Salsa Situation Report: 16th April 2008

I've just come off the back of a tutorial-writing frenzy, nine of them in ten weeks to be exact. It's been a gruelling schedule, but the self-inflicted ordeal was intended to clear the decks for more development.

Reading
Finish up the Deborah Pacini Hernandez's book on Bachata, then move on to Ned Sublette's 'The World that made New Orleans' and Max Salazar's 'Mambo Kingdom'.

Website
Complete the page on nomenclature; the '4 de Diciembre' pages on technical specifications, album details and gallery. Update the great salsa timeline and extended salsa glosssary. Design the ear-training case study.

Authoring
Research materials for an article on dance minimalism.

Playing
Naturalise transitions between time signatures on the congas. Increase vocabulary of AfroCuban genres and understanding of their underpinning rhythmic principles.

Educating
Solidify design of workshop material on salsa rhythms and timing. Sketch outline notes on a chachachá lesson, viewed as a resurgence of the son montuno.

That should be plenty for now.

Loo

Salsa Ear-Training Series Completed

It's done.

I was not sure this day would arrive... the day when I finished the Salsa Ear-Training series that I started three and a half years ago. But with uploading of the timbale rhythms tutorial, it's happened.

I was in a meeting with a colleague, Adrian, about the delivery of material on a new MBA programme a few days ago and we were talking about blogs, about how useful they were to the people who wrote them. More so perhaps than to those who read them (sorry, no offence intended). As I finished the file upload I took stock of just how much of a learning experience this has been. Similar to blogging, the writing of each lesson has brought its own rewards but the intensity of effort has been orders of magnitude higher: in design, planning, validation, and critical self-reflection.

And did it work out to plan?

Timbale shell strategy
©Copyright 2008 Loo Yen Yeo. All Rights Reserved.

I'd say so. The structure and progression must have been robust from the beginning, because no changes proved necessary over the fourty-plus months it took to complete. I would have liked to say that it worked out better than expected but I can't, because it was so highly specified in the first place (and you should be the judge of that) that exceeding the targets was never likely.

The design route of the learning section did assume unexpected changes of emphasis, to reflect the changes in the salsa scenes themselves - locally, nationally, internationally, and even transnationally. The original path, in my naïveté, was to have increasing levels based on dance vocabulary. However as more instructors came on the scene, plenty of vocabulary resources became available and there didn't seem much sense in reinventing the wheel. As a maturing instructor, I moved to skills-based learning - an adjustment which works better with the prevailing vocabulary-based environment. Salsa Level Two then became about helping people learn how to use rhythm, level three about using their bodies, and level four about bringing the body and rhythm together.

I don't think this process will ever end, the writing of lessons I mean. Nor would I want it to. But it's nice to have closure, albeit in a relativistic sense.

looyenyeo

12th April 2008 Dance Cubana@The Hillside Club, Nottingham

Out of all the gigs, this was one that I was personally most reluctant to do.

Thanks to Jane and Christophe's kindness, I'd been coming to Lloyd Dunkley's "Dance Cubana" salsa evening for a couple of years where I'd enjoyed the anonymity of being a simple salsa dancer, and his choice of music which I regard as being the best in the region. The latter is because he's a serious proponent of Cuban-style salsa and timba - subjects and musics very close to my heart.

And over that time, I'd come to be acquainted with a number of dancers whom I've become fond of; and the scene I danced in, which I enjoyed devoid of any prejudices that seem to come hand-in-hand with any heavy involvement in salsa. It all became moot when Lloyd asked for our availability to play on a double-bill with the superb son dancer and instructor Juan Carlos to commemorate Lloyd's birthday...

On the Saturday when we'd arrived at the Hillside Club, Blast PA had already set up most of their stuff. It just fell to us to bring on the instruments and soundcheck, which was a steady process unlike the mad hell-for-leather dash at Preston. This time Chris of Blast PA brought along the Yamaha LS9 digital mixer, a serious piece of equipment similar to the Mackie TT24 I'd been eyeing up for the recording project. It all went without a hitch, leaving time for a chat with Lloyd who was setting up his kit, and with Juan Carlos about Cuban dance genres before retiring to the dressing room.

A hint of concern did furrow my brow, "where's the hiccup that every gig should be plagued with?"

I changed and joined in with Juan Carlos' class, just a little something to relax and meet the dancers. Then Tony Piper of SalsaYork turned up and took over the DJ booth in the lead-up to our first set. I think he wanted to see what he was getting: we were going to be playing for him at the Engine Shed in a fortnight. The Hillside Club, by no measure a small place, was absolutely packed.

Opening with what is now our signature song "Nueva Generación", we powered our way through a 40 minute set with ease. Scanning the audience for levels of engagement, there were no signs of unease or distraction - the tempo was right and they were warming up very nicely indeed. 4de12 has a sound of its own, and like with all unique bands, it can take the listener a while to understand from which angle our music is coming from. (So much so, that opinions always indicate stronger groove in our second set; even when we swap setlist songs around.)

Still no hitches. It was starting to give my brain an itch.

Joining the dance floor during the interval, I spied Leslie and I broke my "no dancing in between the sets" rule. Leslie, I would describe as a great mover with an amusingly dry wit.

She asked me whether the band had been on already, to which I replied that the first set had finished and there was another yet to come. She seemed both disappointed and relieved.

Cuatro de Diciembre's "Nueva Generación" [New Generation]

She then asked me if the band were any good, to which I replied that I thought that they were, but that maybe she could make up her own mind and that we might compare notes later...

A couple of dances later and it was time for the second set.

Juan Carlos had already done the happy birthday song during the lesson, so it fell to us to organise the traditional birthday dance circle. I'd spoken to the band earlier about doing this, and we all agreed that the latter part of Bembé's montuno section would be the best place to do this. And if there was any place where the patron gremlin of gigs would fart, it would be right there. Practice must make perfect after all. It turned out flawlessly - the whole song: from start to breakdown section to resumption and coda. In a true Bruce-Forsythian moment, we presented Lloyd with a cuddly toy from stage much to the amusement of the dancers; it would've been rude not to.

Now, I can safely say that the gig at the Hillside is the exception that proves the rule. Not a single hitch, and it was an outstanding night. Maybe Leslie might even find it in her heart to forgive me. Eventually.

Loo

29th March 2008 Double Salsa Feature Pa'Ti @Dancers-Preston

A most unexpected message struck me out from long-time salsa colleague Lubi Jovanovich in late January (Facebook is a kinda handy that way). As part of doing the rounds promoting his 2008 edition of Beginner's Guide To Salsa, Lubi was launching it on the 29th of March at an event organised by Dancers-Preston. Dancers-Preston comprise of Nick and Carol Atack with associated instructors who run regular ballroom, international Latin, and salsa lessons at the Preston Grasshoppers rugby ground and whom, according to Lubi, made it a habit of promoting live bands at their events - Casa Latina Allstars, Merengada, Charanga del Norte, Sexteto Cafe...

To quote Lubi, "he (Nick) has heard about you on the grapevine and the reports are all good." [Butter me up baby, and I'm all yours!] Not long after, the gig was set: a double bill featuring 4de12 and Lubi.

Being booked so far in advance, Dan and I were afforded the luxury of popping across the Pennines to scout out the venue a few weeks before - we had been getting conflicting information about venue size and wanted it resolved to reassure the PA guys. I took the chance to meet Carol and Nick in the flesh, have a chat, get a feel of the lessons and gauge the prospective audience. A sneaky little dance may have been involved. Dan was taking photos (of the venue).

4 de Diciembre all rocked up to Preston Grasshoppers on a drizzly Saturday afternoon, complete with soon-to-be-debutants Ferret on hand percussion and Thom on trumpet. I think Thom phrased it best when he said that he'd never been to a single gig where everything ran smoothly; this was in response to a situation we found ourselves in which I can only describe kindly as a "miscommunication" with the management of the venue itself. The whole band and our PA company, Blast PA, were left kicking our heels for a few hours in the dressing room, unable to set up on the empty stage next door, until 6pm. Doors were to open at 7:30pm.

Dan (left) and Whib (right) having a positively good time.
Photograph courtesy of Nigel Skinner, Copyright©2008. All rights reserved

Preferring to dwell on the positives instead, I can say that I learned a lot from the gig:

• Blast PA did an exemplary job - setting up everything, soundchecking us, and delivering tremendous quality both in the monitoring and front of house. Most of us are veterans of the live music scene, and we were throughly impressed at the speed and quailty of Blast's performance, and their very accommodating attitude.
• The interval between the two sets was too long - nearly an hour. Given our enforced spectatorship of male mud-wrestling in the afternoon, it made for the feel of a long-drawn-out day. No more than 30 minutes would be ideal.
• Our stage layout was almost ideal - good feedback rejection, interaction between all members, and visibility from front of house. This would form the basis of our technical specification documents.
• We would adopt a different approach to how we balanced our setlists with our encores, as audiences don't tend to call for the latter.
• The changes we'd made to the way we played our music paid dividends in performance terms - more variety and texture across our sets.
• Both Ferret and Thom are solid enhancements to the band's musicianship and entertaining ability.
• The quailty of our monitoring had the greatest impact on how we played - everything was comfortable, and we felt able to express ourselves freely on stage.

The audience were promptly onto the floor from the very first number; quite unusual as things go (there's normally a period of milling uncertainty leading to a tentative foray of the brave); proof positive that Nick takes considerable effort in promoting live music. We did have a sneaky ace up our sleeve; Ferret's parents had come up from Bristol to witness his debut on our front-line, and were staying with relations (also in attendance) not five minutes down the road.

During "El Gallo": Loo and Nathan rubberneck at the might of
the brass solos. Red Ferret is unmoved. Photograph courtesy of
Shanti T, Copyright©2008. All rights reserved

And irony of ironies, I spied a long-time friend in the audience with whom I'd lost contact with for more than ten years. Shortly after the first set, I bounded across to him to say 'hello' - he didn't recognise me at first... I guess that I was the last person he expected to see on stage. Richard Bettess knew me pre-salsa and has the dubious distinction of being responsible for introducing me to dancing in the first place: he dragged me kicking and screaming to my first ballroom class at uni. The rest, as they say, is history.

Cuatro de Diciembre double-featured with Superstar DJ
Lubi Jovanovich (left). Photograph courtesy of Shanti T (right).
Copyright©2008 Shanti T. All rights reserved

The response from the audience and the organisers spoke volumes about our performance. The floor was packed for every number, and Nick at the end of the night was happily saying that he was looking forward to having us back again. To mix my metaphors, the proof of the pudding will be in the test of time. And hiring salsa bands, no matter how good they are (and we are... good, that is), still pose a considerable capital risk to any promoter.

I would be lying if I said that there wasn't room for improvement, because that's the kind of ensemble we are. But I would still regard our first event with Dancers-Preston as an unqualified success. Maybe they and their clients would be the right persons to ask?

Loo Yeo

Context Matters

Finally, I've finished delivering the three tutorials on son phrasing:

Son Phrasing (Part 1): Son and Mambo
Son Phrasing (Part 2): Starting Son, and Clave
Son Phrasing (Part 3): Son Montuno

And another on the zarabanda action:
Zarabanda: A Context for Rhythmic Anticipation

Add those to the two ear-training lessons I'd done just before them, and it makes a marathon six tutorials written in a very short span of time. And my brain feels like it's run every inch of those 26 miles.

Regular visitors to the Rhythm Sense section in which the four tutorials are housed might recall that there were initially three unactivated menu items: Rhythmic Agreement and Participation; Commencing on Two Dance Cycles; and Rhythmic Anticipation. That was how I foresaw the tutorials taking shape; I knew the technical skills that I wanted to convey, but didn't have a strong sense of how to deliver them in a manner that wasn't dry. Had I done it that way, I think only really hard-core dancers would have stuck with it.

Zarabanda rhythm (torso) over Afro 6/8 pulse (lower body)
©Copyright 2008 Loo Yen Yeo. All Rights Reserved.

In the end, it took me a break from writing and dancing salsa (necessitated by the recording project) to decide on how. I'd always promised myself to work on my son dancing more, and so I did; and it coincided with two other events: leading the development of a batch of trainee salsa instructors, and finishing David F.García's book on Arsenio Rodríguez.

It became clear that the son was the ideal genre for the context of the former two skills; the zarabanda described by Ned Sublette for Rhythmic Anticipation; and the son montuno as the bridge between them. I'm happy with the way they've turned out. But naturally the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and since I can't unlearn and relearn the son just to validate it, I might have to wait until I have the chance to teach son again.

Sometimes I do wonder if it's material that anyone ever reads. At the very least it's a solitary enterprise - myself learning through the authoring process, and publishing it for Netizens to stumble upon. Oh, and it's also a good source of teaching support - I can refer my workshop attendees to it as required; they seem to like that a lot. I think it reassures them that they don't have to remember everything that I say during the class.

And, there is more context yet to come: more ear-training tutorials which layer up into a modern son rhythm section. The tracks are ready, the mind is... ?

Yeo Loo Yen

Singing On The Edge Of My Seat

Things have been so hectic that I neglected to post about the passing of this milestone last week. We finished on the evening of Tuesday the 12th of February, and it feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. Maybe it was because of the way the recording went.

Dan had arrived to begin setting up after dinner at about 7:30pm; we were soundchecked and ready to press the record button by eight. In the back of my mind, I was still not sure if I was ready to re-attempt 'Tiempo para el amor' (see earlier post) but I decided to risk the entire session by recording it anyway. The logic was to do it whilst my voice was fresh since it required more delicately controlled tones, as compared to the other remaining song 'Bembé' which is all about the energy. But there was a good chance that a laboured attempt at the first would jeopardise the success of the second.

Who Dares Wins right?

The first run through 'Tiempo' was alright but not scintillating; we both knew there was something better lurking in the wings so we scrubbed it and tried again. That next take nailed the whole pre-montuno section. Trying to carry momentum through, we moved to the inspiraciones and closing lines which were a little more involved since Dan had to cue my entry points: I prefer to sing with just congas, piano, bass and some hand percussion, with a lowish level of my own voice without reverb in the headphones so that I can hear what I'm doing to the mic; there's not a lot else to act as markers.

Momentum is difficult to maintain; the start and stop nature of 'recording and listening back' essentially precludes it. However, buoyed by success Dan loaded up 'Bembé'.

The beginning of the song is gentle with an open structure. That reveals everything about timing and initiation of tone. Several failed attempts at a flawless start saw me sitting down in the recording kitchen, glumly chewing in a couple of 'vocal zone' lozenges in an effort to soothe my voice. It was starting to look as if it wasn't going to be Bembé's night.

Lengthening the attack on the vowel did the trick, and we got the first half of the song done in one take bar the second verse. That took three takes. At one point Dan asked (rhetorically) "who wrote this verse?" because of the rapid-fire stream of syllables to be executed in one breath. Gurgle. I wasn't sure even then that everything was clearly enunciated and was just about to have another shot at it when Dan suggested that I listen to it - because he hadn't detected any smearing or tripping. He was right. The words did not skip as lightly as I would have wanted, but Dan had a point in that the way they were sung brought out the definition of the second verse.

The Chinese have a saying with translates literally into "To draw a snake, and then to add legs" which means to create something right, and then to make it wrong by not leaving it alone. Far be it for me to ignore an ancient proverb.

Frustratingly, the final hurdle proved to be the final two lines. But at last, by 10:30 pm everything was wrapped up. Like Catie who has finished all her standard flute parts, I too, felt a little bit of sadness. Only just a little bit.

I will always remember it as a precarious night, when it was touch and go whether things would work out. And the happy ending

Loo Yeo

Ear Training Tutorials

You wait ages and two come along at once.

A songo variation
©Copyright 2008 Loo Yen Yeo. All Rights Reserved.

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

A Germ Of An Idea

In this world, you never know where your next source of inspiration might come from. I can see exactly why Terry Pratchett describes it in his Discworld novels as little packets like photons, occassionally smacking someone right between the eyes.

I got a similar ah-ha moment watching the Bristol episode of Grand Designs: Trade Secrets. Yes, I love Grand Designs. I'm very much a fan of the talent of Kevin McCloud - his writing, his presenting, his storytelling. In it, Naomi Cleaver (whom i've fallen in love with time and again) says:

"Minimalists are more likely to be introverted than extraverted. An extravert needs a lot of stimulation. External stimulation - colour, objects, people, noise. They need that to actually function. An introvert has a very active internal world - so the last thing they need is any other form of stimulation, and so from their perspective, the less is actually better."

Minimalism is hard to do because simplicity reveals all the flaws in the finish.

That got me thinking about dance about how the majority of my students had been extraverts. Does that mean that, despite all the talk about people wanting to "turn full circle" and get back into a state of using less moves, they will fail to do so due to their very nature?

I think this bears a more profound treatment. I think I've just found the topic of my next article.

Yeo Loo Yen

I Need More Practice

A curious melange of Contentment and Disappointment. That's what I'm experiencing this morning.

The night before I'd laid down the lead vocal lines for "Tiempo para el amor". Of all of the songs we'd written for the suite, this one has been the most reticent to reveal its character and potential (to me at least). Always in the back of my mind, I was thinking that I could make it better... stronger... and often I felt a tinge of guilt, if you could call it that, for not having spent enough with it to do it justice.

So in return for a sizeable chunk of the Christmas break, Tiempo got a stronger melodic line. And even though I didn't feel ready, I decided to damn the torpedoes and go for a take. I was right... I wasn't ready and that's where disappointment creeps in. The optimist in me expected to deliver a song I hardly knew, to recording standard, in one evening. Surely I was good enough for that?

What comes back from the recording process is always unforgiving. For me, it's often brutal and all too rarely for my liking is it beautiful. In the cold post-recording light, I had to admit that there was still a lot of work to be done. But as a world champion latin dancer said to me once, "honest feedback is like medicine, it tastes bad but it makes you better".

And now I've got a better idea of what I want, and what I need to do to get it:

• I need to practice singing it in a higher key, so that there'll be enough headspace for me to sing onto the note from above;
• the tone I'd like is a lightly supported head-voice;
• the lyrics should be expressed with gentle subtlety but with solidity; and
• there should be a greater sense of air around the vocals.

It'll help that I've got the new vocal melody on tape to use as a template. And although I would have much preferred to have gotten it right first-time, hindsight knows that it wasn't realistically so.

That there was no lack of trying, and that there is a clear path to doing better, I think that's good enough reason for a fleeting flirt with contentment.

Loo Yen

A Herculean Effort

That's the only way I can describe the challenge that faces York's larger-than-life salsa teacher Tony Piper every year in his administration of the 12th Night Extravaganza. With his steely-eyed glare, he must stare the task into cowering submission; and he must do so with increasing ease given that the annual salsa event of the North just keeps on growing from strength to strength.

The rest of the time Tony's sweetness and light (he'll hate me for saying that).

Now I'd heard a lot about the 12th Night over the past few years, in favourable terms and in increasing numbers, but somehow I'd contrived to retain my 12th Night virginity... that is until last weekend. You see several months ago, Nicolai (Fuego Latino are partners in the event) sounded me out if I would be interested in teaching a timing workshop. As usual, he's a real charmer. After drinks and discussion with Helena, Tony and Nicolai on a Sunday evening, I did the professional educator thing and submitted a workshop definition document for their approval. I also spent part of the Christmas break mulling over a lesson plan broad enough to suit the contingencies, yet targeted enough to be coherent.

And so the first Friday of 2008 proved to be a bit of a mad rush, but with the help of Dan Flower (fellow salsa teacher, friend and partner-in-crime) we wended our merry way up north on his wheels, where we checked into the Monkbar Hotel and walked the 200 metres or so to the venue: St. John's College on Lord Mayor's Walk. On entering Temple Hall, water bottles at the ready, we found that the lessons were still on the go. No matter... I love watching others teaching and yet more others learning.

Being a stranger to the York scene and this event, the evening dance was a sea of unfamiliar faces dotted with the occassional friend. Dan and I put ourselves about a bit and were never short for partners, which we took as a positive indicator of a vibrantly open-minded scene. The only thing stopping me from dancing more was the prospect of teaching the next day and the heat - that'll teach me for not dancing more whilst I'm in the tropics! The main draw that night was "Bourbon y Tequila" a north-and-south 9 piece salsa band based in Leeds. I'd heard a lot about them and was keen to watch them in action.

So when they came onstage, I put my music director's hat on.

They played two sets comprising current standards, the vast majority of their numbers were covers. They played tightly, which told me that they gigged often; and their strongest point was their horns, which were very well arranged and gave them a big brassy sound. The sound engineer Om got the balance right too, although I personally would have preferred a bit more cut from the bongó and more rounded open tones from the congas. I do feel that they suffered somewhat from the lack of backing vocalists, which meant a lack of harmonic timbre and a smaller framework for improvised lead vocals. This was most noticable towards the latter end of each song, where I got the distinct feeling whilst dancing to their music that they should have ended each one sooner instead of drawing things out. [I used to face a similar issue with 4de12, and opted then to do things the hard way: to keep the songs compact and increase the number of numbers in each set.] I think that this would have lent their sets more energy and texture.

Having said all of that, my bias towards live music will always ensure a positive critical attitude. Overall I think they acquitted themselves very well and many of the dancers there thought so too. Soon after they'd finished, I was off to bed.

First thing the next morning, Dan and I hit the hotel restaurant for our cooked breakfast and cups of tea. We were joined by delightful fellow-Sheffielders Mandy and Heather, who told us with bleary-eyed enthusiasm what a great time they'd had the night before, and that they were going to snooze again after breakfast. No such luxury for us, we were teaching in one of the morning slots.

All beginner and improver classes were located at the Students' Union building, and Tony was taking the first slot which differentiated (educator-speak for breaking up a class by student ability and experience) part-way between Tony and Mary, and Alfredo and Christine - all of whom are teachers of SalsaYork. Dan and I didn't need much coaxing to join in as man-meat lead-filler. I'm glad we did, as it gave me extended contact with the students before it was my turn to teach the timing workshop.

It's one thing to teach timing over three hours to a select group of trainees whom you've gotten to know over a period of several weeks. It's quite another to teach timing to a group of improvers with whom you'd only just met, in one hour. But I was not afraid. No. I had three major factors on my side: Dan on the decks who made the operations of the lesson run smoothly; Nicolai as a reassuring and familiar face to the whole class; and plenty of planning on my part. It went without a hitch, and we managed to preserve the course's 100% success record. Usually it's the men who struggle the most in conventional timing lessons so I use them as the benchmark. At the close, they were moving to time with that glint of certainty in their eyes. Magic!

The college is a school for the performing arts, so there are plenty of spaces for dance instruction - it's a genius place to hold this event. We moved the instruments into the staff room, and I got acquainted with a few more instructors before hunting down an unfulfilling lunch in the cafeteria. That proved to be a blessing in disguise as I attended Guillermo's rumba guaguancó class soon after (he's from Guantanamo). Boy, was it energetic! I wish I'd had pen and paper on me to write down all the exercises he put us through. With rumba being a long-time curiosity of mine, I'm right now figuring out when I can make a commitment to travelling up to attend his lessons regularly.

Since I was due to teach the evening session I made a break for the hotel to freshen up, where I caught up with Dan who was sneaking a power-nap. With no such time to spend, a shower and change later, and we were out in search of an early evening meal. York can be a bit of a tourist-trap for the unfamiliar, and I certainly fall into that category. We found a place with passable but overvalued Italian food before making it back to the college in time to set up for my second workshop.

When my charges walked in, I could tell that they'd had a long day, and I knew that they'd struggle to deal with the abstract concepts and the different teaching paradigm. They did try their utmost; no-one was there who didn't really want to be there so, credit to them, they really stuck at it all the way through the advanced material. We took the time to digress and talk about the various timings that pervade the salsa scene, which everyone seemed to get a lot out of (that flexibility is one of the benefits of a workshop format). I learned quite a bit too, about the landscape of the UK salsa scene, just from direction of the questions asked of me by the attendees. Then everybody scarpered to go and watch the dance shows because I'd overrun.

Although there were mitigating circumstances, I'm still slightly miffed with myself for delivering a less than scintillating lesson. Next time I do this, I'll have to plead with Tony to schedule my classes for an earlier time, and I have to tighten the specifications of this particular level of workshop.

I danced the remainder of the night, right up to the close. Lubi and Tony played great sets, and I sensed a more of a care-free attitude - people weren't consciously holding anything in reserve like they were the night before. I congratulated Tony, Helena and Nicolai on a great salsa weekend.

The next morning, there was just time for a friend to friend chat with Nicolai over breakfast before making tracks for home. It was a beautiful bright day.

Okay, I'm not getting any younger and it did take me a few days to recover, but that's the most fun I've had at a salsa event in ages. (Excepting the ones where I'm there as part of the band of course!)

If that's the shape of things to come, then 2008 could well be the big momma of all salsa years.

Yeo Loo Yen

2007 Is Drawing To A Close

And it certainly feels like it.

Fewer and fewer Decemberists can make it to practices due to work parties and family commitments (and that includes the shopping). There's a last drive-to-the-line to get some more recordings done; Ana's laying down final backing vocals takes this Thursday and Saturday. And I've started planning my development course over the break.

I've traditionally spent this season on my own, something that grew out of being a student in a country with no immediate family nearby. Over time, it's grown into a sort of a comfortable familiarity; an occassion to spend quality time with myself. And I don't forsee this year as being any different. In fact I'm counting on it, because I've got a ton of stuff lined up:

• practicing my singing to tres accompaniment;
• working out stronger vocal melodies to "Tiempo para el amor";
• watching several DVDs on folkloric Cuban music and dance;
• preparing my workshop on timing to be delivered at Tony Piper's Twelfth Night festival;
• developing my son (dance) phrasing; and
• reading up on the birth of Bachata.

That's on top of finishing up a highly technical literature review for my company Verdant.

I've got slightly over ten days - which should be plenty of time, especially fuelled with festive foods: Homer can have his d'oh-nuts, I'll go for the mince pies and several hours of son to work them off. And there're a couple of house parties thrown in for good measure.

The Christmas ahead looks like it's gonna rock!

Loo

Patato Se Soltó

This morning I opened my Inbox to find a message from the guys at Descarga:

"Carlos "Patato" Valdés 1926-2007. On Tuesday, December 4th, legendary conga master Carlos "Patato" Valdés died in NYC of respiratory failure. To all of his friends and family, our deepest sympathy. RIP Patato."

I'm saddened. Although I never got to meet him personally, he played an important part in my development as a conguero. As a role model, he showed that congas could be melodic instruments too, and commesurately how important the development of tones were in the natural skillset of a conga player. He also showed how important it was to remain a person whilst under the weight of, amongst other things, the quest for technical perfection; and to inject one's character into everything one does, be it drumming or dancing. Apart from being a master drummer, this dimunitively-framed man was also a rumbero mayor.

I remember how his playing just blew me away when I heard the 'Conga Kings' album; more so than Cándido Camaro and Giovanni Hidalgo, no slouches themselves, who were also featured.

I laughed after reading the liner notes and listening to the first track of 'Ritmo y Candela' - a gem of a CD that I'd initially bought only because my tres which I'd acquired via eBay, was featured on it. In 'San Francisco tiene su propio son', Patato unexpectedly took to singing inspiraciones impromptu through his conga mic in his cackling voice, the coro responding quickly off the cuff with "Patato se soltó (Patato's let loose)"... they left the take in the final cut of the Grammy winning album.

I smiled at the pictures of him, whilst reading of his thoughts on salsa in Mary Kent's Salsa Talks.

I chuckled at Ray Vega's spoof of Patato on Martin Cohen's (founder of Latin Percussion) site.

I don't know what to feel or say. But I do know what I will do. I'll dance tonight.

Loo

Que Viva Changó

By a strange turn of events we ended up celebrating the 4th of December at my place tonight. We had planned originally to record the guide melodics on Thursday the 6th, but one thing led to another and it got nudged forward by a couple of days. Now I'm not sure if many people would class a recording session as a celebration but we certainly did this time, although we sorely missed Catie who had to travel to Folkestone unexpectedly on a work-related matter.

I called Mei's on Charles Street, my long-time favourite Chinese restaurant, shortly after close of work to place an order for the obligatory salt and pepper squid, and Singapore-style spicy udon noodles, and a plethora of other goodies. I had just enough time to pick them up, jump in a taxi, arrive home, and get the rice in the rice cooker when Dan arrived to set up the recording paraphernalia.

Here the AMT wireless microphones came into their own: the Roam 1 Elite on Carolyn's tenor sax in the attic and the Roam 2 in Jan's violin one floor above gave crystal clear sound with minimal setup. Dan reckoned it cut the time needed down to half; it certainly meant less trailing wires. Thom was also upstairs blowing his trumpet into the Shure Beta 91 gaffered into the reflexion filter (we're finding lots of uses for that configuration), and Mike was on the ground floor playing his 'bone into a Neumann KMS105. The much underrated Samson S-phone four channel headphone amplifier allowed Dan to give everyone the mix they individually wanted in their headphones.

The guys rolled up at 7:30pm as planned and hungrily fell on the still-warm food, washing it down with cups of tea. The scene is a jovial one: relaxed and warm. I remember my very first session at Yellow Arch as being a tense affair, and this was the polar opposite. Not a long while after and with bellies full, it was time to get going. While the guys were on soundcheck, I popped out to the local off-licence, the rather excellent Dram Shop for: Golden Glory (a badger ale) for Dan, Hebridean Gold (a Skye ale) for Carolyn, some Indian Pale Ale for Mike, and witty repartee with the sales-lasses for me.

The mantra of recording studios is 'keep the musicians happy'. For Cuatro de Diciembre, feeding and watering them is the best way. Oh, and there was also chocolate.

I had thought initially that not having Catie there would prove a very difficult obstacle. This didn't turn out to be so, as the guys had practiced it loads and kept track of the spaces for flute. 'Bembé' was the first to get the guide treatment and we kept the third take - there is always an element of playing, listening, reviewing and rerecording, but where it was once a luxury back in the bad ole days when we used to hire studio time, with our own step-up we can afford to take the time to do it right, even at guide stage. It's helped our musicianship loads and I would recommend it to any conjunto with the expertise who might be slightly balked by the initial costs.

Then came 'Recordando Africa' followed by 'Tiempo para el amor'. Somewhere along the line, Nathan turned up to join the party, as did Ana after work. On reviewing the first take of 'Tiempo' both Mike and Thom, after discussion with Dan, worked out a different arrangement which yielded a stronger take. It's always nice to see that happen at a recording session; I think it indicates confident musicianship in a relaxed atmosphere. Kinda sums up 4de12.

And it's funny how whenever we add a new series of tracks to the songs, we change what we think its central theme should be. Well at least I do anyway. Take 'Tiempo para el amor' for example:

When we laid down the framework, I thought that it would centre on the relationship between the vocal and piano; then when timbales and bongó went on, it had a more bolero character; adding the hand percussion gave it a more son montuno flow. Now with the melodic guides, it has a great old-time pre-mambo feel.

I think that's one of the things the guys value about playing in the band. Everyone knows that they have the freedom to interpet the songs in their own way, and yet everyone is sensitive enough to accommodate everyone else. And so as the 4th of December 2007 drew to a close, we had all the necessary guides for us to resume recording in the new year for finalised takes. Ana is next up on backing vocals; we just have to sort out a schedule between her and Dan.

And I'm at home with a lot of left-over food.

Today's been a mighty good day.

Loo Yeo

Víspera

It's the 3rd of December, the eve of Changó's day, and in a few hours time revelry will commence in Cuba.

'Víspera' (Spanish for 'Eve') is also the name of Cuatro de Diciembre's debut album. 'Víspera' is more than about an evening before, it is the moment presaging change: from 'Hijos de Cam' which tells of change's inevitability; 'Corazón Fugitivo' in the heartbeat of escape; 'Llamada de Ogún' on the passion of liberation; 'Tiempo para el Amor' on the uncertainty of rediscovery; 'Recordando Africa' in the quickening just before passing...

And there is also change in real life.

We should be seeing the posting of our first live track 'Recordando Africa', garnered from our performance at Leeds Met, on our various sites. It is a big step for us indeed; to put up something of a suitable recording standard from a live performance. Those who perform can appreciate what I mean. It's ironic in a way... that we had first embarked on the studio recording project as making a memento of our playing together, and to find ourselves beaten to the finish line by this milestone.

And with this act, we should have found the main driving force behind the recording project as having vanished, had not the studio project had taken a life of its own - energised with our determination to see it completed.

There is one smaller irony: that the first song would be 'Recordando Africa', which is about passing on to another place. I think most of us in the band would agree to it being the ugly duckling of our practices, and yet a beautiful swan of our performances.

Víspera is turning out to be full of surprises.

Yeo Loo Yen

A Confluence of Circumstances

Eric Alfonso is a Cuban timbalero of several decades experience. For quite a while now, several members of our salsa band have been getting about a bit and Dan and Nathan, timbales players themselves, have become well acquainted with Eric and his musician colleagues in Salsa Celtica. Taking advantage of a gap in Salsa Celtica's touring schedule, the both of them invited Eric down south to sunny Yorkshire for a weekend of rampant Afro-Cuban noise-making, where he guested in one of our practices, and led a day-and-a-half of tuition.

It was an enlightening and much-needed injection of knowldege from an old hand. There are things one can't pick-up from books or YouTube - subtleties... nuances that one must experience in the flesh. To say that his trip made an impact is a little bit of an understatement. But what's really nice about the guy is that he wanted to see us do well; because he recognised instantly our musical approach as stemming from a genuine desire to understand the roots of his culture.

Since his visit, percussion development has been growing in cohesion and direction; so much so that our practice format has been amended slightly to capitalise on this, in the same way as we had made changes to the benefit of our melodics months ago. One of his main drives was in the use of breaks in our arrangements to build tension and add definition to our numbers. Although I had identified and written about this myself (see previous post), it required someone external to the band to provide the crucial impetus.

And I'm glad we're finally rolling on it.

But I would be doing 4de12 an injustice and leaving you the reader with the wrong impression if I didn't elaborate further. I believe that we are now in a stronger position to take on Eric's advice than we were just a couple of months ago, because of a confluence of circumstances: a line-up change with Wib moving onto bongó and Jim coming in on conga; Dan having built up more experience on timbales; listening to and learning from the recording and editing of timbales in our upcoming album; and feedback from our Leeds charity gig which we recorded off the desk.

The latter, good as it was, highlighted several avenues of development including the benefit of increased break arrangments - there being a marked contrast between the numbers that had them, and those that didn't. Suffice to say that we've got enough to keep us occupied until Eric's next visit.

Loo Yeo

¡Ay Dios! Ampárame

I was sitting in a Coffeeshop yesterday evening after close of work, making additions to the salsa band facebook site, when my phone rang. Surprisingly, it was Nicolai. Surprising not that he would call, but this was not his 'social routine' time.

I was right. After a friendly exchange, it turned out that he had been partially double-booked i.e. overlapped, with his DJ gig here at Sheffield's Bar Cubana on Fridays. He was wondering if I was free to cover for him for the 30-45 minutes it would take for him to get there from his earlier engagement. "Sure" (I like saying yes, and whatismore, how can one resist Nicolai?).

Two years ago it would've been like water off a duck's back, but this time a little bit of inconvenience was involved. Even though I did have a lot of new material to introduce, I hadn't prepared the supporting information in the DJ sense.

"What's that mean?"

It's about not settling into a 'comfort zone' that I see many of my peers doing, where eventually, one can predict which songs they're going to play next. One of the factors contributing to it is they way they use a CD i.e. they mark down the tracks they will use only.

This means for example, that if they find two tracks that they would use on a CD, they would use those two exclusively and fail to revisit the whole CD as their skills develop. This negates the possibility that some of the remainder might become valuable as the DJ's set-building skills develop. Therefore the exclusive system of rating restricts a DJ's ability to develop.

I rate each song in an album: objectively in terms of length, tempo in beats per minute, and rhythm type; subjectively on a scale of 1-5 and whether or not it is accessible to an audience that is new to the genre. I revisit the subjective evaluation every couple of years.

Now back to my story...

Nicolai said that it would take only six or so songs, but I always pegged him as an optimist (bless him). At the very least I needed to be prepared for an hour. But I had to account for the fact that I hadn't DJed in a while, and that I had new albums that I was not as fully conversant with as I would have liked. This required one of my special non-standard strategies.

But before I get to that, I should say that I classify my music as 'music' and 'animal food' - not politically correct I know.

'Animal food', to put it bluntly, is for a target audience of dancers who are happy to remain ignorant and uncaring of any possible cultural connections. All they want is an obvious rhythmic structure to which they can perform their vocabulary. Notice I use the word 'to' and not 'in' - the latter would imply that they did so in tempo. 'Music' satisfies the cultural insider as well as the interested outsider at a multitude of levels becuase the pieces would including socio-political commentary and significant cultural motifs.

And before any readers of my diary get up in arms about it, contents of the two groups aren't mutually exclusive.

I took these CDs:

• 8 get-out-of-jail-free cards: 4 of music, 4 of animal food.
  These are albums, single artist or compilations, where every single track is usable under the broadest range of circumstances e.g. 'Mandali' - Africando (animal food), 'Llego...' - Los Van Van (music).
  
• 8 mood-changers/floor-fillers: again 4 of music, 4 of animal food. These would give me the rhythmic and melodic diversity to change direction and texture. Typically there would be 2 or 3 tracks per album. Examples: 'Pa'l Bailador' - Johnny Polanco (animal food), 'Island Life' - Yerba Buena (music). I call them fulcrum pieces.
  
• 8 new and relatively new albums. For DJs of my kind these are the lifeblood of our playlists.
  

The Rationale
I view every evening of music in the same way as I understand dance, and that is having stability, movement, and innovation. The dynamism of the set is based on the level of mood-movement and innovation, and that itself is dependent on the inclination of the audience that particular evening.

The get-out-of-jail-free cards form the backbone, and buy me resting time should I need it when looking for the appropriate new song. It also makes sure my audience have a comfort zone that I can return them to.

The fulcrum pieces allow me to change moods, so my audience has short-term identity and long-term variety.

The innovations are why music and dance evolves. They are hard work to learn how to incorporate effectively into a set, but without new pieces, how else can we keep a scene fresh and vital? (Many DJs I know who play day-in day-out sadly take the easy route and eventually stop allocating enough energy and time to deploying new music thoughtfully.)

Two dozen CDs is quite a lot to take for just an hour or so, but you never know what sort of audience you're going to get at Cubana. At its extreme, I'd only have a dozen to choose from and that would average one track from each CD.

How the night panned out
I always start as I mean to go on. Only the good stuff.

Some people play not-so-good songs at the start and pull out the fancy stuff later. To them I say, "why don't you build a collection full of the good stuff instead of padding it out with cheap filler?" (i.e. Jamie Oliver's equivalent of turkey twizzlers.)

45 minutes into the set, everyone's on the dance floor. There's a bunch of Cubans, some Venezuelans and Colombians, other motley Latin Americans plus Interested Outsiders. I know it's going to be a 'Music' night. Fantastic!

Monica from the bar informs me that Nicolai's called and that they're running 15-20 minutes late. That's okay, I anticipated that. Things are going great.

I play it pretty safe and straight-up since I don't want to paint Nicolai into a corner in terms of atmosphere when he turns up to take over. I'm just over halfway through my armoury of tracks of this class (the safe-straight-up class).

I get a call from Helena (a friend and Nicolai's salsa partner) but mobile reception sucks and we get cut off thrice. Monica from the bar tells me that Nicolai's car has broken down and she asks if I have enough music to make it through the night on my own. I say, "I don't think so". She hands me Cubana's folder of material, which frankly, is the stuff I'd never touch. No offence - it's just not my style.

Time to get radical.

Situation Report
I know I'm running out of safe tracks, and that I have to start using more tracks from the same artist and album (SAA). I have a 'Music' audience. Irrespective, I have to start taking risks.

I need to increase the dynamism of the night, using fulcrum pieces to swing the moods farther to extremes. I can then deploy songs from the SAA in the middle of the movements, and the general audience won't notice what I've done.

Execution
The main fulcrum pieces were from 'Island Life' by Yerba Buena, and 'El Amor De Mi Tierra' by Carlos Vives. The associations of songs extended from common artists, producers, era, and musical movement to include the lead instrument frequency range. Every 'risky' piece had at least one best-case and worst-case sequence exit route.

Although my material was heavily overspecified to the 45min parameter, it was way underspecified for 3 hours. But I wanted to avoid digging deelply into the 'animal food' compartment; it would not have been fair on the music-loving dancers there.

There were a number of occassions where I put on a song and crossed my fingers. A normal audience would not have gone for it I'm sure, but I felt I had some measure of the dancers there last night. To their credit they just took it in with aplomb; whatever I threw at them, they just danced and danced and danced.

It was an object lesson for the Interested Outsiders, and the general public.

At the end, when the lights came up and 'Havana City' died away, I found myself reminded of what I'd been missing in eschewing DJing for Cuatro de Diciembre (not that that will change anytime soon).

As I left, the doorman took me aside and spoke of the number of people who had said how good the music had been tonight; and that he had not heard patrons speak like that before. A grin split his face.

It was done on the back of just over a dozen CDs.

I would have walked home in a fog of smug if not for recognising one thing: thank God for music-loving Latins.

Loo Yen

13th October 2007 Leeds Charity Salsa Ball @The Met Hotel (Part 2)

Nicolai called Cuatro de Diciembre to stage at 10pm. And he gave us a hell of an introduction; one which bore all the warmth of his character, and which drew from his years of experience as a public speaker.

We matched his introduction quality for quality with our opening number Nueva Generación - one of our three suite songs written deliberately for high impact; AND we played it tighter than a badger's ass in a tooling vice.

Of the many things I love about 4de12, one of the most remarkable is the sheer energy we can kick out on stage. I could see the atmosphere charging up as we powered our way through the sections, and the salseros responding accordingly. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the DJs: Nicolai and Tony, taking in the performance with grins splitting their faces. Make no mistake, Cuatro de Diciembre may not have been very well known in the salsa gig circle then, but for those who had, our debut in Leeds was very much anticipated.

Salsa Meltdown: The Irrepressible DJ Amos
burning up the floor with the Beautiful Agnieszka

Having opened with all guns blazing, we followed up with more of the same with Nathan taking it up on Hijos de Cam. We alternate singers to give the audience dynamic changes in texture as well as taking the load of the lead vocalists. It was received as enthusiastically, and from then on everything else fell into place. Being dancers ourselves, we plan our sets with energy cycles to give our audience respites as needed whilst still retaining that BIG atmosphere.

Our cover of Bilongo was going to be a potentially sticky bit because I'd heard Tony play it just two songs before we came on. True enough, just after I announced it, Tony heckled good-naturedly (he was really getting into the swing of things) from sidestage. I just smiled and said, "yeah, but we're going to play it even better!" And we did, with our trademark unique middle section that Ana, Jeremy and I developed. The numbers kept rolling, and we ended the set fourty minutes later, exactly as the organisers had planned.

I did interrupt the opening of a song, the last one, to slow down the tempo. I'd seen that the dancers were getting fatigued and felt that we could help accommodate them more. It was a move received very positively by the salseros and the DJs/promoters, the latter of which are always reassured when a band demonstrates that it is aware of the audience's needs and has the confidence to respond accordingly.

During the break while my colleagues were in the dressing room, I got some dancing in and chatted with the DJs to get a feel of how well our performance was being received. Amos of Salsa sin limite paid us a very nice compliment saying that he enjoyed it so much he forgot to dance - normally you can't keep him off a dance floor. Tony of Salsa York used the word "astounding" (in a good way). Great! That meant that only small quantitative changes needed to be made for the second set, which had a playlist at least as strong as the first.

Nicolai and Helena (Sueño Latino) putting on the razzle dazzle to live music

The rest of the band came in to watch the very entertaining dance demonstrations: one of tango argentino and two of salsa. Mike in particular was having a blast - I will always remember the look of delight on his face on the far side-of-stage. Just one short interval later that and we were back on. James, on hearing from Nathan and myself that we both felt as if we over-singing, put our monitor levels up. That helped us a tremendous amount and made the vocal performance a lot easier for the rest of the evening.

There were so many highlights: how all the Decembers were introduced during the first song El Tambor; the looks of astonishment on the faces of the DJs as we burned our way through El hechizo del montuno aka Salsa Gitana a beautiful and immensely challenging song for a band to make its own; and Bembé which turned out to be one of the jewels of the night. Nathan took us to the close on En la sangre and it was exit stage right.

A few minutes (and one tiny glitch) later, Nicolai led the audience in calling us back for an encore. This was where we pulled out all the stops having reserved Tributo al son and El gallo for this occassion. They absolutely cooked.

And then it was all over, finishing on a high.

Ana, Nathan and I managed to get just a couple of dances in before we had to go; we would have loved to stay longer, but given the poorly state of half the band, the prudent thing was to get them safely back home. Every December was and is an absolute trooper. It's easy for me to be completely biased about how well we played, but the real proof is easily seen. Everyone (and I mean everyone) who was there at the Ball not only enjoyed it, but have been telling their friends that they had missed something really great. So much so that salseros from Sheffield were coming up to me the next day, saying that they'd heard how brilliantly 4de12 had entertained.

Cuatro de Diciembre @Leeds Charity Salsa Ball 2007

The organisers, DJs, demonstrators, attendees, and salsa band all played their part. For me, there is no better way of making sure that the Leeds Charity Salsa Ball becomes an established annual event.


Loo Yen Yeo

Post Script:
The Ball raised a total of £1650, split between the Leeds Society for Deaf and Blind People, and the British Heart Foundation. Cuatro de Diciembre's thanks go to Verdant EcoLogic for their generous sponsorship, to make their chance to play at the Ball a reality.

13th October 2007 Leeds Charity Salsa Ball @The Met Hotel (Part 1)

It was the beginning of summer 2007, I was lounging around in Cubana on a Saturday afternoon. Nicolai had just finished his lessons and we were catching up, as we normally do after an age of not having done so simply because our lives had gotten in the way. It was then that he popped the question.

"Would 4 de Diciembre like to play at the inaugural Leeds Charity Salsa Ball?"

"Sure!" I said.

Friends and organisers:
The Cheeky Shanti and the Delectable Jo

Summers being summers, people were away on holiday at overlapping times and we had the pressure of recording timbales then bongó and djembe. What seemed like a goodly amount of time soon started to evaporate; and our preparations for two killer sets started to acquire a fevered pitch. Pressures mounted, and over the ensuing weeks there were more that a few heated discussions between band members. Certainly, we could have made things a lot easier for ourselves by choosing a safer route with the playlist, but that's just not our style - simply because it would feel like we weren't doing our best for the people who make the effort to come to hear us play.

Amazed at the Might of Jan's violin solo. Photograph courtesy of Shanti T, Copyright 2007. All rights reserved

One of the key pressure points was my intention (and I shoulder the burden of blame) to debut Bembé, even though it hadn't been fully arranged yet. My extended absence in Asia and the States and a bad case of traveller's flu afterward put paid to our ability to practice it. But still, I really wanted to do it to make the Charity Ball an extra special occassion, and to thumb my nose at conventional wisdom. True, few people would appreciate it, but the people who mattered would. Everyone in Cuatro de Diciembre put in a Herculean effort and Bembé survived final cull for the playlist with two days to spare. It emerged as one of the sparkling gems of the night, and the gathered were only told of its debut after the last strains had faded away.

We arrived at the Met hotel in plenty of time, and James our excellent sound engineer was already a good way through setting up his PA. The main hall is an acoustic challenge with highly reflective glass surfaces in the form of mirrors behind the stage, freely vibrating glass panes at the far end, corners that trapped bass, and a vaulted ceiling. That caused the soundcheck to take a little longer, but having the excellent AMT microphones on the melodics and the Markbass units for Ana's bass made the job a easier.

Most of the band were labouring under the weight of flu, with Catie and Nathan at their worst. Whilst they were resting after soundcheck, I put my glad rags on and went out to mingle.

A li'l care and attention:
Mike (trombonist) helping Wib (conguero) tart himself up

Having hired bands myself in a previous life, one of my pet peeves were of the ones who just turned up, played, took the money, and scarpered. When salseros attend a live music event, they do so not only to experience the performance. Such is the nature of Latin bands that the people who play the music are more accessible to the dancers than in other genres. In every gig by a top salsa band I'd been to, be it Spanish Harlem, Ricardo Lemvo or Manolito, some members always made a personal appearance either at the bar or dance floor after playing.

I decided to go one better and start promoting before the gig; Nicolai and I both knew how important it was that the first Charity Ball be successful...

(On to Part 2)

My Momentary Lapse Of Reason

What was I thinking? Somebody cuff me over the head with a heavy object.

After returning from San Diego, I realised that I'd been eating that little too well during my travels - business entertaining and all that. Coupled with the remarkably sedentary life of a musician, the pounds seem to have found a swarming point on my frame.

"Okay", I said to myself, "exercise is the key". So I cast about thinking about the best avenue to explore. Running again was too boring a prospect, with the included hazard of dodging student-hurled chow on the pavements; and I haven't returned to swimming since being a substrate to an overly-friendly Trichoderma. So the obvious thing was to go out dancing more.

"Winner", I thought. Burn off some of those dastardly calories and inflict myself on more people at the same time. The only proviso being that it can't be on a band practice night...

Only then did I realise how limited my options were: most salsa spots are during the weekday, as the bars make more money with mainstream nights over the weekend. Jive was the same. The prospect of a return to ballroom dancing was starting to loom large. Also, there is the increased prospect of business dinner-dances, so it's clearly in my best interests to knock a few rust-spots off.

So I gritted my teeth and returned to the club I'd left as a student more than a decade ago, knowing that I'd be incognito, and hoping that the things that I'd despised about it (I don't use strong emotional words like those very often, so please bear with me) had changed for the better. My timing was perfect as it coincided with the beginning of the new academic year, and the "Give-it-a-go" introductory lessons were on. I turned up on the Friday evening without a change of dance shoes...

There was the usual gender imbalance that most dancing clubs in the UK have to negotiate. But at least the competitive team members were there to act as demonstrators, and the instructor tried to deliver an airy and light atmosphere.

I'm really sorry to say that those are the only positive points I could find. (My thoughts on the level of physical education skills in that arena are well documented, so I shan't retread old ground.)

The same reasons why I'd left and started up the Salsa & Merengue Society - those same issues, which when addressed properly made S&Msoc the most successful of its kind, were still there in the now-rebranded Dancesport club more than 10 years on. Even as a then member of the Dancesport competitive team, I felt strongly about the oligarchic nature of the club, that team members failed to engage more extensively with the standard 'pundits' if you like, in order to foster a higher quality of dance.

Societies are funded in great part, in proportion to their membership numbers - Dancesport can recruit more than 250 members annually, of which at most 24 will compete in the A,B and C teams. In my time, a disproportionate level of resource I felt was being devoted to subsidising the team and not enough on developmental opportunities for the non-team students. This perception was made more vulnerable to conflict of interest as the governing committee comprised team members or their friends.

That night, team members spent most of their time exhibiting themselves, and talking to each other and to their Latin instructors - who arrived late. To be fair, apparently there had been a mechanical failure with the bus that the latter had been on; they had been taking lessons in London - but it begs the question, "Why didn't they allow for that?" They would have, if it was a competition they were going to - you can bet your bottom dollar.

Maybe the occassion of introducing a group of interested people to your supposed passion and livelihood wasn't considered important enough. And not a single team member was actually in the learning body to offer any remedial advice. Not one. I (surreptitiously) helped more than all of them put together.

This club laments the dearth of male dancers, and their ability to hold onto them. Very clearly, the instructor was more conversant with teaching females than males (consistently giving erroneous direction changes to the leads is unforgiveable), and the latter were sorely neglected from an organisational perspective. Apart from the oligarchy, the lack of reason linking cause to effect is, as I said before, despicable.

All those involved purpot to love dance. But there is an obvious disparity between word and deed. What I saw was a love of individual self, not a commitment to helping another person experience one's passion.

And to score one more point:
At its height, the Salsa & Merengue Society recruited more than 800 members in a year, of which 120 were active every week (that's half the Dancesport's total membership); AND the S&Msoc waived its right to membership subsidy while still running a calendarful of well attended events.

I will go back once more, to see if the Latin teachers are any better. I hope for the sake of the run-of-the-mill members that they are.

Loo Yeo

Salsa Situation Report: 20th September 2007

I've recently returned from another sojourn in the Far East, where I only managed to get in one merengue and one quasi-jive over the three week period. I did three songs as a teaching demonstration (of different salsa and son styles) prior to that, and one evening of salsa on my return to Sheffield. To say that my life has been a little thin on the dancing side is like calling Chingis Khan a little bit naughty.

What's worse, I've been struck down with a cold that's left me croaking like an anguished bull-frog; unable to sing at the band practices. Left with no time to settle, I have to fly again - this time, westwards. Life does sometimes get in the way.

On the positive side, my recording commitments on the tumbadoras have come to a close. That is unless we feel a need for solos on the requinto. That's freed me up to get back to the bass, tres, chekere and vocals. And this blog.

The piano montuno tutorial in the ear-training section is still on the horizon, but a distant one having been displaced by other needs. Cuatro de Diciembre has caught the interest of a number of local musicians, some of whom are in the process of being integrated into the band. To ease the way, I've begun translating the lyrics of the suite into English to give them a head-start in understanding the themes of each song. I had intended on doing this anyway, for inside the CD booklet and to help the graphic designer find the right feel for the cover art.

Another relief has been that we were able to record Harris whilst I was away. That was always going to be the cruical deadline, and the reason why we pushed so hard with the timbale recording and editing. It proved to be the right move, as we were able to capture two takes of his genius on bongo and at least one of djembe for each song. Now I haven't had a chance to listen through it all, and there's still a lot of editing to do, but there's no doubt that there's a lot of good raw meterial there. He was reluctant to do it at first, using his experience recording at Yellow Arch as a gauge, but in the end he admitted that the relaxed atmosphere and having the time to listen and re-record made for a couple of very enjoyable sessions. I'm glad.

In a way, it's vindication of my belief in each song in the face of a lack of credulity in some of my fellow musicians. Especially for 'Llamada de Ogun', which was so different from the standard format that it was slow to reveal its potential. Harris spotted how percussively flexible it was straight away and interpreted it in a way that brought out its fullness of character - like all good musicians should do.

We now have our eye on the gig in mid-October. The hard part is keeping the recordings on-track while it looms before us. As much as I relish presenting the objects of our inspiration and labour for the enjoyment of others, I can't completely dispel the feeling that I'd just as much rather bring the recording project to a close.

For me, having mounting commitments to my company Verdant, that can't happen soon enough.

Loo