfer "Timpop con Birdland", Yenisel's remarkably interpreted "Después de todo", a favourite "Anda, ven y quiéreme", and their single encore "Esto te pone la cabeza mala" as hailing from previous recordings.
I wanted so desperately to be blown away, and was as desperately disappointed. I wanted to believe that this supergroup, whose influence has defined the music of two generations, could do no wrong. I got something worse than wrong, I got lacklustre with snatches of brilliance. And I'm very sad for it.
Some were giving it their all - Samuel on drums was a demon possessed; and Mayito.., the incredible Mayito sang as if the very Heavens demanded it of him. The rest, well, gave only what they were willing to give. In an ironic sense, it was reassuring to me. As a performer I have always given a hundred percent to an audience and would expect no less of myself and my colleagues, getting a trifle mardy when they don't. That some elements of Los Van Van chose not to commit themselves fully, emotionally, showed that it could happen in even the best.
Van Van's incomplete emotional engagement was brought into sharp relief completely by chance through the dancing of one very talented man - Lázaro Lopez of http://www.afrocubano.co.uk/. Invited on stage as a guest, he gifted us all with a startling display of rumba columbia as the physical expression of Mayito's singing and Samuel's drumming. It was a moment of pure, synchronised, perfect intent which will forever be a treasured memory. That he did this in a swish gray suit, intentionally or otherwise, was a semiotic comment which set the sociologist in me chuckling.
That Los Van Van are amongst the hardest-practicing and best-drilled of bands ever to emerge from Cuba, is entirely believable. That events transpired to affect their performance such that many of them had to rely solely upon their consistency, is entirely plausible. After all, it could be that the acoustics of the Roundhouse affected their foldback, definitely it did the atmosphere and perhaps the charge from audience that every performer feeds off.
[I had with me two friends whom between them share more than five decades of professional experience in vibro-acoustics. Both of them independently remarked about the degree of sonic 'smearing' due to uncontrolled reflections in the venue.]
Yenisel told the audience that this is the band's fortieth year in existence; no mean feat in itself, let alone remembering that much of this time was spent at the top. But I sense that the band is wrestling with its state of transition: from the loss of its old guard like César Pedroso, Pedrito Calvo, Jose Luis Quintana; the transfer of leadership from father to son Formell; re-negotiating its identity; and struggling with its relevance to modern musical life.
With the latter, it seems as if the young turks of Maikel Blanco and Tirso Duarte have their finger closer to the pulse. With the former, Los Van Van's new generation are immensely talented, foremost of them Yenisel, Samuel and Mayito. But good though they are, it's difficult to see where the next spark of creative genius, with similar stature to that of Pupy, Changuito, and Juan Formell himself, will come from.
Samuel is now the beating heart of Los Van Van. Whereas his father led the band with his bass from the front, Samuel drives it from behind with his kit at the back. I'm not convinced that it is not without flaw. Juan was able to exercise leadership, engaging directly with the band to maximise emotional involvement, but I don't think Samuel can do that with: his kit as a barrier, limited lines of visual communication with much of the band, and playing everything that he currently plays. Giraldo Piloto of Klimax is the only other bandleader in my recent memory who's in a similar position.
Frankly, as a participant of songo myself, I understand how important the inclusion of the trapset is to timba. But I think now that the pendulum has swung too far and the trap-set under Samuel has fractured a former equilibrium; sidelining the conguero and sending the dedicated timbalero out into the wilderness.
Should Samuel decide to lead more on-stage, he might replace himself on trap-set and move to timbales plus kick-drum in the style of Changuito, and put himself towards the front like Tito Puente did. This would give himself less to play and more cognitive overhead to energise. But that's just conjecture on my part, so just give me a moment to kick myself for my presumptuousness... thud. Yeeouch!
However what I DO know objectively is that there are three main differences between the concert captured on DVD and this one at the Roundhouse: the presence of the old guard, the repertoire, and the sound quality. How the original timba supergroup navigate future waters, I'll study with close interest. Some clues can be had from the above, but it is in the subjective area of how they interact with each other and make good their commitment to their audience that will have me perched towards the edge of my seat.
I tell my masterclass attendees and drummers alike that, "artistic endeavour distinguishes itself from the mechanical through its ability, or more its necessity in evoking an emotional response."
Had they all unified in "unbearable purpose" (Eddie Palmieri) as I hear Los Van Van can, there might have burned a terrible joy. Instead I'm feeling a mild shade of blue.
There's nothing I wanted more to do here than to gush over their brilliance. They are, after all, Los Van Van.
Loo Yen Yeo
Showing posts with label songo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label songo. Show all posts
Monday, March 09, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Songo Conguero (Part Two) - The Flows Of Left And Right
Two mince pies later and I was back at my desk.
Happily playing away to Los Van Van with my new toy, the properly located open tone had a transformative effect on my songo marchas: there was, all of a sudden, a relaxed yet powerful push in every other rhythmic space between the double open tones. But still, things didn't seem as they should be; there was a 'hard point' somewhere in my playing which was giving my songo the hiccups. This had to mean that I wasn't yet privileged with the full story despite the rephrasing - something was missing.
Fortified with plenty of currant-and-pastry-laden calories, I ventured out in search of the known unknown. Taking stock, I had:
I played them all and very soon they all merged seamlessly as one. It was a fabulous feeling to be drumming fluidly into to the music ...the ebb and flow of strokes between left and right was reminiscent of my dancing-jive days at the time when I was starting to master combination-building. Stress-testing what I had with the addition of more complex variations; the results, though imperfect through want of more practice, proved that the songo foundation could cope with everything I could lob at it: from breaks to songo con marcha to other pedals (rhythm families). Outlines of the groups to which the many variations belonged started to become discernible...
On Christmas day, my Songo shed its chains.
Loo Yen
Happily playing away to Los Van Van with my new toy, the properly located open tone had a transformative effect on my songo marchas: there was, all of a sudden, a relaxed yet powerful push in every other rhythmic space between the double open tones. But still, things didn't seem as they should be; there was a 'hard point' somewhere in my playing which was giving my songo the hiccups. This had to mean that I wasn't yet privileged with the full story despite the rephrasing - something was missing.
Fortified with plenty of currant-and-pastry-laden calories, I ventured out in search of the known unknown. Taking stock, I had:
- a basic marcha whose double-open tones were played with the dominant hand. It was capable of indicating clave orientation with an open tone, played with the dominant hand;
- a basic marcha whose second of the double-open tones was played with the non-dominant hand, which had no variations indicating clave orientation.
- second of double-opens non-dominant, clave orientation open tone with dominant; and
- second of double-opens dominant, clave orientation open tone with non-dominant.
- cis dominant: dominant 2-side, dominant 3-side;
- cis non-dominant: non-dominant 2-side, non-dominant 3-side;
- trans one: dominant 2-side, non-dominant 3-side; and
- trans two: non-dominant 2-side, dominant 3-side.
I played them all and very soon they all merged seamlessly as one. It was a fabulous feeling to be drumming fluidly into to the music ...the ebb and flow of strokes between left and right was reminiscent of my dancing-jive days at the time when I was starting to master combination-building. Stress-testing what I had with the addition of more complex variations; the results, though imperfect through want of more practice, proved that the songo foundation could cope with everything I could lob at it: from breaks to songo con marcha to other pedals (rhythm families). Outlines of the groups to which the many variations belonged started to become discernible...
On Christmas day, my Songo shed its chains.
Loo Yen
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Songo Conguero (Part One) - Locating The Rumba Clave Orientation Marker
I've been playing the tumbadoras for years now, and like most of the musicians I know, there have been niggles with my playing that I've borne for a very long time; niggles that I'd learned to live with in the mental interim until there was enough time to address them properly. We never seem to make the time... because that pesky Spectre of Something-Else-More-Urgent always seems to steal the moments set aside away. "Not this time you ain't", I resolved. "It's Christmas and you're not getting any!"
My greatest regret on these hand-drums has been that I'd never become a songo conguero. I can play a range of songo patterns but that's different; it's only descriptive (and as far removed from being the real thing as a move technician is from being a dancer). Over time, I'd come to understand theoretically how songo came about, what it was designed to achieve and some of the forms in which it manifested itself.
On Christmas day I decided to tackle my phrasing, specifically the clave-orientation marker. I had programmed myself to believe that its rhythmic location was similar to that of the note in a typical piano montuno (on the same beat) - an easy enough assumption to make, given my history as a pianist and my limited exposure to live drumming in a rumba context. It wasn't until I'd put on some of Los Van Van's live tracks and changed mental gears over to 'African mode' that it became clear how mistaken I'd been.
Trying the extremes of placement, it felt that if attacked too early, the note sounded like an echo of the first clave beat; too late and it was a lethargic introduction to beat two of the bar. Either way it was weak, failing to convey the sense of power that I knew had to exist in rumba. Unlike with piano notes, a conga's open tone swells after its initiation with resonance before it decays; and compensating for this proved to be the key. I timed the placement of the open tone such that the transition from crescendo to decrescendo formed a bridge linking beats one and two of the 3-side. The orientation marker thus emerged as a potent response to the call of beat one; acting as a complement to the clave, in contrast to the son forms where the orientation markers are generally in agreement.
It proved to be a significant revelation, not least in helping me keep track of clave orientation, but more so in opening the way to the fluid playing that songo requires of its interpreters.
I was to experience one more valuable gift on the day of December 25th.
On to Part Two.
Loo Yeo
My greatest regret on these hand-drums has been that I'd never become a songo conguero. I can play a range of songo patterns but that's different; it's only descriptive (and as far removed from being the real thing as a move technician is from being a dancer). Over time, I'd come to understand theoretically how songo came about, what it was designed to achieve and some of the forms in which it manifested itself.
- It broke the old rule of low drum on (clave) 3-side, with it being used to voice the double-open tones at the end of each bar (beats 4 & 4+) if you're European-trained. They'd mark the beginning of the cycle if you're and African drummer. This was the cyclic structure of the rhythm.
- Congueros should fill the space in between the double-opens on the tumba more freely, melodically even. Moving fluidly between variations and creating their own.
- The congas retained only part of their traditional role, taking on aspects from other percussion instruments, and redefining themselves to create rhythmic space for the integration of a trap-set.
- There's an optional clave-orientation marker - the first upbeat (beat 1+) on the clave 3-side, which is significant in rumba drumming.
On Christmas day I decided to tackle my phrasing, specifically the clave-orientation marker. I had programmed myself to believe that its rhythmic location was similar to that of the note in a typical piano montuno (on the same beat) - an easy enough assumption to make, given my history as a pianist and my limited exposure to live drumming in a rumba context. It wasn't until I'd put on some of Los Van Van's live tracks and changed mental gears over to 'African mode' that it became clear how mistaken I'd been.
Trying the extremes of placement, it felt that if attacked too early, the note sounded like an echo of the first clave beat; too late and it was a lethargic introduction to beat two of the bar. Either way it was weak, failing to convey the sense of power that I knew had to exist in rumba. Unlike with piano notes, a conga's open tone swells after its initiation with resonance before it decays; and compensating for this proved to be the key. I timed the placement of the open tone such that the transition from crescendo to decrescendo formed a bridge linking beats one and two of the 3-side. The orientation marker thus emerged as a potent response to the call of beat one; acting as a complement to the clave, in contrast to the son forms where the orientation markers are generally in agreement.
It proved to be a significant revelation, not least in helping me keep track of clave orientation, but more so in opening the way to the fluid playing that songo requires of its interpreters.
I was to experience one more valuable gift on the day of December 25th.
On to Part Two.
Loo Yeo
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Ear Training Tutorials
You wait ages and two come along at once.
Actually as of this writing, I've only released one: the last one of the series called "More Salsa Tumbaos". The other has already been written and I'm just waiting for Jeremy to finish the final track for it. Maybe he already has and will pass it to me tonight at band practice. We'll see. Good things come to those who wait, and Jeremy does only the good stuff.
The salsa piano tutorial has been the most sought after by far, although in recent months the email requests have been dying down. Understandable really, since I've been able to update the website only in fits and starts. What gave me the final push was the tremendous response from the musicality sessions of the 12th Night Salsa Extravaganza, where there was a genuine expression for the need of it.
I'm glad I took the time, instead of publishing it a year ago as I had originally intended. In the ensuing period, many more resources and reference materials have come to light that have radically reshaped the way I've written it. As I did more reading, out went draft after draft. The end result is the most complete I could make it for the intended audience, and I'm unusually content.
It does mean that I will have to write a further two tutorials in the advanced studies in rhythm section called "Rhythm Sense", which are both already underway. After having finished laying down all the lead vocal tracks, it's nice to have some time to get back into educative writing.
Release of the piano montuno tutorial will mean that only three proposed Ear Training ones remain. This might alter, but I'm looking into the possibility of deploying material from the recording project.
Now that is an exciting prospect.
Yeo Loo Yen
Actually as of this writing, I've only released one: the last one of the series called "More Salsa Tumbaos". The other has already been written and I'm just waiting for Jeremy to finish the final track for it. Maybe he already has and will pass it to me tonight at band practice. We'll see. Good things come to those who wait, and Jeremy does only the good stuff.
The salsa piano tutorial has been the most sought after by far, although in recent months the email requests have been dying down. Understandable really, since I've been able to update the website only in fits and starts. What gave me the final push was the tremendous response from the musicality sessions of the 12th Night Salsa Extravaganza, where there was a genuine expression for the need of it.
I'm glad I took the time, instead of publishing it a year ago as I had originally intended. In the ensuing period, many more resources and reference materials have come to light that have radically reshaped the way I've written it. As I did more reading, out went draft after draft. The end result is the most complete I could make it for the intended audience, and I'm unusually content.
It does mean that I will have to write a further two tutorials in the advanced studies in rhythm section called "Rhythm Sense", which are both already underway. After having finished laying down all the lead vocal tracks, it's nice to have some time to get back into educative writing.
Release of the piano montuno tutorial will mean that only three proposed Ear Training ones remain. This might alter, but I'm looking into the possibility of deploying material from the recording project.
Now that is an exciting prospect.
Yeo Loo Yen
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