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Arvito: The Harvey Averne Story – The Interview – Part III

THE INTERVIEW – Part III – August, 2008 – April, 2009:
Conversations Between CHICO ALVAREZ PERAZA and HARVEY AVERNE
CAP: I have noticed that today’s latin jazz is so much more diverse than it was back then. Of course, we could say that the musicians in New York picked up where the Cubans had left off, but that would be speculating. It’s my contention that the Cubans were not alone in their endeavor, and that various ethnic groups were also responsible for the development of this hybrid music. For example, I have recently been enlightened as to just how much American Jews have contributed to the dissemination of what we latinos stubbornly refer to as “our music”. Virtually no credit is given to them (nor to Afro-Americans for that matter). The borscht belt is but one piece of the puzzle, I suppose. And no one has yet to examine the South American influences. Still, the genesis of it all can be found in the Havana-New Orleans connection. Having said that – and with a bit of indignation – I can’t help but wonder what brilliant elitist-wanna-be-genius-authority-on-latin-music mind has now come up with the idea that “El Barrio” is the birthplace of “latin jazz”. This kind of irresponsible writing only serves to create more confusion and propagate certain myths, not to mention that it totally misinforms the very gullible younger generation. I am quite sure that “regionalism” will once again rear its ugly head on this matter.
HA: Chico, this is deep. Let me just say that without Cuban music and American jazz we would not have anything resembling latin jazz, but I have to say that Harlem did play a major role in its development. For me, that’s where it all came together. Up until this day if you walk down the streets of El Barrio on a nice day and listen to the music coming from the cars, apartments and shops you will notice that it is not the sounds of latin jazz that you hear (for the most part anyway). Do the same walk in Harlem and you will find that the Afro-Cuban Jazz influence there is much stronger.
CAP: Harvey, when it comes to Afro-Cuban Jazz, we both know that it’s not just about the Cubans, but the revisionists are nonetheless working overtime to “set the record straight” as they say. They want to prove that everything comes out of New York, and that Spanish Harlem is the epicenter of everything “latino”. What these self-proclaimed musicologists fail to see is that this music had already gone through its own cultural metamorphosis – long before they even heard of it. Fernando Ortiz coined the phrase “transculturation” and he traced the seeds of that process to places like New Orleans, Havana, Veracruz, Cartagena, Caracas, Paris etc. Perez Prado may have produced his jazzed-up version of the “mambo” while in Mexico and the Harlemites may have given the music a new name – “Cubop” – but by that time it was thoroughly documented (through films and recordings) as Cuba’s “popular” music. The earliest forms have been preserved for posterity, available as we speak on youtube.com and illustrated in academically well-edited books. And I’m not talking about your local Mickey Mouse cub reporter types either, I’m referring to all those eyewitnesses who “lived” the experience and who are a lot more knowledgeable than the sabelotodos who are just beginning to get their feet wet. There are a few writers who are really trying to get it right, no doubt. But they only scratch the surface. Back in the day – I’m talking pre-Fania here – we had some real scholars. They did their homework, putting in long hours of research, meeting with and interviewing the progenitors. So you see, there is indeed a consensus of opinion among educators that we had visionaries in both countries (USA and Cuba) who had been merging these two musical worlds since the early part of the twentieth century. The problem is that the main focus has (always) been on the Chano Pozo/Dizzy Gillespie/Mario Bauza/Machito collaborations. Sadly, after the 1962 trade embargo the cultural interplay between the two countries was no longer available. The late Louie Ramirez and I spoke at length about this. As you know, his uncle was the great pianist Joe Loco. I don’t know, is it just me, or did you also notice that after they shut down Cuba, latin jazz began to diminish in popularity.
HA: You are correct Chico. And I do see where you’re coming from. Your dislike for the “authoritarian” know-it-all types is only equal to my utter disdain for “traditionalists” (not to be confused with “tradition”, which I deeply respect). After the embargo, latin jazz was sort of relegated to maybe a handful of artists who really pushed it to the max. It was hip music, and mostly stayed within the realm of dance rhythms, so it’s appeal was far more universal than straight ahead traditional and very improvisational jazz. And it wasn’t ethnically restricted, I would say it was actually inclusive. On the other hand, straight ahead jazz got way too elitist. Jazz fans, for the most part are really an elitist and closed minded bunch. Yeah, they love the music, but rather than nurture it, they stiffle it. They have evolved into the sabelotodo/anti-change/anti-growth/anti/experimentation “traditionalist” group (if I stated this before, screw it, let them hear it again, it deserves repeating, because repetition is their mantra and their way of life any damned way).
CAP: Pretty strong words, Harvey. Looks like it’s you who are starting to go deep now.
HA: I know, but it’s true. Look, any time that a jazz artist deviated from traditional jazz and experimented, as was the case in Miles Davis’ “Bitches Brew” album for example, they were brutally attacked by the whole entire “traditionalist” jazz establishment, including their so-called “jazz fans”. Some are in a way like the elitist Upper West Side New York Times loving type book crowd (only certain books and writing styles are acceptable, everything else is looked down and frowned upon). The “Holier Than Thou”, high and mighty intellectual set. The bullshit is even worse in the art field, those poor bastards had to starve, cut off their ears, die and be buried in the ground -for God knows how long- before their art became fashionable, sold in the auction houses and galleries and later displayed in the museums of the world. The upper echelon snobbish assholes who made the artist’s lives a living hell wound up earning multi-millions of dollars buying, selling, and (finally) appreciating the artist’s work. In turn, the real artists leave our world penniless, feeling insecure and insignificant. They die wondering if their life’s work was valid or had some meaning, or whether it was of less than minor importance. I’m sure Vincent Van Gogh (wherever he is) must be grateful for the adoration and love bestowed on him now, even if it is just a little late, don’t you think? At least he had the interest, love, encouragement and support from his brother Theo. Some never even get that.
CAP: Well Mr. Averne, you are as they say “pulling no punches” today.
HA: Chico, I’m going for the TKO on this one. Allow me to personally thank the “traditionalist establishment” of the various art forms on behalf of all the dead composers, artists, musicians, playwrights, authors, etc. who lived miserable sub-standard lives waiting for that much delayed societal approval. The way that our new talent is treated, encouraged and nurtured is inane and completely unforgivable as far as I’m concerned. History proves that from the beginning of time our society has had an innate fear of any new or different ideas in regards to science, philosophy, religion, basic freedoms etc. Remember Columbus and the world is flat scenario? And Freud’s theories of the human subconscious and the sexual instincts of man? Old Sigmund really shook up western civilization, and for this he paid dearly. And, if my memory serves me correctly Galileo lived out his final years under house arrest for the invention of the telescope. How fucked up is that Chico?
CAP: It’s as bad as it gets, I guess.
HA: Having said that, allow me to once again cite the Miles Davis “Bitches Brew” album as the perfect example. My brother is a worshipper of all things traditional. Period. He is an “only traditional jazz will do” type jazz lover and a former saxophonist. As a “traditionalist” he still hasn’t forgiven Miles for going electric on that album. All Miles did was plug some electric cords into a socket and experiment with some new sounds that he was hearing in that genius brain of his. Mind you, it was all about the instruments, albeit electric, played by great musicians requiring no less expertise or talent than on the acoustic instruments. God forbid we should allow that fact into the equation. Simply put, no new instruments or sounds would be permitted. The innovators were put on notice.
CAP: The “audacity of change” – to borrow a line from president Obama.
HA: Yes, and for that Sir Miles Davis was vilified and crucified. That’s right, I’m talking about Mr. Miles Davis, the ultimate non-comformist. “How dare he betray us”! Was he also expected to die frustrated, driven mad by conformity? I highly recomend reading a short piece by Maya Angelou entitled “Haters”.
CAP: I happen to think that “Bitches Brew” is a perfect example of what you’re talking about Harvey, although every one of Miles’ albums was a “first”.
HA: Of course they were. But to the best of my knowledge that was Miles’ biggest album ever. Even more importantly, “Bitches Brew” brought so many new fans to jazz music, which it desperately needed then, needs now and will always need. It was that same “traditionalist” elitist mentality that loved the Buena Vista Social Club to the exclusion of all the other Cuban and Latin bands. The same crowd that couldn’t see past Buena Vista and appreciate the great bands from New York, Cuba and the Caribbean. It was musicians like Eddie Palmieri, Adalberto Alvarez, Papo Lucca, Eddie Zervigon, Larry Harlow, etc. who brought something fresh into the traditional Cuban repertoire. They built upon that traditional foundation, and never lost site of its roots. Their respect for the old masters such as Arsenio Rodriguez, Fajardo, Lilí Martinez, Aragón, etc. came through in every record they ever made. What Buenavista did was a complete about face, that is to say that they actually took it way back in time, to the roots, which was beautiful in its own right. No one ever knocked what they did, on the contrary we all respect them greatly for giving us that foundation. But we must also acknowledge that there are many new artists who continue to build upon that foundation, thereby enhancing our traditional values. I think that it is an affront to those values to create a musical time freeze within which all refinement or experimentation cannot be respectfully encouraged or analyzed with an open mind. That which cannot be permitted to evolve will surely decay over time. To block the most creative minds in our talent pool is to sentence them (and us) to a life of repetition in an ever changing world. Granted, every new and different idea throughout man’s history began its journey crudely, rough around the edges, much like we all do at the beginning of our lives. Hopefully, with proper education and encouragement we can become valuable contributing members of society. This is something that the”traditionalists” can’t seem to get straight!

CAP: I see what you mean Harvey, but still, these so called “elitists” were not then and are certainly not now in the majority, they are and always will be a minority.
HA: Yes, but they have amazing power and are very influential in political and economic circles. Also with the media as well. I think Buena Vista’s debut album did approximately a million units. It was that elitist minority who initially supported Buenavista and who eventually pulled the latino audience into it, but that was way later. Let me point something out to you and the readers. Initially, Buena Vista Social Club was a very interesting promotional concept that began to snowball beautifully according to plan. Long before the movie ever came out it was a home run. People (and they know who they are) who never called me to discuss any specific musical work were now calling to tell me about this fabulous Cuban group and this great new album that they had purchased at Barnes & Noble or Borders. The album was beautifully executed, but musically speaking there was absolutely nothing new about it except the addition of American pop artist Ry Cooder and his twangy Hawaiian guitar sound. To me the most remarkable achievement was that some 1000 plus years of Cuban historical talent was still able to perform in the studio and on stage so well. More than fifty years ago Harlow and I were learning our craft listening to the same music and loving it while growing up in Brooklyn. Buenavista was a resurgence that turned into a grass roots word of mouth movement and a promotion campaign of the highest degree. First of all, the word was out that Buenavista would never get any airplay because the stateside Cuban owned radio stations and the Spanish media would boycott them as they did every other artist from Cuba. Therefore, Nonesuch Records didn’t waste any money on traditional promotional methods, not a dime was spent on radio promotion or TV. Instead, they spent their initial promotional budget at Barnes & Noble, Borders book stores, Starbucks, etc., places where the intellectual bunch go to read, buy books and music or just drink coffee. That was exactly how they started to promote this group’s album. Secondly, there was a political angle to it as well, which helped sell the concept. Can you imagine this? Here we have a group of senior Cuban artists who had long been discarded and forgotten in their own homeland and who were not being formally recognized in the USA because of the dreaded embargo! It seemed to be the politically correct thing to write about then, and would be even more appropriate now. Their story received a lot of ink, in the New York Times, Washington Post, LA Times, Time Magazine, Newsweek, etc. It was a great story, very romantic. The musicians themselves were very good, and then you had an icon like Ry Cooder promoting them as well. Cooder was the brains behind the whole thing and I’m not surprised that a non-latino had the vision and was responsible for the success of the project. Often times it takes an outsider to see something that those who are in the middle of it all cannot. Kind of like the old “you can’t see the forest for the trees” syndrome. Initially and for a good while, the CD sold mostly in book stores, etc. and very little in record stores and other outlets. Little by little it mushroomed into a monster seller. Of course, when the record and big box stores saw how well it was selling, they picked up on it and immediately stocked it.
CAP: I can understand the analogy here, but this was long after the demise of latin jazz. It seems odd to me that you would cite the jazz purists exclusively, as I do recall that it was those same purists who fell head over heels in love with Machito’s Roulette recording of “Kenya”, which remains to this day a classic piece of music and a prime example of how well fusion can work. In contrast to what you have said, the “latino music purists” of that era (for lack of a better word) rejected that album totally (at that time). The rejection worked in reverse. In regards to that type of purism, they were no better than the jazz elitists that you have mentioned here Harvey. And there were other factors involved. First and foremost, I think, the “salsa” boom overshadowed latin jazz, even though many salsa bands still played it somewhat. Subsequently we had all these other modalities which came later, such as merengue house, funk, disco, reggaeton, etc., and even the newly arrived timba, which is nothing more than old school funk with a lot of Afro-Cuban percussion and jazz/rap vocals added on top. Each one of these fads has taken their toll, and has invariably swayed the listener’s attention away from latin jazz. While we baby boomers still remember it fondly, the now generation does not seem to care much about it. Let’s look at some of the causes for that, from your perspective that is.
HA: Okay. Initially, Jerry Massucci was one of the main causes, at least I have to think so.You see, Fania was like Motown in many ways. Motown started out black, then it changed its focus and its image within the genre. Fania on the other hand created an image. In its own way, it was a movement, even stronger I think in latin music than Motown was in r&b/soul, where you still had Atlantic, Stax/Volt and all the other labels competing within that market and genre. Even so, it is the Motown sound that to this day remains the most powerful force ever from the genre of black American music, as evidenced by how much Motown material we hear every day in movies, TV radio, commercials, compilation albums etc. And so it is with Fania – only to a lesser degree – because it is a musical and ethnic niche that could never captivate the anglo mainstream.
CAP: Why so?
HA: Too much prejudice still abounds in our country. Yet “Our Latin Thing” remains so amazingly resilient and powerful in the “latin” world and beyond. Motown and Fania were very similar in that they both signed younger artists and had more of a street sound. Even with the established artists like Pacheco, Harlow and Barretto, it was a very young Willie Colon with Hector Lavoe, Ruben Blades and later on Ismael Miranda who sold the most units.To have been on Fania was and remains a prestigious thing. People would go into a record store and ask: “what’s new on Fania?” and still do because of all the excellent compilations that are being released every month.
CAP: A very popular and influential label indeed, but there were two other latin labels who were competing strongly with Fania as well, weren’t there? Caytronics and your own label, Coco.
HA: Yes, and I’ve been told that collectors, audiophiles and hard-core latin music lovers did something similar with my label. They would go into a record store and buy almost everything new that came out on Coco. I think that this was because the quality of Coco’s productions and our much smaller carefully chosen artist roster. We had built a trusting relationship with our audience and the radio. The expectation was that if it was on Coco it had to be good. My label had to go to tremendous extremes to be different than Fania, which we did intentionally and I thank God to a great degree it worked.
CAP: And Caytronics?
HA: Truthfully, Caytronics never really got that big with the young crowd anyway. Joe Cayre was a brilliant business man, and he made out like a bandit by licensing product from RCA, Columbia, Ariola, and other companies from abroad as well, displaying and selling his product in large big box retail outlets and chain stores around the USA and Puerto Rico. But he didn’t have the passion for the music in the same way Jerry and I did. You pretty much had to produce your own music to get “into it” the way we did. Don’t get me wrong, Joe Cayre did put out some great music on the label’s two subsidiaries, Mericana and Salsoul (ie Cachao, Roberto Torres, Chocolate and Grupo Folklorico y Experimental). His licensed product included Vicky Carr, Roberto Carlos, Camilo Sesto and the icon Julio Iglesias, who was a very big seller. The big labels at that time, RCA, Columbia, Ariola, etc. were not licensing or releasing music that their own subsidiaries were recording in all the Latin American countries and Mexico. Yes, there were three labels that were manufacturing large amounts of records, but they were all different. I was the only one who was competing with Fania big time. Caytronics had no competition at the time, amazing but true. There were other labels that popped up later on, when Coco was no longer around, but they never produced the quality of music that Coco did. I never viewed myself as a “salsa producer only”, as I produced all types of latin music. Nor did I view Coco as just a “salsa” record company. From the beginning, Coco was conceived as a full service Spanish record company, period. Even before the Eddie Palmieri fiasco, I had started to branch out. I could never understand why Morris Levy and Jerry Massucci didn’t want to encompass the full spectrum of latin music. You went into these countries and it was always the same distribution set-up, maybe some different radio stations or formats, maybe a few deejays would be mixing different genres, but the potential for sales was always there. If it was in Spanish, and it was very good, then there was no reason for me not to put it out, promote and sell it. So you see Coco was different than Fania from the gitgo, and I wanted us to be different. I could never have competed with Jerry’s beloved Fania label by releasing only “salsa” records and imitating his business model. Also important in Coco’s development was my love for all the different styles and flavors of “la musica latina”. I could never be that one dimensional. Coco had monster hits in balada (Spanish rock ballad) pop, musica folklorica and of course my beloved “salsa”.The bar that Coco set musically with “The Sun Of Latin Music” for salsa was also set for latin jazz via Cortijo’s “La Maquina Del Tiempo” (Time Machine). In latin pop the standard bearer was “Muy Amigos” featuring “Para Decir Adios”. Among the New York style charanga bands it was Orchestra Broadway’s “Pasaporte” featuring “Isla Del Encanto” that broke the mold. In Puerto Rican folkloric music it was Danny Rivera’s “Alborada”, an album that was way ahead of its time.

CAP: Seems to me that neither you nor Jerry Massucci were interested in latin jazz, am I correct?
HA: Look Chico, personally I loved it, but as a businessman I could not afford to invest time and money in such a small market, not back then, and certainly not now either. The TropiJazz label drove Ralph Mercado into bankruptcy, or at the very least it was the beginning of his problems. At one point in time I asked him: “why are you wasting your money and energy on this music that is selling so poorly?” You see we had that kind of relationship. I could talk to him, and he had respect for my opinion. I was the record man and he was the promoter. He was selling aproximately six thousand units of his top TropiJazz artists like Tito Puente, Eddie Palmieri and even less on releases by Giovanni Hidalgo, etc. He showed me some numbers that made me gasp. The artwork alone on one of Giovanni’s CD’s cost him six big ones, because he had to do the cover art twice! It seems that Giovanni did not like the way the cover came out, a cover which he himself had commissioned. I said: “Ralphy, this is a losing proposition, there are very few outlets to expose this music to the public”. I mean there was only one major jazz station that was playing his artists. He told me that he always wanted to be number one in some category of the record business, and that could only happen in the latin jazz category. Maybe he loved the music enough to take the risks he was taking. I just don’t know. The reality was that these records were not selling well, and TropiJazz was consistently bleeding money. Now you might be thinking, well then, what were the reasons? Was it lack of exposure? Lack of outlets? Or simply lack of demand? When we venture into such a territory we have to be able to control these things. We have to be in control of the marketing, the distribution and the promotion in order to create the demand. You can take that any way you want to, but that’s the name of the game in the record business. So then, if we assume that he did have those things under control, what else could have resulted such low sales figures? For me, lack of demand is the only logical answer.
CAP: Are you saying then that it was the music that did itself in?
HA: Let me put it this way Chico. I think that the latin jazz of the fifties and sixties was better music, and today’s musicians are partly to blame for the lack of demand. I’m going to use this as a point of reference, when a jazz player first comes to New York, their initial work probably is going to be with the latin bands, specially if they’re horn players, but this goes for other instrumentalists also. You usually break into the New York scene by playing latin music, because there is or at least there was a lot of work in that field. That was the case in my time. Back then most of the good bands were doing doubles and triples. If you were a new guy in town and the musicians liked the way you played they would recommend you to the latin bandleaders they knew. Anyway, Chick Corea was around at that time, and I needed a piano player for a gig. Marty Sheller was playing with me and he brought Chick to play with the Arvito band a few times. Chick is a great all around player, and has had a beautiful career as a jazzman, but since those early days, he has not really done a lot of latin music, possibly none at all I would say. So, what’s been happening for too long a time is that for some reason – and I’m no expert on this – but maybe, once the artists get back into the jazz circuit they get a little too high falootin’ and never again visit their latin roots. I have always wondered about that. Certainly, Eddie Palmieri has never forsaken those roots – and remember – I haven’t heard an awful lot of latin jazz in the last few years. There aren’t a lot of places to hear it either, unless you buy a recording. I also often wonder how Paquito D’Rivera and Arturo Sandoval’s jazz records are doing – sales wise that is. I know that Dave Valentin has made a bunch of records and Poncho Sanchez also records quite often. I wonder how they are really selling. That’s always in the back of my mind, because I like all that stuff, it’s really good music and I wish it would make a comeback and find an audience. But it has to be more commercial for me to get back into it, most of it just doesn’t stand up to the more melodic classic latin jazz of my era. Also Chico, you know how I hate making good musical productions that basically don’t get heard and never see the light of day.
CAP: I know, I know, and in my early days I too had my share of “tax shelters”. As far as TropiJazz is concerned though, I won’t dispute what you say Harvey, because I haven’t seen the figures. But I can say (from experience) that latin jazz is definitely a musician’s genre, and that they do support it, among themselves. You know, musicians actually buy CD’s these days. But the general public? Well that’s another story. I personally don’t think that they do, otherwise you would see and hear a lot more bands playing latin jazz and record companies recording it.
HA: Well Chico, it’s not a business then, is it? If the musicians are not hard-wired enough to incorporate both styles with recognizable elements into their repertoire and the public is not attracted to what they are playing, like the bands used to do in the old days, or like the case of the well promoted Buenavista Social Club, then maybe they deserve what is happening to them. I just don’t know. It’s hard enough for latino musicians to get their own typical music played, much less getting any of their more jazzy stuff to cross into the mainstream. Anyway, I feel the music which I produced for Coco was also very well received and respected by musicians and critics alike, even if it wasn’t all that jazz tinged. If the bands that I produced and worked with back then could do it, why can’t the bands of today do it?
CAP: Personally, I try to separate the two different musical categories. Whenever the gig calls for latin jazz, then that’s what I play, sans the vocals. If it calls for a more dance oriented music, with strong vocals then that’s what I give them, with more emphasis on the montuno and less free-blowing. Some audiences are comfortable with both styles. For the most part, the music falls into separate categories, and even the radio stations divide it up this way. It’s not like in the Palladium era, when both styles were incorporated into the repertoire, fifty-fifty, and when the radio stations featured both styles within their playlists. On my radio show of course, I do just the opposite, I mix them all up, because there are no restrictions on me, in terms of what I can or cannot play. That’s the beauty of non-commercial radio, you are not being tagged as this thing or that. At least I’m not.
HA: That was also the case in my early experiences as a bandleader. No one could pigeon-hole me. Remember that I had Marty Sheller working with my band, and he was very well versed in both styles, which meant that we had a healthy balance of both jazz and latin. Marty really knows how to get a nice blend and he incorporated that fusionistic approach again during his time with Mongo. The same thing happened with Eddie’s first band “La Perfecta”, when he had Barry Rogers playing with him. In retrospect I think that most latin bands had that kind of integrated sound, although not all of them to the same degree. But to me, the consumate latin jazz recording of my time was done by Sabu Martinez, and that was another project in which Marty was involved. It was a black cover with an illustration on the cover, I think it was a bongosero or a conga player.
CAP: You must mean “Sabu’s Jazz Espagnole”, which by the way was a commercial flop for Al Santiago’s Alegre label. Yet, it still remains a helluva recording, a classic among classics.
HA: That’s the one Chico. And I still love it, even though I haven’t heard it in thirty years. It’s my favorite latin jazz album from that time period. I think it was recorded live at Birdland, with Marty Sheller playing trumpet solos and doing some of the killer charts. I even think Frank Malabe and Bobby Porcelli were in the band, and Symphony Sid had something to do with it as the announcer on the recording. It’s been a long time since, but I know that both Marty and Frankie were in the Arvito band at a very young age prior to that recording, so I guess my ability to spot young up and coming talent has always been an important element in my career. My active search for new talent continued long after my performing days were over and still continues. It always gives me great pleasure to discover new and talented artists. Believe me when I say that I can appreciate both Al Santiago’s and Ralph Mercado’s willingness to record this music and these artists, despite taking a financial beating by doing so. We all loved this music, and we all made some records that didn’t sell well, but made us feel warm inside. That’s the nature of the beast. But we must always try to remember that we are in the music and record business and we have the same problems, responsibilities and obligations as every other business.
CAP: I take it then that the TropiJazz label was not successful in its endeavor, correct?
HA: Correct. But don’t take my word for it, I would ask Eddie Rodriguez if I were you, he practically ran that label. He knows the figures, but I can tell you right now that very few of those albums ever sold six thousand units, if they ever got that high and most sold a lot less. All those albums cost way too much to produce, considering the soft sales potential, there was just no profit coming in. The lesser known artists sold even less copies. What they did was create a resurgence among the musicians who loved to play that music. The reality is that latin jazz was something that Ralphy liked and he wanted to do right by it. If the major labels would have decided to invest in that music then he would have never been number one in latin jazz. He cornered the market so to speak, but the market betrayed him, and it was only good to a handful of artists, those who had the big names made their money on the gigs. What happened to Ralph Mercado was not unique, other latin jazz labels met the same fate.
CAP: In your opinion, what would bring back latin jazz to the point where it was in the sixties? Please sum up this whole phenomenon for us, if you will. (Harvey pauses for a long moment)
HA: Maybe some good songs, by this I mean “hit” songs. Material that is really musically sound to begin with – not necessarily original – but hey, enough with the standards already. Something that has the attraction of a “Watermelon Man” or a “Mas Que Nada”, something with a really good commercial hook. You know, everything doesn’t have to be instrumental. A lot of these artists are really just showing off their chops, and they don’t take into consideration that the audience may not want to hear a fifteen minute solo. Why not make the solos shorter, and don’t start blowin’ right away. Constructing a good performance is like romancing a woman. The first thing to come out of your mouth should not be “hey baby, let’s jump into bed”, even if that’s what you both want to happen. No, you take her out, you have some nice conversation, you wine, you dine, you make her feel comfortable, a strong communication must be established, and then you hope that what you show her, (who you really are) creates some interest on her part. You do the same thing with an audience, and it doesn’t matter whether they are a jazz audience or not. You first have to find your audience and then meet them at their level. Then you take them step by step on a musical journey with you. Don’t just play for your own enjoyment or to impress other musicians, play to the audience and to the guys in the band. If you do your best to please them, then hopefully they will feel your good vibes and follow your lead. By the way, this holds true for any kind of music. You can’t just hit ’em on the head and say “dig this, I’m bad”! The last thing you want to do is act like an arrogant putz– (that’s Jewish for jerk) – and don’t disrespect them afterwards by implying “wow, this was a great album and nobody bought it – it was way over their heads and that’s why it didn’t sell”. It’s so easy to blame the audience for everything. “People don’t know shit” is a phrase that I’ve heard come out of musicians mouths a hundred or more times. In my own case, I messed up big time with “La Maquina Del Tiempo” (Time Machine), because I didn’t think about the audience. Chico, I was in musical lala land, totally enchanted by the music and the charts, in fact I was so into it that I forgot about the audience. I still have mixed emotions about it, because even though everyone always compliments me on the album (including my production and mixing), in addition to the wonderful job that the musicians did, I know that I could have done more to widen its appeal. In fact I met this week with Tony Moreno and Juan Hidalgo of MP/JN about fixing UP that album.
CAP: You once said to me that no one could dance to Cortijo’s “Time Machine” because it was too fast. So then isn’t that an equally important element, if not the main element in latin jazz, the not-so-secret ingredient that made the latin jazz of the sixties so popular?
HA: True, it appears to be a very important element, but I’m not so sure that it’s the main element. Take a great artist like Dave Valentin for example, he probably won’t appeal to a strictly dance crowd. You see, if Dave is constructing his music specifically for a concert jazz audience, remember he is first and foremost a great flautist and primarily a jazz artist. As such I think he would tend to downplay the danceability part of it. The latin undercurrent is there, because no latino ever forsakes his or her roots completely, but it doesn’t play a dominant role. Straight ahead “salsa” artists on the other hand use a minimal amount of jazz elements on top (mainly in the harmonies and phrasing) but keep the basic clave foundation intact. With “Watermelon Man”, “Soul Sauce”, “Cuban Nightmare”, “Mambo Inn”, “Manteca”, “El Mundo De Las Locas”, etc. you had a more even kind of mix. Mongo, Cal, Machito, Mario, Dizzy and both Titos were geniuses at perfectly blending the two worlds, so their music was more of a fifty-fifty proposition. And while I still think fondly of the Sabu album, it’s been so long since I’ve actually heard it that, well who knows, maybe I might not even include it among my favorites today. So much has transpired since then, decades of jazz tinged music has been recorded, plus I’ve grown musically as well. I’d like to listen to it again and re-evaluate it. Hey, Bobby Marin or somebody out there, please send me a copy (laughter).

CAP: While we are on the subject of geniuses Harvey, mustn’t leave out those two bulwarks of the musical score sheet, Mr. Rene Hernandez and Mr. Arturo “Chico” O’Farrill.
HA: No way would I leave them out. They were both giants in their own right. Even though I never had the opportunity to work with Chico O’Farrill I loved the work he did with other artists. Unfortunately, he did not live in New York at that time, although I’m sure that his genius would have eventually wound up on the Coco label, in one way or another, had not the label gone under. I did however, have an ongoing artistic andpersonal relationship with Rene Hernandez. I bumped into him while he was living in Puerto Rico, right after his television gig in San Juan with Tito Rodriguez had ended. Both Eddie and I instinctively knew that Rene was the man we needed for our next project together. I must tell you, watching Rene Hernandez and Eddie Palmieri collaborate on an arrangement was really something to behold. It was an honor for me to be present in the same room [and] working with these guys. They would play off each others ideas, [and] it was more than just a give and take situation. It was like an exquisite meeting of the minds. Rene was a master arranger, quite experienced, with a proven track record[,] and a very humble man indeed. He was a keen observer who patiently “listened” to you and understood exactly what you needed. I don’t think any other arranger ever understood Eddie Palmieri the way Rene did, he was amazingly respectful of Eddie’s input. An unorthodox chord here, a few notes added there, a break that was originally not even supposed to happen, and so forth and so on. Often, a particular idea by one of them would spark the other’s imagination, igniting each other’s creativity and before you knew it –voilá!– it was like witnessing music at its inception, in its purest form. The music they created was so magical. Together, they constructed many a masterpiece. I’m very happy that you brought him up Chico. Neither Eddie, Coco nor I have ever completely recovered from the blow of Rene’s demise. The only real big hit that Eddie had after Coco was “El Dia Que Me Quieras” (on Fania), sung by the great Cheo Feliciano. Not surprisingly, that too was a Rene Hernandez arrangement, and one that Eddie had been holding onto for a long time. Rene’s legacy is preserved not only on that classic tango/salsa number, but on many of Coco’s Grammy winning recordings, as well as hundreds of other albums, for posterity.
CAP: Besides “Unfinished Masterpiece”, were there any other incidents that would go down as unsavory or unusual, in your opinion?
HA: There was this one night of negotiation with Ismael Rivera in a bar in La Perla, Puerto Rico. I was preparing to produce Cortijo y Su Combo Original’s “Juntos Otra Vez”. It would be a live concert and album recorded at Roberto Clemente Coliseo in PR. Ismael got mad at me because I wouldn’t give in to his insane money demands and he left me stranded, alone in a part of town that no gringo should ever be in by himself. I looked around and as my heart began to race, I knew I had to think fast. I started playing music on the juke box – Cortijo, Harlow, El Gran Combo, La Lupe, Danny Rivera, Celia Cruz, Eddie Palmieri, Hector Lavoe, Willy, Andy, Pellin, Miranda, etc. – all the people that I had worked with or knew in the past. My knowledge of the music, the lyrics, my bar top conga drumming (breaks and all) and my coro singing probably saved my ass. Buying a few rounds for everyone probably didn’t hurt either (laughter). When Ismael came back a couple of hours later he expected to find a desperate record executive who was ready to give in to his outrageous demands. Instead we all welcomed him to the party! He laughed and said: “Harvey, you sanamambíche”. The negotiations were over right there, without another word being spoken. I thanked him, we shook hands and I handed him the bar tab. Chico, the look on Ismael’s face, I know you can see this picture in your mind’s eye, because you have to know him to appreciate this. His smile turned to a look of amazed disbelief and then as his anger was about to explode, I started laughing and told him that I had already paid it. This is not just another one of your everyday “Salsa Saves A Jew” stories, this is a part of latin music history.
CAP: So then it wasn’t all that bad, right? Fun was surely had by all who knew and loved this music. What happened then? To stifle the growth of such an up and coming label?
HA: Chico, no one knows the real behind the scenes stories like I do. I will simply state here for the record, in my own quotable words that there had to have been a deal cut between my dishonest scheming partner (who was in charge of administration and distribution) and a certain crooked shoe salesman turned 10th Avenue distributer, probably using an east coast manufacturing plant’s back door to rip off Coco at it’s peak moment of success (we had the biggest receivables due for a 4th quarter during the 1977 Christmas season or any 12 week period in our history). There were, for example, altered check alerts from my bank, and bookeeper and accountant discrepancies. I still don’t know how I got caught up in it, I was an idiot to let my artists and myself down. We all got screwed and I blame myself for not seeing the handwriting on the wall and for not looking over my shoulder. Too busy I guess. Just as disco music was putting a stranglehold on “salsa”, Coco Records went belly up – Chapter Eleven. I was just beginning to take off and go full speed ahead with Coco, and it was over in a flash. Puff! What a terrible waste and an unnecessary tragedy. In the final stages of the conspiracy, Audio Fidelity Enterprises bought Coco out of bankruptcy for only $70,000, my ex-partner stayed on with them and ran the label into the ground for the second time. Audio Fidelity owner Danny Pugliese met me once at the Casino in Cannes and informed me that he had been hoodwinked, and that he had no idea that I was the whole show at Coco and that my partner didn’t know which end was up.
CAP: And after that?
HA: I hung in there, doing Euro/Disco productions while living in Paris and Belgium, I even had a few international disco hits as producer and mixer. I worked with Regine and Patrick Hernandez of “Born To Be Alive” fame, etc. But my heart was always in my latin music. My accumulative experience as President and/or General Manager running labels such as Fania, Vaya, UA Latino, Coco, Graffitti, Gala and Prism gave me an edge that most producers or executives today can’t comprehend. In my way of thinking the music is always first and foremost. If you worry about the music, it will automatically take care of everyone and everything, includingthe bottom line (as long as the money people are honest). As producers, we take credit when the record is a hit, but should also take full responsibility when it flops.
CAP: Who were some of your contemporaries in the business, those whom you viewed as “real” producers, who cared about the music and the bottom line, groundbreakers whom you admired or liked their work? Your favorites, if you will.
HA: Before I answer let me just say this, a real producer should never think about the bottom line, because it’s not really ours. We should only think about the music, and making hit records that will ultimately create dollars, never forgetting for a moment that it’s the fans that we are trying to seduce with our humble efforts. I don’t equate the two. Do you?
CAP: No, but that doesn’t mean that I like to throw away my money, just for the sake of art. It is after all, a business.
HA: Chico you are so right. Ultimately, it has to be about the bottom line, but it’s not the main reason that we go into the music business. We do it to produce music that the public loves, and they in turn show us some love by buying our records. This is our life’s work and the way we reap the rewards. Everything takes care of itself if you sell product, a producer doesn’t worry about the bottom line anymore than Joe Torre worried about the Yankees’ bottom line. Ball players worry about banging out homers, striking out the other players and winning games. We producers worry about producing hit records and that ultimately benefits everyone involved. Let Universal, Sony, BMG, EMI, Warners, etc. worry about the bottom line, it’s never been talent’s problem. We just want to do great music and get paid well for our work. Yeah, that’s the ticket, to make some money, and of course keep the music real. If I may Chico, I’d like to describe to you and your readers what ecstacy is to Harvey Averne. It’s turning on the radio, flipping the dial to three or four stations to find that they are all playing the same song, my song. My friend, that’s even better than sex.
CAP: I can really relate to that Harvey, except maybe about the sex part (laughter). But all kidding aside, who are your favorite producers?
HA: There were some producers who really took chances and tried to do something different. My list includes Sergio George, Ramon Sanchez, Al Santiago, George Goldner, Willie Colón, Barry Rogers, Don Costa, David Foster, Quincy Jones, Manuel Alejandro, Gilberto Santa Rosa, Joe Cuba, Larry Harlow, Marco Antonio Solis, Rudy Perez, Gustavo Santaolalla, Cuto Soto, Isidro Infante and of course Ray Barretto. There are many producers who do very good work that are not on this list, but I have only listed the ones who I believe tried to bring the music to the next level. If I have forgotten anyone (and I’m sure that I did) I apologize in advance. It’s hard, uncertain and even scary work to break new ground. It’s so easy to fail and even if it’s good, what will the media think about this new music? Will the public like it? What about the “don’t change a note for me, not if you care for me, stay, funny valentine, stay” crowd? Scary stuff Chico, it’s way easier to stick with tried and proven formulas. Here’s something else. You can’t worry about false deadlines – deadlines killed more productions than Al Qaeda killed people. It takes nine months to have a baby and believe me my babies are my productions. Even if you are in a hurry you can’t rush it, the baby comes out when its ready and not a moment before. The illusive pursuit of perfection is maddening. I’m sure that’s what drove Ray and it’s what drives me as well. My early work as freelance producer helped shape the way I listen to a production and how I view the business end of it. Even more important to my development was my early experience as a working musician, dating back to those first summer resort gigs. I think I see the business from every perspective and it all seems so simple. It goes something like this; until an artist makes the cash register ring, they are not important to the business. The suits can live without you, they will give you such a hard time, they won’t even return your calls. Then, when you become a star (God willing) and are creating sales and dollars, it’s your turn. It’s payback time and now you have the leverage to get even. It’s just like in the real world, only now it’s probably you who won’t return the calls. Most successful producers and artists understand exactly what I mean. I hate that about the business, but that’s the way it is.
CAP: Where does Coco stand today? I mean the catalogue that is. Certainly you’ve been out of the Coco picture since the late seventies, and the material which has been reissued just doesn’t seem to meet the standards of the original releases.
HA: Chico, your observations are on the mark. Coco was bought from AFE by Tony Moreno of MP Records in 1989, and a lot of changes were made. Tony is one of my dearest friends, and knows better than anyone the amazing care that I put into every one of my productions. When I mentioned to him that some things did not sound like the final approved masters and mixes, he told me that some album covers and masters were not necessarily the final takes and that this was what AFE ultimately delivered to him. I guess Tony did the best he could with what he received, hence the different sound and covers on some of the recordings. I feel the changes that were ultimately made distorted the historical significance of these recordings, thereby altering a musical legacy which should have never been tampered with in the first place.
CAP: Any regrets?
HA: My only regret is that I didn’t stay and fight back when things got bad. I’m not bitter, but it did get ugly and I was so angry and heartbroken that all this historic material had been screwed around with from company to company. Most of what we’ve been talking about here, my work as producer for Coco, was done in a mere five year period between 1972-1977. I was getting so much better and learning with every production. Aside from Coco, another album that deserves special mention is “Naci Para Cantar” by Lalo Rodriguez, which I produced for the EMI Latino label. It went platinum – in case you didn’t know. This was done at the height of the “salsa sensual” period, when no other type of salsa was selling. My concept was as follows, and my instructions to Ramon Sanchez and the other arrangers before charts were written – was that Lalo, like myself, were graduates of the Eddie Palmieri School of Music. I wanted hard driving dance music – “salsa dura” that would not compromise who Lalo was in any way. The results I needed had to highlight extremely melodic sweet horn fills in all the right places, melodic vocals, inspiraciones and coros, all floating like an umbrella of sweetness above the uncompromising killer rhythms that Lalo was known for. Thus, giving the illusion and feeling of being in the “salsa sensual” mode, but in reality without holding back on the swing. Lalo’s voice was good, but not in top form for this album. In spite of this, it remains for me some of my best work and certainly some of my best mixes.
CAP: That’s it?
HA: No, I got more! I regret not having been on better terms with Ralph Mercado in the end. Jerry Massucci had this vision way back in the late sixties, and no one before him ever had that kind of vision or nerve. There were some great labels before ours, fine producers and artists, but no one else had ever come up with the idea of promoting latin music/salsa on a global scale. Ralphy and I were part of that vision, and we spent a lot of time and energy planning the campaign to spread “Our Latin Thing” around the world. Jerry was more of a doer, and a gambler. This man not only had vision, he had cojones like none other. The solid foundation that Jerry built was the primary reasons for me getting into the record business. We were all together on this, albeit each in our way, contributing our own particular expertise to the “salsa” recipe. Our musical differences of opinion were many, we disagreed on moral grounds and we differed in our business practices as well, but in the end we respected what the other had contributed to the campaign, whether individually or in unison. Deep down inside, I think we knew it was going to be more exciting and fun on the way up, maybe it always is. If you put aside the millions, the Grammy’s and all the awards and the sold-out concerts, if you put aside the egos and all the trimmings of fame and fortune, the bottom line is that the three of us were major fans of the music. We each loved this music, and it gave us all so much. For each of us latin music was numero uno, the thing we lived for. The day it became “the business of music” and more than just about the music, that’s the day the fun began to die. Now that Jerry and Ralph are both gone – and they will never be replaced – of this I am sure. I know that whenever I am asked a question in regards to the beginning of the “golden era of salsa”, the kind of question that only the three of us could answer, these two giants will be in my mind and in my heart. Chico, that was the best time of my life and no matter what I’ll always be glad that I was around to enjoy it. Also, I feel blessed to have been a part of Eddie Palmieri’s success as well. It wasn’t all negative you see. He was a great inspiration to me, I loved hanging out with the man and I learned so much about latin music from him.
CAP: Kinda reminds me of that old Bob Hope song….”thanks for the memories”. You’re not going to cry are you?
HA: No, Chico I’m not. But I do want to thank them all for the memories. More than fifty years worth of great memories my man. And I can’t wait to see what the next fifty is like.
CAP: Memories notwithstanding, what does the future hold for Harvey Averne?
HA: Well, I can’t foresee the future, but at present I have a great desire to combat the problems of the record business the way I always have, with commercial concepts and musical solutions. I like all the popular music of today, but my heart’s desire would be for Tony and Juan to bring me in to work on restoring the original Coco catalogue. I believe that if they were reissued again on Coco (distributed of course by MP/J&N Sony), restoring, preserving the original mixes and keeping the original covers intact, these masterpieces would sell all over again. That would make me, along with thousands of salsa music lovers and latin music historians very happy. I bet Juan and Tony would even be ecstatic about that (Harvey smiles). Coco aside, I would welcome the opportunity to work with the right company and explore some of my new ideas and concepts. The Harvey Averne of today wants to produce great hits with exciting new artists and make albums that no music lover can live without. Just like I always did. Anyway, no matter what the future holds for me Chico, looking back at all this with you, I sure had one helluva ride.
CAP: Well, Harvey, you know what they say, it ain’t over until the bearded guy sings…or something like that… (laughter)

Arvito: The Harvey Averne Story – Preamble
Featured
When Havana Entered the Room: Thirty Years of Buena Vista Social Club
On March 26, 1996, inside the wood-panelled EGREM/Areito studios in Centro Habana, a group of musicians gathered without knowing they were about to make one of the most consequential recordings in modern Cuban music. The repertoire reached deep into son, bolero, danzón and canción, and behind every note stood decades of experience.
Cuban bandleader Juan de Marcos González, American guitarist and producer Ry Cooder, and British producer and World Circuit co-founder Nick Gold brought together veterans including Ibrahim Ferrer, Eliades Ochoa, Compay Segundo, Rubén González and Omara Portuondo. Over seven extraordinary days, they recorded Buena Vista Social Club, an album whose intimacy would eventually travel around the world.
Thirty years later, the record has sold more than eight million copies, inspired Wim Wenders’ Oscar-nominated documentary, returned Cuban masters to international prominence and found new life on Broadway. Now World Circuit Records marks the anniversary with a “Pearl Sunrise” double-LP edition that brings the story back to where it began: musicians sharing a room.

The Magic of EGREM Studios and the Havana Sessions
The Buena Vista story has always carried the aura of chance. Gold’s original Havana project envisioned a collaboration between Cuban and West African musicians. When the African participants were unable to make the journey, attention shifted toward the extraordinary musicians already available in Cuba.
What followed was not so much the “discovery” of unknown artists as the international reintroduction of musicians with deep histories of their own. Compay Segundo had spent decades within the son tradition. Rubén González was one of Cuba’s most distinctive pianists. Omara Portuondo was already a major singer. Eliades Ochoa brought the rural pulse of eastern Cuba, while Ibrahim Ferrer emerged as one of the project’s defining voices.
The EGREM room became part of the album’s character. Large, resonant and wood-panelled, it allowed the ensemble to record largely as a live unit, preserving the responsive quality of musicians hearing one another and shaping the performance collectively. World Circuit credits that environment with playing a major role in the final recordings’ singular sound.
That atmosphere is audible throughout. González’s piano converses with singers and rhythm section; Orlando “Cachaíto” López gives the music its supple bass foundation; Compay Segundo carries both pulse and memory; Ferrer turns a lyric into intimate speech. Cooder’s role was most effective when unobtrusive, helping create conditions in which the musicians’ individual personalities remained central.
The result was neither glossy modernization nor museum reconstruction. It sounded alive because it was allowed to breathe.
From Local Treasure to Global Phenomenon
When Buena Vista Social Club appeared internationally in 1997, few could have predicted the scale of its reception. The album moved far beyond specialist audiences and became a gateway into Cuban music for listeners around the world.
“Chan Chan,” written by Compay Segundo, became its defining invitation. Built on a circular guitar figure and an unhurried groove, the song became both the album’s opening statement and its unofficial anthem—an instantly recognizable portal into the sound of Buena Vista.
The record went on to sell more than eight million copies. At the 40th Annual GRAMMY Awards in 1998, Buena Vista Social Club won Best Tropical Latin Album, confirming that the project had crossed cultural and commercial boundaries without surrendering its identity.
Wim Wenders’ 1999 documentary expanded that impact. By following the musicians in Havana and on international stages, the film gave audiences a visual and human dimension to voices they had come to love. It earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Documentary Feature and helped transform Ferrer, Segundo, González, Portuondo and their colleagues into international cultural figures.
The album also opened the way for a broader World Circuit catalogue of Cuban projects, including major recordings by Ferrer, Portuondo, González and Guajiro Mirabal. Buena Vista became not an endpoint, but a doorway.

From Havana to Broadway
Perhaps the clearest proof of the album’s longevity is its remarkable 21st-century theatrical life.
Buena Vista Social Club opened at Broadway’s Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre on March 19, 2025, reshaping the album’s cultural memory into a dramatic work inspired by the musicians and the history surrounding their music. Its song score is sung entirely in Spanish, while the dramatic scenes are performed in English—a format World Circuit describes as a Broadway first.
At the 2025 Tony Awards, the production earned four competitive wins: Natalie Venetia Belcon for Featured Actress in a Musical, Jonathan Deans for Sound Design, Patricia Delgado and Justin Peck for Choreography, and Marco Paguia for Orchestrations. The musicians in the show’s band also received a Special Tony Award, giving the production five Tony honours in total.
In February 2026, the Original Broadway Cast Recording won the GRAMMY Award for Best Musical Theatre Album. Music first captured in Havana three decades earlier had not merely survived; it had found a new dramatic language and another award-winning recorded life.
That momentum continues with the 2026–27 U.S. national tour, which began in Buffalo on September 12, 2026, before moving through cities across the United States. The Buena Vista story has become a living cultural work, continually rediscovered by new audiences.
The 30th Anniversary “Pearl Sunrise” Edition
World Circuit’s Buena Vista Social Club: 30th Anniversary Edition, released September 4, 2026, turns attention back to the original record.
Pressed on “Pearl Sunrise” colored double vinyl, the set uses the 2021 remaster and arrives in a gatefold sleeve with a 20-page collectible booklet. It is the third title in World Circuit Records’ 40th Anniversary reissue series.
The edition wisely avoids trying to reinvent the album. The 2021 remaster preserves the qualities that have always defined Buena Vista Social Club: natural room ambience, detailed acoustic instruments, warm voices and the uncanny sensation that the listener is sitting near the ensemble rather than hearing music assembled behind studio glass.
For collectors, the most significant addition is Side D, which gathers five rare bonus recordings:
- “Vicenta”
- “La Pluma”
- “A Tus Pies”
- “La Cleptómana”
- “Orgullecida (Alternate Trio Take)”
These tracks deepen the historical experience of the sessions rather than distracting from it. They offer further glimpses of repertoire and chemistry, suggesting just how much musical possibility surrounded those seven days at EGREM.
The pearl-colored vinyl gives the edition a commemorative identity, while the gatefold presentation and booklet transform it into both an archival object and a listening experience. For listeners who already own the album, the attraction is not simply another pressing, but a physical edition designed to mark the distance the music has travelled.

World Circuit at 40
The reissue also arrives during World Circuit Records’ 40th anniversary, placing Buena Vista Social Club within a broader story of cultural exchange.
Under Nick Gold’s direction, the label has spent four decades connecting international audiences with music from Cuba, West Africa and beyond. Its catalogue includes landmark work by Ali Farka Touré, Oumou Sangaré, Toumani Diabaté, Orchestra Baobab and Fatoumata Diawara, as well as recordings involving Tony Allen, Hugh Masekela and numerous Cuban artists.
World Circuit’s strongest releases have always trusted specificity: distinctive artists, careful production and the belief that audiences will respond to music on its own terms.
Buena Vista Social Club remains the clearest example of that philosophy.
Thirty Years Later
Thirty years can turn almost any landmark album into a monument. Buena Vista Social Club has resisted that fate because it still feels less like history than presence.
“Chan Chan,” “Dos Gardenias,” “El Cuarto de Tula,” “Candela” and the title track retain the warmth, humour, longing and spontaneity that allowed them to travel so widely. The musicians never sound as though they are performing their own legend. They sound like people making music together.
That may be the album’s deepest achievement. It restored global attention to remarkable Cuban artists, but it did so through performances that never required historical explanation to communicate.
The Broadway production has carried those songs to another generation. The national tour is extending their reach again. And the “Pearl Sunrise” 30th Anniversary Edition now offers listeners another reason to return to the source.
For longtime admirers, it is a beautifully presented way to revisit an essential recording. For collectors, the bonus material and expanded package make it a meaningful edition. For new listeners, it is an invitation to enter the same room that opened in Havana in March 1996.
Drop the needle on “Chan Chan,” and thirty years disappear.
References
World Circuit Records. “Buena Vista Social Club 30th Anniversary Vinyl Edition.” Official press release, 2026. Source for the anniversary edition, original Havana sessions, sales history, musicians, Broadway resurgence, World Circuit history and bonus material.
The Recording Academy. “40th Annual GRAMMY Awards.” GRAMMY.com. Official record of Buena Vista Social Club winning Best Tropical Latin Album at the 1998 GRAMMY Awards. (Grammy)
The Recording Academy. “Best Musical Theater Album — 68th Annual GRAMMY Awards.” GRAMMY.com, 2026. Official record of the Buena Vista Social Club Original Broadway Cast Recording’s GRAMMY win. (Grammy)
Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. “The 72nd Academy Awards — 2000.” Official record of Wim Wenders and Ulrich Felsberg’s Buena Vista Social Club nomination for Documentary Feature. (Oscars)
The American Theatre Wing / The Broadway League. “Buena Vista Social Club.” TonyAwards.com. Official production, nomination and award record for the 2025 Broadway musical. (Tony Awards)
Buena Vista Social Club — The Musical. Official U.S. National Tour schedule, 2026–27. (Buena Vista Musical)
Festival Report
San José Summer Jazz Festival 2026: Three Days of Music in the Bay Area
For three days in August, downtown San José, California, was the epicenter of some great music in the SF Bay Area. We heard bands that put a contemporary spin on music of the last century, from the Latin soul sounds of Joe Bataan to the sophisticated singing of René Marie, and a particular highlight for me was the performance by the one and only Patti LaBelle. This year marked forty years that the Festival has been in existence, and I hope it goes on for at least forty more years. With new director Christian Vela doing an outstanding job of booking, the future of the Festival looks bright.
Friday Night: Soul, Zydeco, and Latin Rhythms
MC for the Main Stage was Greg Bridges, a mainstay in Bay Area radio for many years, currently at KCSM 91.1 on the FM dial. It is always reassuring to hear his voice at the Festival, as I know some enjoyable music will follow. Sure enough, Adi Oasis came out that Friday night and gave a good opening performance. Handling the vocals and the electric bass playing, she impressed the crowd with her musicianship. Oasis brought us back to 1998 with her version of Lauren Hill’s “Doo Wop (That Thing)” mixed in with some slow jams and her own material. Oasis’ music was a nice way to ease into the Festival atmosphere.
On the Blues/BigEasy Stage, local group Zydeco Flames held forth with their southern Louisiana sound. They took some familiar New Orleans favorites like Fats Domino’s “Hello Josephine” and “Iko Iko,” added some washboard and accordion and turned them into Zydeco tunes. One of the most notable songs was an original waltz called “Never Alone.” Then the dancers came out in full force when they broke into Hank Williams’ “Jambalaya.” Rock guitar wafted through B.B. King’s “The Thrill is Gone” and The Staple Singers’ “I’ll Take You There.” Zydeco Flames proved that any tune can be turned into a Zydeco song.
Moving on to the Latin Tropical Stage, 83-year-old Joe Bataan and his band revived the Latin-soul sounds that he pioneered in the ’60s. There were echoes of Doo Wop and classic ’50s R&B along with the conga drum to give the music a Latin twist. Bataan was in good spirits, starting off singing “The Lord’s Prayer” with his wife and then getting into some serious boogaloo. He dedicated one song to the Philipinos and another to the Puerto Ricans, even plunging into some of what could be called “Oldies But Goodies.” The horn players, C.P. Salas (tenor saxophone) and Tony Hernández (trumpet), kept the old-school vibe going. Guitarist Adrian Carmine took a solo turn singing that old chestnut “Daddy’s Home,” and Bataan showed he could croon with the best of them on “I Wish You Love.” The packed crowd reveled in the nostalgia-laden music, proving that Joe Bataan is back!
My friend Jonathan told me about Thee Sinseers several weeks before I caught them at the Festival, and if it is ’60s Rhythm & Blues with a Mexican flair, there is no better band. Led by the vocals of Joey Quiñones, Thee Sinseers lay down a heart-on-your-sleeve, slow jam sound that never lets up. Teasing the audience with the horn riff from Tower of Power’s “You’re Still A Young Man,” they took us back to a time when cars were big, and everyone went to the soda fountain to put quarters in the jukebox. Proud of their East Los Angeles heritage, the group plays a kind of updated version of LA bands from the ’60s like Thee Midnighters. “Little” Willie Garcia, lead vocalist of Thee Midnighters, must be very happy to hear this music seeing a resurgence in popularity.
Saturday: New Voices and Veteran Masters
On to Saturday, where the Monterey Jazz Vocal Ensemble sang with great harmony in the San José Art Museum. Comprised of high school students and recent high school graduates, the Ensemble performed a variety of tunes from all over the map. With 12 singers (7 women and 5 men), they poured out a strong, tight-knit sound. Backed by a quartet of high school-age musicians, the Ensemble sang Chick Corea’s “You’re Everything” and a bossa nova-tinged “Angel Eyes.” It was a most enjoyable way to start the second day of the Festival.
Drummer Mike Clark’s Post Boptet band took the early afternoon slot at the Montgomery Theater, going through an exciting hour of contemporary music. The Post Boptet boasts a superb lineup: Eddie Henderson (trumpet), Craig Handy (tenor saxophone), Essiet Okon Essiet (acoustic bass) and David Kikoski (piano). They began with a very appropriate tune, “East Broadway Rundown” by the recently departed Sonny Rollins. After a wonderful ballad featuring Henderson, they played a jazz/funk hybrid called “Loft Funk,” where Clark got to display his formidable chops on drums. Then in a kind of tribute to Herbie Hancock, the band dug into his composition “Toys.” Three of the members of the band were employed by Hancock at various points in his career: Henderson during the Mwandishi period, Clark during the Head Hunters time and Handy on the road with Herbie. All three musicians have ties to the SF Bay Area: Henderson played music and practiced psychiatry in the Bay for many years, Handy is the son of John Handy, born in Oakland, and Clark was born in Sacramento. New York-based pianist Kikoski has played with a wide range of jazz musicians, so it was a treat to finally see him live. With his white hair flying in all directions, Kikoski was in constant motion, swaying to the music, seemingly possessed. Clark’s new album, Kuan Ganjo (Time Without Beginning), has the same cast minus Kikoski and adds Patrice Rushen. It is definitely worth a listen or two or three.
Back at the Main Stage, Parlor Greens were into their set, a groove-oriented Hammond B3, electric guitar and drum sound harkening back to the ’50s and ’60s soul/jazz records. The guitarist Jimmy James laid down tantalizing chords and single-line notes while Tim Carman supplied the heavy backbeat. The organist was a fill-in for Adam Scone and did a very nice job during their set. An interesting thing happened during Parlor Greens’ set: James said they were going to play a Dolly Parton song and the audience had to guess which one. Well, this is a hip crowd, and they came up with “Jolene” right away. Again, it was reassuring to find out that the organ trio concept is still alive and being taken a step forward with Parlor Greens.
One of the great things about the Festival is finding new acts that are surprisingly good. Such was the case with the Nicole Zuraitis Quartet, an original singer/pianist/songwriter, whose self-deprecating manner and voice charmed the crowd. Starting with her own compositions, Zuraitis sang and played piano with wondrous dexterity. The band, husband Dan Pugach (drums), Sam Weber (acoustic bass) and Idan Morin (electric guitar), supported Zuraitis with steady assurance. After singing her own tunes, Zuraitis then broke into a series of covers: “Jolene” (hearing it a second time in the space of an hour), “The Nearness of You,” “Wichita Lineman” and “I Get Along Without You Very Well,” all done with taste and feeling.
Roger Glenn, preeminent musician extraordinaire, plays 18 different instruments and presented his group that Saturday afternoon to a very enthusiastic audience at the Signia Regent Stage. Taking most of the material from his 2025 album My Latin Heart (produced by special guest Ray Obiedo), the group navigated seven tunes, enjoying every moment. Switching between vibes, flute, alto saxophone and percussion, Glenn made the most of his countless abilities. Obiedo contributed his composition “Child’s Dance” and his inimitable stinging electric guitar. Glenn noted early on that he and Obiedo have been playing music together for 55 years, quite a long and fruitful association. Longtime band members, Marcos Silva on electric piano, Robb Fisher on acoustic bass, Michelle Gerlitz on congas and percussion and newcomer Kelly Fasman on drums played with supreme cohesion. Late in the set, Gerlitz and Glenn picked up chekeres and held the audience spellbound for a while. Glenn and company left a prodigious amount of excellent music in our ears that afternoon.
Saturday Evening: Afro-Cuban Fire and Patti LaBelle
The Main Stage hosted the always enjoyable Afro-Cuban All Stars led by Juan De Marcos González. The talent level in Cuba is so deep that I didn’t recognize any of the current band members. It might be that the original group had some of the older established artists, and many have passed away or are unable to travel. Be that as it may, the All Stars were in fine form that evening, showcasing a singer with a declarative style. As De Marcos González stayed in the background playing the güiro, the band executed intricately arranged passages. Horns and percussion were tightly knit together in a delicate balance.
A short walk to the Latin Tropical stage where Orquesta Akokán began their re-creation of classic Cuban music from the ’40s and ’50s. Focusing on the Mambo, Orquesta Akokán brought back that familiar sound from the past. Pianist and arranger Michael Eckroth dove deep into the genre, respecting the past and adding his own ideas to create a modern take. The music was enhanced by the vocals of Kiko Ruiz, who handled the crowd, exuding natural charisma. The electric tres guitar combined with the soaring horns made the set quite enjoyable. Akokán means from the heart in Yoruba, and the group proved that they had plenty of it on that sultry night in San José.
Wedged in between Orquesta Akokán and headliner Patti LaBelle, Jubu Smith soulfully sang and played guitar. Born and raised in Oakland, California, Jubu borrows liberally from gospel, soul, blues and funk to display his singular electric guitar playing. Last year he was seen at the Summer Festival backing up Lilah Hathaway; this year headlining the Blues/Big Easy Stage. Hammond B3 organ (Mike Halberg), electric bass, and drums backed Jubu’s compelling vocals and superior guitar work. B.B. King’s immortal “The Thrill Is Gone” was a perfect vehicle for Jubu’s mastery. Nodding our heads, the crowd acknowledged Tony! Toni! Toné!’s song “Anniversary,” which the normally reserved Jubu said he helped the group record. After a long time spent backing other artists, Jubu finally struts his stuff and leads his own group.
The ageless Patti LaBelle sang her way into our hearts with fire and consummate expertise. At 82 years young, LaBelle showed absolutely no signs of slowing down. All the high and low notes were there; a stellar performer, having the time of her life. Her longtime pianist/musical director, Sam Lewis, made all the musical transitions smooth and seamless. One of her backup singers took center stage for the Staple Singers’ “I’ll Take You There” while LaBelle was busy changing her wig and clothing. LaBelle returned to the stage and continued to entrance all the folks, from the front of the stage to those seated in the back in their lawn chairs.
Sunday: Ska, Miles Davis, and René Marie
The first act on Sunday, hitting the Main Stage at precisely 1 p.m., the Western Standard Ska Orchestra took us back to Jamaica in the ’50s, when Ska music was at its peak. Trumpeter Eitan Avineri directed the band, some twenty instruments including a full horn section; trumpets and saxophones filled the stage along with guitar, acoustic bass and drums. Invoking the sounds of yesteryear and using the template of the Skatalites (The group who invented ska), the Orchestra blasted out a huge, powerful sound. Using Lee Morgan’s “The Sidewinder,” the Orchestra left no doubt that Ska and Jazz could co-exist in the same song. I found myself bopping up and down to the highly percussive ska rhythm, another unexpected musical treat.
Educator and bassist Marcus Shelby led a nonet which faithfully revisited the Miles Davis session Birth Of The Cool. Highly appropriate choice of material, as this year many artists are celebrating Miles’ centenary. Each selection introduced by Shelby received an informative description, noting the composer and the principal soloist. The nonet, composed of all Bay Area musicians, featured Heidi Tretheren (horn), Remee Ashley (trombone), Mike Olmos (trumpet), Tony Pebbles (alto saxophone), Melecio Magdaluyo (baritone saxophone), Jonathan Seiberlich (tuba), Greg Jacobs (piano), Jamal Ramírez (drums) and Marcus Shelby (acoustic bass). Especially notable contributions came from Olmos, Pebbles and Magdaluyo as they filled the shoes of Miles Davis, Lee Konitz and Gerry Mulligan. The music still sounded quite fresh, even though the record was made almost 80 years ago. “Boplicity,” “Jeru” and “Budo” came to precise and vivid life under Sheiby’s direction. Birth of the Cool was not treated as some museum piece by this group—to be dusted off and only played on special occasions—instead as a vital part of American music history.
I was really looking forward to hearing Lakecia Benjamin, having experienced her wonderful alto saxophone playing. To my surprise, she could not make the gig; instead, the replacement was the marvelous vocalist René Marie. Backed by an exceptional trio—Xavier Davis on piano, Elias Baily on acoustic bass and Quentin E. Baxter on drums—Marie sang a medley of tunes around the theme of imagination; the Temptations’ “Just My Imagination” was the core, with a deviation into John Lennon’s “Imagine.” Marie told a great story associated with her original tune, “Colorado River Song.” Her trip down the river with a man resulted in a wonderful thing: marriage. There was a call-and-response scat singing with the audience, where Marie showed off her considerable scat singing abilities. Marie captivated the crowd with her warm and inviting songs, a pleasant surprise for everyone.
The Women Who Lit Up the Festival
Sure, there were some cool moments in the Festival: Joe Bataan crooning, Afro-Cuban All Stars dealing, Jubu Smith playing guitar, even the Western Standard Time Ska Orchestra skanking, but the soul of the summer Jazz Fest belonged to the women, who played and sang their hearts out.
The Festival this year was worth attending due in no small part to the powerful women who graced all of the stages. From Adi Oasis to Nicole Zuraitis, on to Patti LaBelle and ending with the incomparable René Marie, women and their considerable gifts made the Festival exceedingly bright.
Artists Performing at the San José Summer Jazz Fest 2026
Photo Gallery by Brooks Geiken (click to enlarge)
Featured
Miguel de Armas on the Future of Latin Jazz and the Ottawa Latin Jazz Conference 2026
The Ottawa Latin Jazz Conference 2026 returns for its third edition from September 25 to 27, bringing together musicians, educators, students, and audiences to celebrate the growing presence of Latin jazz in Canada. At the center of the conference is Cuban pianist, composer, and musical director Miguel de Armas, whose journey from Cuba to Canada has shaped both his artistic career and his vision for creating a stronger Latin jazz community in Ottawa.
The story of the Ottawa Latin Jazz Conference (OLJC) is, in many ways, a story of growth, discovery, and community. From its first edition in 2024 to the second in 2025, the conference has steadily expanded its reach while remaining committed to its original purpose: creating a space in Ottawa where Latin jazz can be heard, discussed, studied, and experienced as part of Canada’s multicultural musical landscape.
Those first two editions also made something increasingly clear: there is a growing audience and a growing community for Latin jazz in Ottawa. The conference has become more than a series of performances. It is developing into a platform for cultural exchange, artistic discovery, education, and collaboration among musicians from different backgrounds and generations.
Miguel de Armas has played a central role in that evolution. His own journey has profoundly influenced the way he approaches the conference. His perspective is rooted not only in his experience as a musician, but also in his desire to recognize and showcase the talent that already exists within Canada’s diverse communities.
That was one of the central themes of our conversation as we looked ahead to the 2026 edition: how can the conference continue to grow while remaining open to new voices, new ideas, and the next generation of Latin jazz musicians?
That question brought us back to the beginning. Looking at the first two editions, I asked Miguel how he felt the conference had evolved and what lessons had helped shape this year’s edition.

Miguel de Armas: From Cuba to Canada
To understand the conference, it is also important to understand Miguel.
Trained musically in Cuba, de Armas developed a career connected to some of the most important experiences in Cuban popular music and contemporary jazz. He was a founding member of N.G. La Banda, one of the defining groups of the Cuban timba movement, and throughout his career in Cuba he worked and recorded with numerous artists and projects, building extensive professional and international experience.
Since moving to Canada, Miguel has continued to develop his career as a pianist, composer, arranger, and musical director. In Ottawa, he created the Miguel de Armas Quartet and later founded the Ottawa Latin Jazz Orchestra, a project that brings together members of the Cuban diaspora with musicians born or trained in Canada.
The orchestra combines original compositions, traditional Cuban melodies, jazz improvisation, and Afro-Cuban rhythms.
But perhaps one of Miguel’s most interesting qualities is not simply his work as a musician. It is the way he observes the musical community around him.
He explained this to me during our conversation. For Miguel, organizing a conference like this means constantly looking, listening, and discovering.
“I have the time to go out there and discover each artist. That’s what we always do.”
That sentence says a great deal about his philosophy. Miguel does not seem to view programming simply as a list of established names. Instead, he sees it as a process of discovery.
A Conference That Learns From Itself
When I asked him how the Ottawa Latin Jazz Conference had evolved through its first two editions and what lessons had helped shape the 2026 edition, his answer was very clear: the conference has to continually learn from itself.
After each edition, the team talks with artists, collaborators, and participants to hear their impressions, identify problems, and find ways to improve.
“Every time an edition ends, we sit down with the people who have been part of it and ask how the conference was, what we can improve, and what we can do differently.”
I found this particularly important because it explains one of the characteristics that distinguishes the project. The goal is not to repeat the same model every year.
“Every year we have to keep building on it and make it better.”
That self-critical attitude is also present when Miguel talks about the conference’s long-term vision. For him, the success of an edition is not measured only by audience numbers or by the names appearing on the program. After every conference, the team needs to listen to the audience, evaluate the response, and determine what can be improved.
“We will get together, draw our conclusions, see how the audience responded, look at the reactions, and then try to improve the next edition.”
In other words, the conference is conceived as an evolving process.
Canada’s Multicultural Talent Takes Center Stage
The third edition introduces another particularly significant emphasis: celebrating the extraordinary talent of Canada’s multicultural diaspora and its growing influence on the evolution of Latin jazz.
For Miguel, this direction did not emerge from an abstract concept. It came from something he has been observing personally in the Canadian music scene.
Over the past few years, he has been listening to musicians, attending concerts, following projects, and discovering artists who may not yet have the visibility they deserve.
“There is so much talent. And that is also what the conference is about: highlighting the cultural talent we have here in Canada.”
That “we” is important. For Miguel, Canadian Latin jazz should not be understood simply as music imported from Latin America. It is also music being transformed by the communities and artists who live and work in Canada.
And this brings us to one of the major themes of the 2026 conference: belonging.
Miguel believes that when Canadian audiences begin regularly hearing these artists, something changes. The Latin American musician is no longer perceived as an outsider and begins to become part of Canada’s cultural landscape.
As he told me:
“They begin to feel that they are artists who also belong here… and then they feel proud.”
For Miguel, that phenomenon is fundamental. He points to Hilario Durán as an example of another Cuban musician who has developed an extraordinary career in Canada.
“Hilario is Cuban, but he is also a Canadian musician.”
That sentence summarizes much of the philosophy behind the conference: it is not about choosing one identity over another, but recognizing the identities that coexist and enrich one another.
Discovering Artists Before They Become Well Known
One of the things I found most interesting in our conversation was learning how Miguel puts together the conference program.
His method is quite simple: listen.
He told me, for example, that he discovered Joy Lapps at Sunfest. He heard her perform live, watched her connect with the audience, and immediately became interested in her project.
“As an audience member, I watched her show and saw how she interacted with the audience.”
And that was where the invitation began.
With pianist Orlando Cardoso, the process was different. Miguel did not know him personally, but he did what he calls “the homework”: he followed his career, listened to his music, and became particularly interested in his recent work.
“This young man is serious, and he has a different proposal.”
That search for new voices explains the diversity of the 2026 program, which brings together artists from different backgrounds and generations.
Miguel also emphasizes the importance of balancing established figures with emerging artists.
“We have to go looking for the generations that are coming, because they bring their own language, their own way of doing things, and their own artistic vision.”
That balance appears to be one of the conference’s fundamental principles.

Hilario Durán: Memory, Experience, and Passing It On
The participation of Hilario Durán occupies a special place in the third edition.
For Miguel, this is not simply a matter of inviting an internationally recognized musician. There is a personal relationship that goes back to Cuba and, above all, an admiration that began many years ago.
When we talked about Hilario, Miguel remembered how young Cuban musicians of his generation followed his work and tried to learn his solos.
“Hilario was the reference point. We all wanted to learn his solos.”
But Miguel also emphasizes something he considers essential: Durán’s extraordinary preparation as a pianist, composer, and orchestrator.
He remembers Durán’s classical training, his work with Cuba’s Orquesta de Música Moderna, and his experience performing with musicians of the highest caliber, including Arturo Sandoval. All of that experience, he says, allowed Durán to arrive in Canada with an exceptionally strong professional foundation.
“He arrived with all the tools he needed to build a successful career here.”
In this third edition, Durán will not only perform. His participation will also have an educational dimension, particularly important for young musicians and students.
For Miguel, that generosity as a teacher is one of Durán’s greatest qualities.
“He is extremely generous when it comes to teaching.”
Durán’s presence therefore represents a connection between generations: a musician who was a reference point for a generation of young Cuban musicians, and an artist who has now become a reference point for a new generation of musicians in Canada.
Learning the Language of Latin Jazz
The educational dimension of the conference is another one of its pillars.
This year there is a special emphasis on Afro-Cuban rhythmic traditions and on strengthening the teaching of Latin jazz in Canada. For Miguel, this education is necessary because Latin jazz cannot simply be reduced to a label.
“It has its own language, its own way of feeling and organizing rhythm.”
He explained that even Canadian musicians with strong jazz backgrounds can initially find themselves challenged when they have to play certain Afro-Cuban rhythms.
“At first they are a little intimidated, but as time goes by, they become more flexible.”
The key, according to Miguel, is direct experience.
It is not enough to hear an explanation about these rhythms. Musicians need to play them, experience them, and interact with musicians who understand them from within.
“It is one thing to hear someone explain it. It is another thing to become involved in the project. That is when things change.”
This idea of immersion connects directly with the educational mission of the conference. The goal is not simply to talk about Latin jazz, but to create opportunities to experience it.
Inclusion as a Way of Building Community
Another concept that appears repeatedly throughout our conversation is inclusion.
The conference seeks to present established artists while also creating opportunities for emerging musicians and lesser-known projects.
“The conference has always been about inclusion, about bringing in young talent and international artists.”
Miguel believes that one generation cannot simply reproduce itself. More experienced musicians have a responsibility to seek out those who are coming next.
And this has a much broader cultural dimension.
As Canadian audiences discover these sounds and artists, a sense of belonging develops. Latin jazz begins to be recognized not as a peripheral expression, but as part of the country’s cultural landscape.
In this sense, the conference serves a purpose that goes beyond the stage: it helps build community, develop audiences, create opportunities, and establish relationships.
The National Arts Centre as a Partner
The relationship with the National Arts Centre has also been fundamental to the conference’s growth.
The first and second editions presented a well-organized project, a three-day program featuring concerts, panels, workshops, and networking opportunities.
The third edition continues that relationship, once again making the National Arts Centre a central venue for the conference.
For Miguel, this relationship represents much more than having access to a prestigious stage.
He remembers his early experiences at the NAC and the process of building an audience through consistent work.
“Working hard to build your own audience, to make people believe in you, and being truthful and sincere about what you represent is very important.”
Over time, that work creates trust.
“Now, when we present something, they say, ‘This is going to have quality.’”
That “seal of quality,” as Miguel describes it, is one of the important consequences of building a strong relationship with an institution like the National Arts Centre.
It also contributes to giving Latin jazz greater visibility and recognition within Canada’s cultural landscape.
Looking Ahead
At the end of our conversation, I asked Miguel where he sees the Ottawa Latin Jazz Conference five years from now.
His answer was once again consistent with everything he had said throughout our conversation.
He did not talk about turning the conference into a personal project or imposing a permanent formula. He talked about evolution and continuity.
“Evolving, obviously.”
And then he added something that I found particularly revealing:
“There is no exclusivity here. There is inclusivity.”
Perhaps that is the best way to summarize the spirit of the conference, and especially of this third edition.
The Ottawa Latin Jazz Conference was created to open a space for Latin jazz in Ottawa. And that space includes different generations, cultures, musical languages, and immigrant experiences.
“Since the beginning, the conference has been looking at the talent that already exists in Canada and recognizing that much of the future of Latin jazz is being built right here.”
Miguel de Armas knows this because he is seeing it firsthand. He hears it on stages, discovers it at concerts, talks to musicians, and follows their projects. Above all, he understands that a musical scene can only grow if there is a willingness to listen to those who are coming next.
The third edition of the Ottawa Latin Jazz Conference is not intended to close a chapter. On the contrary, it is designed as another chapter in a story that is still being written.
And, true to Miguel’s spirit, once the conference is over, the work will begin again: listening, asking questions, evaluating, learning, and looking for new ways to make it better.
Because, as Miguel himself told me, the conference must continue to evolve.
And perhaps that is precisely its greatest strength.

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Harvey AVERNE
Jun 1, 2019 at 9:37 pm
I am very pleased to finally have such a nice Wikipedia page at the age of 82. I am not sure who did this for me because I would like to thank them for their accuracy and all the work they put into these pages.