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Our Man From La Habana – Cándido Camero: Uno De Los Nuestros
Por Chico Alvarez Peraza
ciudad de Nueva York, abril 22, 2010
80 AÑOS POR EL SENDERO DEL EXITO
Con esta edición, Latin Jazz Network rinde homenaje a CÁNDIDO CAMERO, percusionista cubano que hoy por hoy celebra sus 80 años de vida artística. Su trayectoria musical lo ha llevado desde su tierra natal a la úrbe nuevayorquina y más allá de la babel de hierro.
El percusionista ha viajado por todo el continente Latinoamericano, pasando tambien por las capitales de Europa. Cándido, personalmente me relató que hasta en el archipiélago del Japón sonaron los parches (cueros) de su adorado tambor.
Mi trabajo aquí es modesto, mi intención es de enriquecer el entusiasmo y el conocimiento de nuestros lectores con todo el cariño que se merece éste baluarte. Lo considero como un amigo, y como buen amigo que soy, les contaré no solo de sus grandes exitos, sino de su caballerosidad como persona.
Comienzo mi reportaje expresando que la imágen de Cándido me llamó la atención por primera vez hace más de cuarenta años. Lo ví ilustrado en las carátulas de algunos discos suyos que encontré en un “record shop” situado en la calle Rivington en el bajo Manhattan. Me refiero a los discos “Long Play”, reliquias de una epoca más sencilla, y, si no me falla la memoria el primer disco que tomé en mis manos fue “Candido The Volcanic”. Luego encontré “Candido In Indigo” y al ladito de éste estaba colocado “Candido’s Comparsa”.
Recuerdo que compré los tres elepés el mismo día y en su total me costaron unos nueve dólares. Eso sería como por el año 1965, cuando empecé a coleccionar discos de jazz. Anterior a esta compra solo tenía en mi colección algunos discos sencillos de 45 rpm, que en su mayoría eran del género de rokanról y por supuesto varios elepés de música “latina” y de “soul”.
Sin saber, me embarcaba yo en un viaje musical que me llevaría hasta lo más profundo de la experiencia cultural americana; hasta la propia raíz.
RAICES HABANERAS: COMO EMPEZÓ LA COSA
En cuanto a música bailable se trata, creo que no seré el primer autor en decir que Cuba le ha regalado al mundo una fortuna; ni tampoco el primero en hablarles del aporte cultural de los músicos cubanos a esta gran ciudad (Nueva York).
Solamente hay que dar un repaso al tiempo para recordar que fue precisamente aquí donde arribaron los primeros ritmos netamentes cubanos. Estos llegaron a comienzos del siglo veinte, en barcos de vapor, con instrumentos autóctonos y melodias enroscadas en las gargantas de varios soneros y músicos de color.
Recordemos que ya para el 1920 la ley de la prohibición (tambien conocida como el “experimento noble”) había abierto las puertas para el intercambio cultural y comercial entre Cuba y los bebedores estadounidenses. En aquella época surgía el primer “boom” turístico norteamericano y la ironía de este capítulo nos provoca cierta risa, porque la “ley seca” hizo que miles de “refugiados” americanos pasaran sus vacaciones “mojándose” con el famoso ron cubano. Habia que ver como aquellos “turistas de fin de semana” se estremecían al son de una guitarra, acompañada por la botíja, el tres, las claves, las maracas y el bongó.
Después de casi diez años de “prosperidad”, la caída de Wall Street en 1929 produjo una catástrofe americana que afectó tanto a Cuba como a los Estados Unidos. La Gran Depresión económica que se acercaba no podía permitir que los americanos continuaran sus escapadas a la capital cubana para “mojarse”, y, por consiguiente surgió el fenómeno de un éxodo al reves.
Cientos de músicos cubanos tomaron el ejemplo de las orquestas de Don Azpiázu, Alfredo Brito y Manolo Castro, y se trasladaron a Nueva York y a otras ciudades del “norte” (asi es que le llamaban a los Estados Unidos). Precisamente, era allí donde los bailadores de salón esperaban su música cadenciosa con gran ansiedad.
A pesar de que aquella crisis económica no le permitía viajar, el ciudadano americano siempre encontró dinero para festejar, y como el virus cubano ya lo había picado, era solo cuestión de tiempo. Asi fue que empezó la cosa, y en medio de grandes vicisitudes el criollísimo son estaba al explotar.
Con el tremendísimo exito del pregón “El Manicero” en 1930, la música cubana había penetrado en la fibra de la sociedad americana de forma contundente. En Cuba, el joven Cándido veía estos acontecimientos con ansiedad. Mientras tanto, Antonio Machín y otros pioneros impulsaban el son y los demás generos cubanos, penetrando su cadencia musical y su clave en las venas de la colonia hispanoamericana de Nueva York.
De repente, se produjo en la úrbe nuevayorquina una explosión de música cubana, particularmente con el género sonero, que habia llegado con Azpiázu y Machín bajo el seudónimo de “rhumba”. Fue en aquel momento cuando se implantaron sus raices, y se quedó para siempre nuestro son, aunque cambiaría de tímbre y de nombre muy a menudo en el futuro.
En el año 1933 se abolió la ley seca y el mundo siguió su agitado pulso. Durante esa época surgieron en Cuba grandes figuras, cuyos nombres saltaban las fronteras de la isla. En las siguientes decadas se sucedieron ciertas olas de inmigración desde Cuba hacia los Estados Unidos. Entre miles y miles de artistas y músicos cubanos que tomaron el rumbo hacia el norte a mediados de los años cuarenta, estaba nuestro Cándido. Y no fue por casualidad, pues su destino ya se había marcado desde temprana edad.
Nacido en el año 1921, Cándido se habia iniciado en la música desde niño, tamborileando sobre latas vacías de leche condensada en lugar de bongós. A los catorce años ya era todo un profesional. Pasó a tocar el trés, y rapidamente se integró a los famosos sextetos de su barrio, como por ejemplo Los Jóvenes Del Cerro, del cantante Carlos Azcona; Los Jovenes Sociales, del maraquero Jose Salínas; el Conjunto Gloria Habanera de Floro Acosta y el grupo del cantante Vicentico Valdés, que llevaba el nombre de El Nacional Juvenil. Tambien estuvo con Tata Gutiérrez y su grupo Bolero 1935, y el Conjunto Apolo de Raúl Diaz.
Varias veces le sirvió de suplénte al gran Arsenio Rodríguez y se destacó con el grupo Diseño Moderno de Marcelino Valdés, tumbador de mucha fama en Nueva York, por su participación en la orquesta de Tito Rodríguez.
Volvió a tocar el bongó en el 1946 y despues pasó a las tumbadoras con la orquesta del show La Corte Suprema Del Arte, en la emisora CMQ, mientras alternaba con Armando Romeu y su Orquesta Tropicana. Ahí conoció al maestro Bebo Valdés y según el ganador del Grammy para el año 2009, Cándido fue un personaje clave en el desarrollo de su creación: el ritmo de batanga.
Sin embargo, Cándido no se conformaba con el mero toque de sones y la rumba de solar. Soñaba con el mundo del espectáculo, con el teatro vernáculo y las luces de Broadway. Otros músicos compartian su sueño: Machito, Mario Bauzá, Miguelito Valdés y Chano Pozo.
El éxodo de músicos continuaría durante la segunda guerra mundial, y creo que el fenómeno histórico de la diáspora musical cubana en los Estados Unidos se merece un libro aparte. Y claro, Cándido se merecería entonces un capítulo para el solo.
LAS OLAS DEL CAMBIO – UN ESTUDIO SOBRE LA PERSEVERANCIA
Todo el que ha conocido a Cándido debe de entender que aunque el camino que lo condújo al éxito fue largo y duro, su historial está impregnado de emociones íntimas y de anécdotas interesantísimas. Este señor lleva en su mente una gran cantidad de recuerdos, saturados de alegría y de sabor tropical.
Me contó una vez que en aquel humilde barrio habanero de El Cerro, le ayudaba a su amigo Mongo Santamaría a repartir el correo por todo la vecindad, para que éste terminara temprano y ambos pudieran ir al cabaret a tocar música. Algunos decanos que aún viven, podrán regresar el tiempo, a través de sus recuerdos, para servir de testigos de aquella rara fecundación musical, el mestizaje musical del jazz norteamericano y el son cubano, cuyo arquitecto fue el genial Arsenio Rodriguez Scull. De ahi nace el son montuno, trampolín para todo lo que llegaría más tarde.
Al final de la década de los treinta hubo músicos de ambos paises que empezaron a experimentar con otra notable síntesis, que aún no tenia nombre ni llevaba etiqueta. Los más atrevídos inovadores del nuevo ritmo serían Stan Kenton y Damáso Perez Prado, que habian sembrado la semilla de aquel fenómeno que venía; sin ni siquiera haberse conocido. Me refiero al jazz latino, conocido en su inicio como jazz afrocubano.
Pero mientras Kenton solo experimentaba, Prado buscaba el éxito commercial, el ”jonrón” que lo sacaría para siempre de la pobreza. A pesar de su genio musical y su talento innato, el ilustre y excéntrico Prado no encontró ese éxito en Cuba, ni tampoco en Nueva York. Las ideas avanzadas de este pianista matancero lo llevarían a suelo azteca, lugar donde le esperaba el éxito rotundo.
Mientras tanto, el tiempo pasaba y el volcánico Cándido tampoco lograba su sueño en Cuba. Desde aquel rincón habanero escuchaba en la radio a la innovadora y formidable orquesta de Machito y Mario, y se veía tocando en los clubes nocturnes de Harlem. Fue así que nuestro Cándido decidió buscar fama y fortuna en la babel de hierro. Eso es historia.
CÁNDIDO Y LOS RASCACIELOS: EL SUEÑO REALIZADO
Un dia como cualquier otro se realizó aquel sueño de Cándido, mediante una gira que se llevó a cabo por la ciudad de Nueva York, con la pareja de bailarines Carmen y Rolando, una gira que culminó con el show llamado “Tidbits of 1946” (chismecítos del 1946).
Y ahi estaba Cándido, entre la rumba de salón y el swing de Benny Goodman, trabajando con los mejores jazzistas de la babel y acompañando a las parejas de baile más famosas de la capital habanera.
Al fin, ahí estaba él; entre la belleza excepcional de una cubanía que había dejado su huella eterna por los caminos de otras latitudes y la disciplina estructurada del jazz moderno. Los norteamericanos le llaman a este fenómeno “the best of both worlds”.
De inmediato se dio cuenta de que su destino era el no volver jamás a la incertidumbre. En mente y en corazón, regresaba el tiempo y recordaba que desde muy temprana edad el jazz ya lo había llamado, y asi fue que Cándido Camero alzó su vista hacia la meca de la música afroamericana: Nueva York.
A la edad de 25 años llegó a los Estados Unidos y muy pronto comenzó a tocar en el Club Le Downbeat con el pianista de jazz Billy Taylor. Debería de haberse sentido eufórico, al saber que la ciudad de los rascacielos lo acogía con brazos abiertos. Pero resultó algo inesperado, pues al nuevayorquino hispano también le gustaba la gozadera, y en pleno ambiente bailable Cándido logró despojar su ritmo contagioso con las orquestas de Machito y de José Curbelo. Asi fue que logró insertarse dentro del mundo “latino” estadounidense.
De esta forma creó una dualidad musical en su persona y dentro de poco tiempo se veía la figura de Cándido, acompañando a los comediantes Dean Martin y Jerry Lewis en el Habana Madrid, o viajando por Puerto Rico y la Republica Dominicana con la pareja de baile René y Estela, la más famosa pareja de bailarines cubanos. Quizas en algún salon de baile se sentían sus toques callejeros, que le hablaban directamente a los rumberos desterrados y a la comunidad latinoamericana de la urbe. La sangre llama.
CÁNDIDO Y CHANO – LOS PRIMEROS PIONEROS DEL JAZZ LATINO
En su mayoría, los historiadores están de acuerdo y está bien documentado que Cándido llegó a Nueva York un año antes que Chano Pozo y que se estableció aquí dentro de los círculos de jazz.
Sin mucha fanfarria, el caballero del bongó asimiló el ambiente crudo y segregado del norte y trabajó lo suficiente como para sobrevivir. No lucía egoísta ni alardoso, ni llamaba la atención, excepto cuando le tocaba hacer sonar los parches de su pequeño instrumento.
Y eso sí, dominaba también las tumbadoras y le hacia competencia a Chano. Su mera presencia en un escenario conducía a los espectadores a gritar “Candído” (con el acento en la í, pronunciado “Candeedo”). Al escuchar el vítor del publico el mulato tamborileaba sus dedos sobre el pellejo del bongó, o sobre las tumbadoras. A veces, quinteaba sobre ambos tambores a la vez, con el mismo ánimo de vivir aquel ritmo contagioso que lo estremecía cuando era un niño y tocaba las latas de leche en su querido barrio de El Cerro.
Pero resulta que en ese momento la historia toma un rumbo inesperado, y con la ayuda clave del músico Mario Bauzá, el extravagante Chano se vincula con el más popular y avanzado de los jazzistas: Dizzy Gillespie, y la colaboracíon de estos dos va formando la célula de lo que hoy le llaman jazz latino (Latin Jazz).
CÁNDIDO EN LA VANGUARDIA: EL DESTINO INTERVIENE
Ahora, pongan atención; la personalidad de Cándido era completamente opuesta a la de Chano. Y sin embargo ahí tenían a Cándido, bien parecido, con cierta educación, introvertido y humilde. Un hombre que se vestía con traje y no buscaba ser el centro de la atención de todos, pero eso sí, metía tremendo show aunque no era escandaloso.
Mientras tanto la farándula nuevayorquina se fijába más en el extrovertido y ambicioso Chano, promoter de su propio imágen, brusco, bullicioso y feo, que vestía como los famosos “chuchéros” de La Habana.
La guapería cubana se enfrentaba a la sublime manisfestación de un ser muy humilde y tranquilo. El punto clave en aquellos momentos no era el hecho de que Chano fuese mejor intérprete, percusionista ni animador (showman), sino que logró ser su propio promotor. Un espectáculo en sí que cantaba a lo africano y era de tez oscura, prieto, y por ende le daba un toque auténtico a lo afrocubano.
Cándido era de piel clara, un mulato fino que hablaba con una voz suave, mientras que Chano mantenía la imagen del típico negro de solar.
Quizas en un ambiente social como el de hoy esto no sería motivo de dilema, pero acordamos que aquella era otra época, se vivía en un sistema donde la lucha entre las clases (el “class struggle”) se destacaba, y ahi tenemos la principal diferencia entre estos dos pioneros del tambor cubano.
Por su carisma extravagante Chano cayó en el foco de la publicidad, su nombre y su figura se escuchaban y se veían con más frecuencia que las de Cándido. Dada su asociación con Dizzy y su reputación de “guapo” que se prestaba para controversias, Chano florecía.
Por otra parte un sosegado, modesto y discreto Cándido se desenvolvía en otro ámbito, en un ambiente menos callejero, menos peligroso y hasta cierto punto más sofisticado. La comunidad jazzista lo veía como un caballero, no como al Chano, quien había desarrollado una fama de “busca pleito”.
Sin embargo, la figura de Chano sigue siendo la más celebrada de los dos, precisamente por estas cosas, pero aún más porque fue un tumbador agresivo; y además de ser un formidable compositor y bailarín, fue un rumbero por excelencia. Al César lo del César.
Me parece una buena idea hacer esta comparación entre ambos y lanzar una descripción de sus diferentes caracteres, aunque quiero dejar muy claro que no estoy favoreciendo a ninguno de los dos sobre el otro. Chano jamás le hubiese robado la posición a Cándido, y vice versa. Cada uno tenia su don. Lo que plantéo aqui son cosas del destino y del comercialismo, nada más.
Chano Pozo era Chano Pozo y Cándido Camero era y sigue siendo Cándido Camero. Ambos son de los nuestros. No se trata de polémica, sino de una misma historia en la cual se presentan dos verdaderos baluartes, ambos dignos de admiración por nuestra comunidad nuevayorquina. Dos grandes de nuestra música urbana. Creo que no está en mi el definir quién fue el mejor, eso estára siempre con el público.
Ambos fueron pioneros, y sin embargo por esas cosas de la vida y por condiciones que muchos desconocen, la fama se le pegó más a Chano, y claro, despues de su trágica muerte, se convirtió en un mito y una leyenda. Mientras tanto, Cándido siguió su trayectoria de caballero y músico complaciente.
Es quizas por esto, que nunca se le dió el mismo mérito que a Chano. Con el tiempo el público nuevayorquino se olvidaría de Chano, y surgirían otros congueros estelares como Mongo Santamaría, Patato Valdés, Armando Peraza, Franciso Aguabella, Tata Güines, Sabú Martínez, Ray Barreto y algunos más.
Y en medio de los contendientes, se encontraba de nuevo nuestro Cándido, batallando como un campeón entre los campeones. A principios de la decada de los ‘50, fue solista de la orquesta de Stan Kenton, con la cual recorrió el país tocando tres tumbadoras en un período en que otros tocaban sólo una (o quizás dos). Además, raspaba el güiro y tocaba el cencerro con el pie. Cándido fue el primer multi-percusionista en la historia del jazz y creó un estilo único al interpretar melodías como las que hacían los pianistas y los percusionistas de las orquestas sinfónicas. En cuanto a este tipo de afinación se refiere, su único rival sería Patato, que aún vivía en Cuba.
CÁNDIDO Y LA FIEBRE MAMBERA: EL NUEVO RITMO ES EL QUE MANDA
De repente estalló el nuevo ritmo, en México. Y el mundo se puso a bailar mambo. Ni la música de concierto ni los combos de jazz le llamaban ya la atención a la juventud, y las bandas grandes comenzaron a desaparecer. Simultáneamente llegó el rokanról, y Cándido se mantuvo firme, porque tenía su fundamento.
Supo adaptarse a todo lo que estuviera en boga, y conste que, en años posteriores, el callado y apartado Cándido tambien quedaría en el olvido, pero por cierto tiempo, aunque a mi criterio fue simplemente porque él ya no figuraba en la musica popular bailable. Se movía en otro ambiente.
En 1951 Cándido regresó a su patria y realizó giras por toda la isla con el cantante Orlando “Cascarita” Guerra y los bailarines Gloria Y Rolando. A su retorno a Nueva York en el ‘52 Cándido se acopló con Dizzy Gillespie y de ahí en adelante su fama fue creciendo. Incluso, allá por el ’54 la famosísima sección de ritmo de los maestros Machito y Bauzá se unió a Cándido para desarrollar un proyecto muy elaborado, con músicos de óptima calidad, encabezados por el propio Gillespie, cuyo titulo era “The Manteca Suite”.
El clásico tema de Chano volvió a hacer historia y a la vez señaló la desaparición de las orquestas jazzband (big band). Aquel acontecimiento, no obstante, Cándido se hallaba de gira con la banda gigante de Kenton, ese mismo año, aunque en el ambiente social ya le quedaban poco tiempo a las orquestonas como estas.
Su magnifica ejecución percutíva se puede apreciar bien en las grabaciones de Kenton para el sello Capitol; como por ejemplo “Have A Havana”, en donde se une a su primer amor, el bongó. Solo hay que escuchar el tema “Bacante” para ver que en aquellos momentos Cándido era el dueño de ese instrumento.
Tambien hubo giras a lo largo de los Estados Unidos con Tito Puente, Joe Loco y Miguelito Valdés, mediante los famosos festivales nombrados “Mambo U.S.A”. Ya para el ‘57 se presentía la muerte del mambo a nivel internacional, aunque en el patio nuevayorquino aún reinaban sus melodias y su baile contagioso.
Esa verdad se la deben los nuevayorquinos al famoso salón de baile conocido como El Palédiun (Palladium Ballroom), en donde Cándido se presentó muy a menudo (como solista). Ese mismo año la fiebre mambera lo llevó a Venezuela y después a las montañas de Monticello con Los Lecuona Cuban Boys, pero la musa le volvía a llamar hacia la gran manzana, adonde algo muy especial lo esperaba.
En un instante, el destino de Cándido Camero cambió, y ese destino se llamó Tony Bennett. La historia nos indica que cuando el caballero de las congas se unió al cantante y caballero italiano-americano, de ahi en adelante su sueño se hizo realidad. Juntos, viajaron el mundo y nos informa el propio Cándido que su rostro fue usado para introducir e ilustrar la tumbadora (conga drum) en el World Book Encyclopedia (desde el año 1960 hasta el 1972) en la sección de instrumentos de percusión. A finales de aquella epoca tan increíble ya Cándido se habia destacado como una verdadera estrella de jazz, y en el año 1959 su nombre figuraba junto a los de Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie y Miles Davis en el afamado Club Birdland. ¡Que manera de terminar una decada!
CÁNDIDO Y LA NUEVA OLA: UN NUEVO COMIENZO
Durante la decada de los ‘60 el volátil Cándido se había destacado principalmente como acompañante de artistas al estilo de Las Vegas y de Broadway. No fue bobo, pues se sabía muy bien que ahí estaba la plata. Sin embargo, no se le pegó la misma fama que se adquiere tocando en salones de baile. Esto no es universal, es un fenómeno muy particular a nuestra ciudad.
Sin embargo yo lo veía mucho en el show del Chateau Madrid, en el mismo lugar que ahora ocupa el Latin Quarter, tocando para bailadores, junto a Israel “Cachao” Lopez y otros músicos que dejaron el ambiente rumbero para la seguridad del cabaret. Allí acompañaban a artistas de nombre como Celia Cruz, Xiomara Alfaro, Olga Guillot, Bobby Capó, Pedro Vargas, Rolando La Serie, Myrta Silva, Roberto Ledesma, Vicentico Valdes y un elénco de artistas internacionales.
Pero ese ambiente era para hombres de plata, y la creciente clientela del boogaloo y la salsa se movía en otro ambiente, más barato, aunque a mi criterio ahí se gozaba más, por que la plata corría por otras vias, quizas por la yerba y el huele huele, que no costaban tanto como la bebida. Además, la juventud de esa época ya estaba perdiendo el gusto por lo genuinamente cubano, y el nuevo híbrido estaba ya en sazón.
En Nueva York no solo se experimentaba por otras vias en cuanto a la propia música, sino en cuanto al vestuario, la ética y hasta en el propio baile se desviaba de la norma. Surgió para aquel entonces el baile al estilo “soul” y “boogaloo”, y ahi estaba nuestro Cándido de nuevo, grabando cosas bailables que cabían dentro de la etiqueta de “crossover”. Anticipando los cambios de gusto en la juventud, el volcán de las congas empezó a grabar como solista en el 1962 para el sello Roulette, lanzando el elepé titulado “Conga Soul”.
RECONOCIMIENTO MUNDIAL: MÁS ALLÁ DEL SUEÑO
En el mundo de la farándula internacional, el amable Cándido se ha destacado como percusionista y su imagen siempre ha estado vinculada a grandes eminencias como el antes mencionado Dizzy Gillespie. La lista de colaboradores incluye Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, Tony Bennett, Steve Allen, Machito, Tommy Dorsey, Jackie Gleason, Tony Bennet, Chico O’Farrill, Patti Page, Charo, Luis Vigoreux, Nancy Ames, Polly Bergen, Pat Boone, Joe Franklyn y Mike Wallace.
Fue nombrado “Maestro del Jazz del 2008” por la agencia pública National Endowment for the Arts (NEA). Este premio es el máximo reconocimiento a la música denominada jazz en toda la nación y hasta la fecha ha sido de mucha honra para 100 grandes figuras del género. Este músico de 89 años ha sido solamente el segundo cubano en recibir el reconocimiento. El saxofonista y clarinetista Paquito D’Rivera, fue nombrado en el 2005.
Debo de mencionar su aparición en la television junto a Lena Horne en el show de Ed Sullivan, tanto como su presentación con la orquesta de Duke Ellington en la producción “The Drum Is A Woman” (el tambor es una mujer) y además con Charlie Parker en su concierto con violines en Carnegie Hall.
Se destacó junto al pianista británico George Shearing en “Latin Escapade”, para el sello Capitol. Como líder grabó varios discos para el sello ABC Paramount Records. Entre los antes mencionados elepés estan tambien “Latin Fire”, “Calypso Dance Party”, y “Candido”.
Duró con esa empresa hasta el 1965, integrandose despues al sello Tico en el ‘67, dejando solamente una joya musical de géneros bailables cubanos. Este disco se tituló “Brujerías de Cándido” e incluye al maestro Israel “Cachao” López en el bajo, con el respaldo de la orquesta de Tito Puente. Otra grabación, muy de colecionista, es una en la cual Cándido toca el bajo de madera junto a los jazzistas Ray Bryant al piano, Art Blakey y Sabú Martínez en la percusión y el legendario Oscar Pettiford en el cello. El tema se titúla “Oscalypso”.
Cándido lideró un cuarteto entre los años ’60 y ’64 en el Club Liborio de la calle 48 y Broadway. El grupo destacaba piano, bajo y trompeta, mientras que Cándido tocaba varios instrumentos de percusión. Abría el show como solista y luego entraban los músicos uno por uno, y empezaban a tocar, al estilo muy cubano de descarga.
En el ’64 realizó una gira con el famoso Trío Los Panchos en el Japón y desde el ‘65 al ‘79 volvió a los estudios de grabación, contratado por varios sellos de prestigio que lanzaron los siguientes elepés; “1,000 Finger Man” (Solid State, 1970), “Beautiful” (Blue Note, 1970), “Drum Fever” (Polydor, 1973), “Candido Funk” y “Dancin’ and Prancin” (Ambos para Salsoul, 1979).
Despues de un breve periodo en la penúmbra, Cándido resucitó en el año 1981, más o menos cuando el mundo empezaba a reconocer al talentoso pianista cubano Marco Rizo. Trabajó con frecuencia para el cuarteto de Rizo, hasta el 1985. Mientras tanto hacía giras con otro gran pianista; el panameño Rafael Benítez.
En el ‘81 ambos fueron a tocar en los carnavales de Panamá y despues acompañaron a Xiomara Alfaro por todo Centroamerica. De ahí Cándido se unió a la agencia de Steven Scott Productions & Orchestra para tocar exclusivamente en fiestas privadas. Con esta agencia trabajó por diez años, y al comenzar la década de los noventa, se integró al renombrado grupo “The Conga Kings”, con el cual grabó varios discos.
Con este grupo se han realizado varios conciertos y giras a nivel internacional. Recientemente el cineasta Iván Acosta produjo un documental sobre la vida de Cándido titulado “Manos De Fuego”. Además, uno de sus conciertos fue grabado en vivo y lanzado al mercado con el mismo título.
Por mi parte, me siento orgulloso de poder contarle a nuestros lectores sobre algunos aspectos de la historia del jazz latino y me alegro mucho que Cándido ahora esté recibiendo el reconocimiento por su habilidad como percusionista y por su sonrisa de buena gente.
Su aporte al jazz es indiscutible, aunque en el ambiente latino a Cándido no le han llegado a dar el homenaje que verdaderamente se merece. Francamente, esto yo lo veo como un atraso. Claro, sabemos (y aceptamos) que ya no vivímos en la época dorada, que es otra era completamente diferente; sobrevivímos dentro de un comercialismo a donde “lo nuestro” ya no es lo nuestro. Las imágenes de Cándido y de Chano han llegado a ser opacadas por otras figuras que ahora pretenden ser “pioneros”. ¡Que horror!
¿Por qué será que en las flamboyantes ceremonias de los premios “Lo Nuestro” no dan espacio para estas figures clásicas? ¿Será porque no existen categorias de instrumentistas rítmicos? Que lástima que ahora no quieran reconocer a Cándido, el primer percusionista en incorporar la tumbadora al jazz a través de su trabajo con Gillespie, Kenton y Tony Bennett.
Sin embargo, existe un tal llamado “jol de la fama” (Hall of Fame) para la música rokanrolera, y me he fijado que ahí si le rinden verdaderos homenajes a los pioneros de ese género. Entonces, ¿porqué no lo hacemos nosotros tambien? ¿Que pasará con nuestro legado musical, si nosotros mismos no lo mantememos en primera plana? ¿Se perderá para siempre? ¿Cuándo será que los “latinos” le daremos un merecido reconocimiento a las leyendas como Cándido Camero?
Su veteranía alcanza ya 80 años, pero esto no significa que ha llegado a la edad del retiro. Segun Cándido: ‘cuando estoy frente a estos tres tambores me siento como un niño’. Y como un buen vino añejo, el hombre de las manos de fuego sigue deleitando a su público, porque su sabor, su ritmo y su sello único lo avalúan para sentirse orgulloso de ser el decano del tambor en los Estados Unidos.
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)
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)
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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carmelo aponte
Dec 21, 2011 at 10:37 am
FELICIDADES Y TE MERECES EL PREMIO PULITZER POR ESTE ARTICULO.BENDICIONES.