"Mambo Kingdom: Latin Music In New York" by Max Salazar

This book had been on my 'to acquire and study' list for a very long time. Many of the books I'd read had cited Max Salazar's work, and I was conscious of its significance. This was supported by a number of glowing reviews, but in contradiction, I found it curious when trying actually getting a hold of a copy that it was no longer in print.

Personally I had just come off the back of Ned Sublette's "The World That Made New Orleans", and was expecting a work of similar stature. Anybody who has had the pleasure of encountering Mr.Sublette's work could justifably accuse me of having unrealistic expectations.

It turns out that 'Mambo Kingdom' is a collection of articles written by Max Salazar that were previously published primarily in 'Latin Beat' magazine, with the remainder in others like 'Impacto'. This wasn't alluded to in any of the reviews that I came across.

Most of the articles are biographical and based on taped interview material between the author and the relevant artist, the latter of whom are stellar: ranging from Miguelito Valdés and Vicentico Valdés to José Curbelo (a glaring omission is Celia Cruz despite her presence during the time-span). Significant phenomena in the mambo world such as The Palladium, Charanga, and Salsa Origins are treated from the participant-observer perspective.

Max Salazar writes authoritatively and allows the reader to live the mambo times through is eyes in New York City. As temporally-spaced single articles, they might be appreciated by fellow residents of the era as entertaining commentaries. But juxtaposed as they sequentially in the pages of the book, the material comes across as being repetitive and contradictory - some as rehashed from others. It is easy to accept that two luminaries might have distinct interpretations of a key event; to a critical thinker it's even valuable to have those contradictions. However, what is unforgivable is the lack of authentication of facts that are easily verifiable.

For example, in the Tito Rodríguez article, the report of Tito's final day is dated as February 28, 1972 not 1973. That might seem like a small typographical error that succeeded in slipping past Mr.Salazar, and his then magazine editor, but it also slipped past the book publisher too... two pages later, the cremation of Tito's remains regains the correct timeline. In a separate instance, the founding of Broadcast Music Incorporated (BMI) the performing rights organisation is incorrectly reported as formed in 1940 (actually 1939).

The lack of rigour in proofing and in verification, even with the simplest of facts, put me in the frame of mind of "if he got these minor things wrong, how can I trust him on the important issues - like the faithful transcription and interpretation of his interview material?"

'Mambo Kingdom' has more than its fair share of errors, plus snippets of information that have eluded verification so far. These have cast a long shadow of doubt over the factual integrity of his writing. It is a flawed work, and vitally interesting though it may be, must be treated simply as entertainingly anecdotal and thus relegated to the status to that of a secondary resource.

With such a topic of immense richness and historical significance, 'Mambo Kingdom' is simultaneously essential reading and a bitterly disappointing pill to swallow.

Loo Yen Yeo

School's Out

Okay, I know that I haven't blogged in nearly two months... actually I have an Oscar D'León review in draft form that, when I get it into a state where I can hit the "publish post" button, will precede this one. It might appear that I'm playing with time.

The reason for my absence? Copious quantitites of salsa-related activity of course.

Foremost is Facebook. I've been developing 4 de Diciembre's profile page as well as the salsa band's fan page. It's still very much a work in progress - I think it always will be, but the effort is informing the layout of Cuatro de Diciembre's pages on my personal website, hence the lack of activity on that front for now. Gaining a large number of friends has helped my understanding of numerous properties of the social networking phenomenon which I would not have known had I been using my own smaller profile page. Nothing's ever a chore when I'm learning.

Added to this is my resurgent effort at becoming a timba conguero. Sometime in between last month's post and this one, I came at last to believe that playing congas in the songo manner was personally attainable. Prior to this, I wasn't sure that I had it in me to play with the fluidity and musicality that the best Cuban congueros do, their having been steeped in their own special rhythms from the womb. That Eureka moment has had me playing more intensively now than at any other time previously in my development. It has meant that I had to design my own tools for the self-teaching process, including compiling two timba practice CDs - no small feat in themselves as it required me to rate my entire CD backlog (two and a half years' worth) and sort and collate the information, beforehand.

I'm also a significant way into Katherine Hagedorn's spectacular book "Divine Utterances" on AfroCuban religion which I will no doubt review later. Throw in a couple of DVDs: Los Van Van's "Aquí Que Baila El Gana" concert in Cuba, and the Docu-movie "Cuba Feliz" and you've got a pretty good snapshot of I've been up to.

Oh, yes. We managed to complete recording Mike on trombone, and I've been contracted to run a 10-week dance training course from late September. All that has necessitated a lot of planning and scheduling, some of which is still being finalised.

In the meanwhile, band practices have been scaled back to once a week over the summer. This will change come October as we have a couple of gigs lined up soon after, when everyone's back 'at school'.

looyenyeo

Blogging Helps

Visitors to this blog will have noticed, apart from a change to layout, the recent addition of the "labels" navigation feature.

I do apologise for the occassional randomness of the label categories - the ideas concerning Latin Culture actively defy my attempts to put them into neat cubbyholes. Indeed, they seem to squirm with indignation. Perhaps more than a useful aid to navigation, it provides you the reader with a disturbing insight into how I think.

The same condition is beginning to manifest itself in the Salsa Quotes section of the website, which I originally wanted to keep random; thinking that the constant flitting-about of subject matter would keep me from falling into a set pattern of thinking. It does work, but it makes finding quotes along the same thread difficult to find. And I shudder to think what the casual websufer would experience.

I'm at the cusp of deciding whether to put some broad categories in place; now's the time before it gets too big and this would be a sort of Labels v2.0. I'm sure a lot heretofore unrealised connections will be made, given the extent and content of the page. Maybe I could introduce the labels a little at a time... and still keep the quotes within each category random: short range disorder, long range order.

Just talked myself into going it. Thanks blog.

Loo

30th May 2008 Steel City Salsa Social@Millenium Hall, Ecclesall Road, Sheffield

Millenium Hall is a terrific venue located close to the Hunter's Bar end of Sheffield's trendy Ecclesall Road. It's commonly confused with the Polish Club which also features an events hall, to which it adjoins. With a capacity of easily more than a hundred dancers plus peripheral seating, it has a lovely wooden (albeit unsprung) floor, a bar, a low small stage, a high ceiling and decent ventilation. The latter points lend it particular strength as a dance venue, which Bill Newby of Steel City Salsa / Sheffield Tango Argentino has been doing for several years. And once every couple of months or so, he puts on a social which is well supported. His formula is also to introduce something different, like a sevillanas display, and/or guest teachers.

This time, a Kizomba lesson plus demo by Sheffield Angolan resident Antonio and guest DJ Helena of Fuego Latino shared the billing. I'd heard about kizomba, seen it on YouTube, but had never encountered it in the flesh, so last Friday seemed as good a time as any to do so.

It was a bit of a mad dash to get in from work and get there in time for the eight o'clock lesson, and I realised that despite remonstrations on the leaflet to be prompt it was to no avail. I spent the time catching up with some friends. Antonio is a slight, personable character in the local scene and this was his maiden outing as a teacher, having finally succumbed to pester power by friends. With teaching support provided by Bill and two very capable demonstrators, Antonio made it through the session. Considering it was his first time, and his lack of instructor training, I would say without a hint of condescension that he acquitted himself well. The content comprised a line-dance routine as a warm-up which he was to use again later in the night, and a couple of simple pieces of vocabulary.

Wearing my dance instructor's hat, it was most useful for me to observe his quality of movement and which parts of his body held which bits of time. It was also very interesting as a dance system, changes being led by the lead's left leg and a concommitant rhythmic cue by the body in very close hold, and different rhythms for even the basic bits of movement vocabulary. The proof of the pudding is that at the end of the session, I found myself wanting to know more about the dance - the ultimate objective of any introductory lesson.

And then the social dancing started.

I always enjoy Bill's parties. His music policy always has a fit of reggae plus RnB at past-midnight, followed by more salsa, then a smattering of tango at the end. Africando is a constant companion. Impatient salseros tend to leave when the reggae comes on, but if you take the time to enjoy the sounds of Bob Marley, you'll find yourself back in Cuban rhythms before you know it. The formula works well for the night but I suspect that if it were any more frequent, it would assume the guise of the routine.

But I find myself going there as often as I can, not because of the music, but because the atmosphere is welcoming, and the people are friendly... a good number of whom have become friends. Sadly, Sheffield seems to suffer a dearth of mid-sized salsa dance events like that of SalsaWorks in Wetherby, and Dance-Cubana's party in Nottingham. But whenever this is on, it's not unusual to see dancers from the nearby cities turn up.

Bill's social truly lives up to its name.

Loo Yen

"The World That Made New Orleans: From Spanish Silver To Congo Square" by Ned Sublette

While midway through Ned Sublette's first book "Cuba and Its Music: From the First Drums to the Mambo", I was so gripped by it that I found myself already eagerly anticipating the second volume. When the announcement came that he had delayed it in favour of a book on New Orleans, I cried "Why?" in disappointment. To me it seemed a strange detour to take. I had enjoyed his work immensely and in my selfishness wanted the story of Cuba to continue.

To all of you who have read the first book, I'm sure you would want to follow it up with this volume. Please don't make the mistake I almost did by discounting it just because New Orleans is more commonly associated with Jazz and Blues than it is Mambo and Rumba.

I feel that the general reviews of "The World That Made New Orleans", albeit excellent, have missed a trick here. This book is, as the dust cover puts it, "a logical continuation of Ned Sublette's previous volume, Cuba and Its Music"; and as such is entirely relevant to the Cuban story. After having read it, I now understand some of the "Why".

Ned Sublette alluded to the invisible water highways of the Caribbean linking all the major trading centres: the port cities, lining the entire basin and of the islands. New Orleans has consistently been a major trading partner of Havana, and later a base for privateers preying upon Spanish shipping. It was a similar hub for sugar and slaves of the "white gold" territories, and destination of exile for the French colonial elite via Baracoa and Santiago de Cuba. They would have been non-identical twins.

Mr. Sublette describes this story as joining the dots between La Española, Cuba, and Louisiana; between the French and Haitian Revolutions. I think he's being modest, his narrative is simply more multi-dimensional than that. Consider instead the threads of history - strands passing through Santo Domingo, Saint Domingue, Havana, Santiago, New Orleans, Cartagena, Paris, Madrid, Seville, Charleston... all skilfully woven into a compellingly vibrant tapestry with clear motifs.

His gift to all of us who would learn of Cuba is to discard the blinkers we didn't realise we were wearing.

I would not have thought it possible for him to write more authoritatively than in Cuba and Its Music. I've been proved wrong (and I've never been happier for the making of these errors). Ned Sublette is an unsurpassed talent. And should he persist along this skein, I will delightedly continue to think upon whatever he has to say.

Loo Yen Yeo

"Arsenio Rodriguez and the Transnational Flows of Latin Popular Music" by David F. García

Seldom does a single person make such a contribution to the development of Afro-Cuban music that his or her biography alone would form a significant chapter in the genre's history.

Arsenio Rodriguez is such a man.
And David García is such a storyteller.

I've read a number of these books, each seemingly drawn from a musicologist's thesis; and whilst thoroughly researched, logically structured, bearing robust arguments and defensible conclusions, I found a good deal of them a little dry. Not this one.

Yes, it is true that having some knowledge of music and being able to read it does help quite a bit. But I think the author has succeeded in being able to render what he has to say accessible to the layperson. The contents are laid out in chronological order, allowing the reader to appreciate the formative events in Arsenio's life and thus insight as to what moved him. A posthumous reflection on this remarkable musician's life followed.

For a man whose creativity gave us arguably, the mambo before its internationalised guise; definitively, the second coming of the son in the form of the son montuno; and the entire rhythm section of what forms salsa today: introducing the tumbadoras, developing the guajeo/montuno rhythm, and solidifying the role of the bass, Arsenio's name is little recognised outside the circles of aficionados. Whatismore, his life is shrouded in myth and hearsay - as all Great Legends' are. David García's erudite work does much to explain Arsenio Rodriguez, the man and his music: dispelling much, explaining much, and revealing an even greater man over the course. Arsenio still remains arguably the most significant songwriter of all time.

If that's not enough, then let me put it another way: if you want to know what mambo might have meant before the Palladium, and the difference between a son and a son montuno, pick up the book.

18th May 2008 Teaching Salsa @Wolfson College, Oxford.

Ten years ago a very intelligent trainee salsa teacher asked me a simple question, "where is beat one?" His name was Nicholas Marquez-Grant, I call him Nic, and I'm pretty sure that he wasn't aware of the sequence of events that he would set in motion.

I recall sitting with him on some stools in the University of Sheffield Union of Students' Raynor Lounge, listening to salsa music issuing from a CD player, indicating where the start of the dance cycle was, whilst the rest of the trainees were practising their bolero walks. It was a frustrating experience for him and me both, and I realised that I was trying to help him acquire timing, not teaching him. It exposed, in the most unkind of fashions, my lack of knowledge.

In the summer of that year, I bought my first set of congas and I began to teach myself to play. One year later, after I'd acquired a set of bongó and a range of hand percussion and learned to play them as well, I began the first of a series of AfroCuban percussion workshops. Three months following that, the band which would eventually become known as 4 de Diciembre was formed.

And in all this time, Nic had been moving on after finishing his degree in Sheffield, but we did keep in sporadic touch. He eventually ended up in Oxford, where amongst other things, he began salsa classes at Wolfson College in 2005. Nic always had it in his mind for me to visit Oxford; to see the sights, be a house-guest and perhaps a salsa-teacher-guest. And it wasn't until last weekend that our schedules coincided enough for that to happen.

Nick, Nico, Federica and Loo
(enough about 'roses and thorns')
Photograph ©Copyright 2006 Federica Ferlanti. All Rights Reserved.

My Sunday class at Wolfson's Haldane Room was booked from seven through ten in the evening, and we'd already been in much discussion beforehand about what Nic thought would be useful for his students to learn: ear-training, use of rhythm, and different types of movement. The content and the timeframe was ambitious - I've conducted similiar workshops before, albeit with much less content and more time for practice. But given that this was a one-off masterclass, we both agreed that this would be the best way to go.

The ear-training workshop has got a very different learning paradigm; students of salsa are accustomed to entering a class and working on physical skills, and many find a change to the abstract and non-physical quite disorienting. It is the greatest potential hurdle to the workshop's successful attendee buy-in.

The turnout was just right for the room size and comprised of salseros from Bea's Oxford University Dancesport Club salsa group as well as Nic's classes. In the first half of the workshop we covered: the standard set of rhythms, backbeat (tumbao moderno) and pulse (hand percussion); rhythmic agreement and complement; and ear-training. Then I encountered phenomena which I recognised from teaching the Salsa & Merengue Society's Teachers Training Group of yore, but for the first time outside of it...

Firstly, the dancers were capable of absorbing much more information before they began to saturate; secondly, they were able to focus and sustain a quality of practice; and thirdly, there was evidence of assimilation and extrapolation based on the questions they asked. So when the conventional end-point was reached, there was still enough in the tank for us to push on to understanding the meaning of "attack" (in the context of early, middle, and late beat) and its relevance to the regional music and dance styles. After a short break, we touched on biomechanics in movement and compared the general regional postures of Eastern and Western Cuba.

My main regret about doing workshops like these is the lack of follow-through. I would have loved to go on to clave, polyrhythmic expression, and to have provided enough supervised practice time. As it was, by the time we finished the only place we could find food was the-now-soon-to-be-legendary "Halal Munch", followed by a brief 30 minutes of dancing at Bar Risa.

I conducted an follow-up lesson two days later: an educator's perspective of salsa dancing in the acquired mode.

I don't travel much for leisure anymore, but I'm glad I did this time. Catching up with Nic, seeing Oxford through his eyes and meeting his friends were all great experiences. And working on salsa with such cognitively quick dancers also brought its own rewards. But most of all, I will remember last Sunday as the day I was finally able to answer an excellent question.

Loo Yen Yeo

"Bachata: A Social History of Dominican Popular Music" by Deborah Pacini Hernandez

What Deborah Pacini Hernandez does extremely well is to tell the human story of Bachata. Not once, in the easy-flowing course of narrative, does she ever lose sight of the principle that the music and dance of bachata were made by and for the consumption of people; endeavouring, as best they could, to negotiate the unhappy circumstances of their existence during the Dominican Republic's economic crises.

This is not a dry tome minimally reworked from the academic thesis of a musicologist. It is laden with the juices of humanity: bitter, sweet, sour, piquant and oftentimes salty. From bachata's rural origins as simple guitar music, its migration to the shanties, its supression, its marginalisation, and its eventual unshackling, Hernandez tells one of the greatest stories never given proper voice in modern music.

For one seeking to understand what bachata is, you will not do better than this book. Be prepared though, you will get an object lesson in what it means to be human - disinterested depravation and the determination to be heard wrestle with each other across all the pages. It is a lens through which musics raised in the same foster home: rap, reggae, salsa, might be better understood.

The book stops short, just at the threshold of Bachata's revelation on the international stage. It is a shame but then it is neat, in that those who would part the curtain behind 'Aventura' to see bachata as it was before, can do it with just one well-written book. And in so doing, will come to be reminded that bad humans do bad things; and at the same time will still take heart... for good people do act to overcome injustice.

Loo Yen Yeo

8th May 2008 Buena Vista Social Club Presents... @Sheffield City Hall

It was a last minute decision on my part to get a ticket. Strange, I know. But the nature of my work with Verdant has left me, at various times, having to drop things at short notice in order to respond to urgent queries. That's left me commitment-adverse to things like these, having been stung innumerable times before.

Also, since Buena Vista has become a brand it hasn't really been completely transparent about who is touring with which performing company; and I resent that a little. Good Cuban music is good Cuban music, irrespective of how many times I've heard it, but I've taken umbrage with how the promotion of the brand has overtaken that of the artist performers. So my indifference stems: not from having 'heard Buena Vista before', because as a performer I fully appreciate that no two gigs are ever alike, and that each has something new to offer; but from a feeling that the promoters are, through their ignorance, distancing the artists from their audiences - a course of action that goes against the very ethos of the music they're trying to promote.

On the ticket were billed Cachaito Lopes (sic), Guajiro Mirabal, Aguaje Ramos & Manuel Galban. I was entranced by Mirabal's trumpet performance when I caught him last at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester several years ago, when he was launching his CD under the Buena Vista umbrella, so he was a definite draw. As was Cachaito, although tinged with a little sadness since the passing of Cachao, and of his partner-in-musical-crime Rubén Gonzalez - the latter whom I consider to be the best son pianist of all time. Manuel Galban, let's just say I wasn't a big fan of his collaborative album with Ry Cooder 'Mambo Sinuendo'.

With band practice cancelled since a number of 4 de Diciembre were going to be at City Hall, a seasonably clement May evening, and myself happily fed with Dim Sum from Mei's, I took my place: a seat in the Gods. The auditorium was nearly sold out and the air wore a polite hubbub.

Then they came on to stage, a thirteen-strong lineup of bongó, congas, timbales, piano, bass, trombone, two trumpets, sax/flute, hollowbody electric guitar, laúd, and two vocalists. Much to my delight there wre two other greats of the original Buena Vista lineup: Amandito Valdés on timbales and Babarito Torres on laúd, whom I've been very keen to see live.

There isn't much I could say that there hasn't been said already... and there are only so many superlatives in the world. I do like the continuation of the franchise through the inclusion of younger musicians with the venerables - every single one a consummate artist. I particularly liked the addition of a strong female vocal who gave a new dimension to their sound. In the end, I found that they played with the elegance of such understated ease, the warmth of which I likened to the feel of "an intimate performance in a friend's front room, to which we had all been invited".

A standing ovation brought them out for an encore, Cachaito the star having to be helped on and off-stage. His advancing years, I feel sadly, made more physically apparent by the passing of Rubén, whom they paid homage to. There was another standing ovation as the lights came on at the end, which Cachaito gracefully accepted.

Despite my misgivings about the some uncouth heathens who propel the Buena Vista brand forward, their work is valuable nonetheless in bringing such music to the reaches of our world. The talent of the older generation, and the even more precocious talent of the younger, should ensure that the trademark of riches from currently-communist Cuba remains in rude health.

Loo Yen Yeo

25th April 2008 SalsaWorks @The Engine Shed, Wetherby

This concert was quite a while in the planning. True, Tony and I had agreed this in principle well before the beginning of this year, but getting the nitty-gritties sorted out took a little bit longer than expected.

4 de Diciembre giving it the beans at the Engine Shed

The first thing was Easter. Originally, our gig was planned for the end of March but Alfredo and Christine (Sueño Latino), Tony and Mary's (SalsaYork) SalsaWorks collaborators at the Engine Shed weren't sure about the level of attendance over the holiday break. Perfectly understandable - putting on a band even at mate's rates is a BIG commitment. So we moved it by a month (incidentally our Preston gig filled the vacated slot instead, and the dancers' support there was very good indeed).

The second consideration was that of PA. The Engine Shed has a built-in PA system that is billed by the owner Dave as a surround system covering two floors. One proposal was that we us it and just bring in an engineer with a desk and monitors. Dan and I were a little sceptical - trying to mix Front-of-House (FoH) with a surround instead of 'point' source can be an absolute nightmare. Whereas Tony had contact numbers of some engineers who would be willing enough to work with it, I thought it warranted a closer look. A couple of abortive attempts later, we made a scouting trip to The Engine Shed on a Friday night.

Salsa at the Engine Shed, Wetherby
Taken early on in the evening; it's just warming up.

I'm glad we did. The 'surround' system consisted of four speakers suspended from a rig - one over each corner of the dance floor firing inward. The bass bins were mounted against the wall in the pitched roof! And connections from the desk into the wall were based on unbalanced TRS 1/4" jacks. Whilst possibly suitable for DJ decks and recorded music, it would take an engineer braver than we knew to take on a live gig with an 11-strong ensemble like 4 de Diciembre. There were a number of us from the band there that night, and we took the chance to dance and chat with the attendees to get a feel of the atmosphere.

Gig day was a Friday, and the band needed to get there in different batches since some of us had taken the day off work and others didn't. Everything was back to normal with hitches aplenty; it seemed as if they had taken a vacation for our Nottingham gig and were not back with a vengeance. The biggest "hiccup" I encountered co-ordinating our setup was with the venue owner Dave: I don't know what it was, whether he wasn't happy at having to open the place early for us to soundcheck (he wanted to kick us out before we'd done just so that he could go home and change), or perhaps he took our preference for using Blast PA as casting aspersions on his...

As a professional, it was a time for both Chris of Blast and me to grin and bear it.

On the PA side though, things were amazing. We were always going to be up against the gun because there were very little time between the whole band being constituted and the doors opening. Sound check was going to have to go like greased lightning. This is where the Yamaha LS9 Digital Desk came into its own. Chris had saved the individual instrument EQ settings from our Nottingham gig, which established a rough start-point once he'd finished dialling into the room's acoustics. The stage was very tight for eleven musicians plus instruments, stands and monitors; we weren't able to place the monitors in the best locations and Jan on violin was plagued by the feedback gremlin a couple of times during the night.

But the really staggering bit from a techie perspective was that Chris had gotten the desk control software installed on his laptop and linked to the desk itself via a wireless connection. This meant that during the course of our soundcheck, Chris was free to move about the venue to deliver an unparalleled coverage of sound. He could also move to the monitors beside each of us to give us exactly the foldback we individually required. No longer tied to the desk, I spied him about different parts of The Engine Shed during the night, tweaking our sound via the laptop. It's a brave new world.

Tennis Ace Martina Navratilova famously said, "What matters isn't how well you play when you're playing well. What matters is how well you play when you're playing badly." Such is our level of consistency that we reliably deliver a top-notch performance even under duress. And that's what matters. Hassle from the owner, lack of a dressing room to prepare in, cramped performing conditions, and poorliness failed to take their toll. At times like these, it is of paramount importance to focus on who you're playing for.

It's ironic how from stage, it didn't feel as if the playing came to us as easily as it did at "Dance Cubana", and therefore we inferred that we didn't play as well as we did then. This proved not to be the case at all. We have our own hard disk recorders which we use to immortalise digitally every concert we play. And upon listening back to them, I find both to have been of comparable standard, with each having similar proportions of better-played songs.

Human perception is a very funny thing.

4 de Diciembre offers me personally a unique opportunity to put my money where my mouth is. Having promoted a fair number of salsa events in my own time, I'd said time and time again that Latin music bands could more to lend value to their public than by simply delivering their songs.

When Alfredo, who was at my 12th Night Extravaganza workshop a few months ago, asked if we could provide the rhythm for the lesson warm-up beforehand, Jeremy and I were only too happy to oblige. It made the occassion seem a little bit more special, and got the dancers used to the feel of live music. And I joined the dance class once again, a bachata this time, to close the distance between dancer and musician. And Alfredo and Tony trusted me well enough to leave me to time the playing of our sets in order to build the best atmosphere.

4 de Diciembre sidestage: a foldback engineer's perspective

In the end, it turned out happily (even for Dave). Was is worth the tribulations? Yes. Christine, Mary, Alfredo and Tony were, as always, very gracious hosts. SalsaWorks saw its second-best attendance numbers in its history. The dance floor was always full, the atmosphere was vibrant, and smiles were to be seen all 'round.

The cheeky dances I snuck in before leaving were the icing on the cake.

Loo Yeo

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