These experiences enriched her writing and singing style and opened the door to many future involvements with other jazz artists. In 1979 Carmen came in contact with jazz guitarist Chuck Loeb, who she met while he was performing in Madrid with the legendary jazz saxophonist Stan Getz. Although she was extremely busy at the time, performing in the Teatro Monumentál production of the hit show “El Diluvio Que Viene” at night, and recording all day, Carmen made sure to attend the Getz appearance in Madrid because of her intense love of Bossa Nova, and in particular the landmark Getz/Gilberto recording where she first discovered the music of Antonio Carlos Jobim.
After one of the shows, Carmen and Chuck met, and it was love at first sight. Over the next few months they stayed in contact, despite Carmen’s busy work scene and Chuck’s touring, and within six months of their first encounter, Carmen relocated to New York City, and they were married, with Getz acting as best man at their wedding. In July of the same year her first daughter Christina was born and her life took a completely new direction. Within another year she had Elizabeth, her second daughter, and she made the decision to devote herself entirely to her family. Any spare time she had, she used for her other two loves; tennis and literature. She went back to college and slowly started to work towards her degree in English Literature.
In 1996, when her daughters were a bit older and in school many hours each day, Carmen re-focused her energies on her own music once again. She recorded and released her first CD as a solo recording artist, One Kiss, and began to step back into the music world. With the release of her second CD, Peace of |Mind, on Skip Records, she established herself as a singer and songwriter with a unique style and sound, blending her love and knowledge of many musical flavors, with her mellifluous voice, accompanied by some of the foremost talents in contemporary music including saxophonist Bill Evans, and pianist Bob James. The next CD in 2002 was Dreams, which was a richly layered introspective work, again featuring a slew of top musicians including saxophonist Michael Brecker and bassist John Patitucci, among others.
Then in 2006, after the family moved to an Island in South Carolina, she released the deeply personal You Still Don’t Know Me CD, where on the title track you can hear her begin to rekindle her love of Brazilian music, as well as some haunting personal dedications to her recently departed father, “Tarde”, and social commentary on the song “Religions”, and another collaboration with the late Michael Brecker on the song “Todo Para Ti”, one of his last recordings. Over the span of these four recordings, Carmen’s music grew in popularity, receiving worldwide recognition and a growing international following. 2008 brought the 50th Anniversary of the Bossa Nova, and Carmen and Chuck took the occasion to put together a show celebrating the music that brought them together, especially that of Antonio Carlos Jobim. They toured with an all-star group featuring Will Lee, Eric Marienthal, and the wonderful Brazilian percussionist Café, among others, and found themselves re-discovering their deep love of the music. It was a true labor of love for Carmen; first working, painstakingly on beautiful, poetic translations of the original lyrics from Portuguese to Spanish, and then after coming up against some legal issues, she dove into the arduous task of learning to sing the songs in the original Portuguese. The result, Mi Bossa Nova, is classic Carmen Cuesta.
Carmen is excited about her new partnership with Sony Records Poland, and the debut of her own label Tweety Records, and is ready to begin touring and doing concerts in support of the new CD this Spring and Summer. She and Chuck split their time between the United States and Spain with their two daughters, Christina and Lizzy and their pet sparrow, Tweedy.
(Source: carmencuesta.com)


There is a quiet, almost invisible blue flame that burns brightly when Carmen Cuesta pronounces the words in the lyrics of her songs. She seems to relish each word as she breaks it down, with brilliant and svelte enunciation and then employing phrasing that is perfectly accented. She has the advantage, of course, of having a perfectly made instrument—her voice—which she “plays” with sublime control and quiet majesty on Toda Una Vida. Moreover, her interaction with the other instruments might be one-sided—such is the splendour of her voice—were it not for the spectacular second line: the magnificence of the guitars played by Chuck Loeb and on “Contigo aprendí,” the wonderful Antonio Serrano, whose chromatic harmonica is played with just as much bewitching grandeur and emotion, as if it were an extension of his own voice. But this is Carmen Cuesta’s recording from top to bottom. She even turns a Brasilian classic into a magical Spanish song (“Eu sei que vu te amar”). This is duende; that tortured almost too-much-to-bear emotion heard and felt in the here and now.



