Interviews
In Conversation With Francisco Mora-Catlett
“Music is about freedom, that’s what it proposes, that’s why it’s so popular and that’s why people love it. And it’s not freedom that come without discipline. This is something that Sun Ra taught me very well. You have to be disciplined in order to obtain the tools to express freedom.” Francisco Mora-Catlett
Interview Conducted By: Tomas Peña – Oct 2013
Francisco Mora-Catlett, Detroit JazzFest 2013 by Lisa Luevanos
For nearly 50 years Francisco Mora-Catlett has marched to the beat of his own drum. Born in Washington, D.C. and raised in Mexico, his father is the Mexican painter Francisco Mora and his mother is the renowned African American sculptress, Elizabeth Catlett. He began his career as a studio musician for Capitol Records Mexican Division with Abraham Laboriel and moved to Boston in 1970 to study music and drumming with Alan Dawson at the Berklee College of Music. Francisco also earned a scholarship to study with the legendary Nigerian drummer and activist, Babatunde Olatunji. He returned to Mexico in 1973 and crossed paths with the prolific composer, pianist and bandleader Sun Ra and traveled the space ways as a member of the Arkestra until 1980. During his tenure with Sun Ra, Francisco moved to Detroit and formed his own bands. In 1987 Francisco recorded “Mora!” his first recording as a leader and was awarded a grant from the National Endowment of the Arts to study with the legendary drummer, composer, band leader Max Roach and recorded several projects with Roach’s all-percussion ensemble, “M’Boom.” He returns to Detroit in 1992 and accepts a position as a visiting professor with Michigan State University, teaching percussion that derives from the African presence in the Americas. In addition, in 1996 he played drums and percussion on “Bug in the Bassbin,” with Detroit techno producer Carl Craig’s groundbreaking jazz/electronica fusion project, “Innerzone Orchestra.” Three years after Francisco recorded his acclaimed second album, “World Trade Music and his first “OUTERZONE” in 2000. Since relocating to New York in 2002, Francisco and his wife, the Cuban dancer and choreographer Danys Pérez Prades “La Mora” founded the “Oyu Oro Afro-Cuban Dance Company,” and recorded with the Freedom Jazz Trio, “Outerzone” and “Afro Horn MX,” one of the most noteworthy recordings of 2012. “Rare Metal” marks another step in the evolution of AfroHorn. Francisco Mora-Catlett is the recipient of several awards from The Detroit Council of the Arts, The Michigan Council of the Arts and The National Endowment for the Arts. In a career that spans nearly 50 years, Francisco Mora-Catlett creates music according to tradition that is elusive, defies definition and nourishes the spirit.
THE INTERVIEW
Art work by Nia Mora
Congratulations on the release of “Rare Metal,” the follow-up to “Afro Horn MX,” one of the most noteworthy and “best kept secrets” of 2012.
Thank you.
You were introduced to the writings of the African American writer and poet Henry Dumas, and the short-story, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” during your tenure with Sun Ra. Of all of Dumas’s writings, why did this story have such a big impact on you?
In between the lines of the story, Henry Dumas is appealing to the human nature of expectation through myth. In reality the Afro-Horn is a cleansing or healing tool for misconceptions or ideas, of what things are vs. what they should be. To understand this we have to meet the man, Henry Dumas, and his style of writing and what he was writing about. What I find fascinating is the fact that Dumas utilizes all of these elements that derive from the African presence in the continent and demonstrates how it interrelates with the social make-up as it evolves. This is what happens with the Afro-Horn. The Afro-Horn is a spiritual tool that delivers. It has the potential of uniting people and the potential to “clear out” unfounded notions and misconceptions. The other thing I like about Dumas’s writing is the fact that it is elusive and defies categorization, which is intrinsic in the nature of music.
Your music has been described as a fusion of the mystical and spiritual insights of Henry Dumas, African mysticism, Cuban Folklore, Latin American surrealism and avant-garde jazz.
It is music and it stands by its self! This is something that Duke Ellington and Max Roach talked about when they were confronted with the idea of jazz. They proposed that this music is as valid as any other music. It doesn’t have to be put into a category. Music is about freedom, that’s what it proposes, that’s why it’s so popular and that’s why people love it. And it’s not freedom that comes without discipline. This is something that Sun Ra taught me very well. You have to be disciplined in order to obtain the tools to express freedom. The Afro-Horn reveals these things and heals this pre-perception of what things should be or what things have to be. The music stems from tradition, hard work, investigation and life experience.
No doubt you could write a book about your experiences as a member of Sun Ra’s Arkestra. Looking back on that period in your life, what did you gain from the experience? What do you remember most?
The fact, that I was extremely lucky. I am not fond of the idea of luck or pre-destiny, but I believe that there are no coincidences. Before I met Sun Ra I was carrying around the album, “The Heliocentric Worlds of Sun Ra” proclaiming, “This is the music of the future, the avant-garde of now!” At the time I was a student at the University of Mexico. Everybody thought I was crazy!
How did you and Sun Ra meet?
Looking back on the experience, I was very fortunate. I went to school for years trying to learn the “language” of jazz. Understand, growing up in Mexico I was not exposed to African American music, though Afro Cuban music was very present in the form of Celia Cruz, Pérez Prado, etc. After Berklee, I returned to Mexico with the idea of creating an avant-garde jazz movement, but it didn’t happen. At the time I was struggling to make a living, performing commercial music, and then I saw a poster that read, “Sun Ra at the “Palacio de Bellas Artes”, I couldn’t believe it! I went running over there and after the concert, I went backstage to talk to the fellas (fellow musicians) and I overheard Sun Ra saying that he needed to send for a drummer because Lex Humphries was leaving. So I said, “Sun Ra, I am right here, I play drums, man!” He told me to come back to the theater the next day so that he could hear what I do. The next day I went to the theater, set up my drum-set and Sun Ra said, “Play.” “Play what?” I asked and he replied, “Just play!” So I played my conceptual thing, my “free” bag and Sun Ra looked at me really interested, then he went away and came back … this went on for about 30 to 45 minutes, I was really working up a sweat. Finally, he came over to me and said, “You got the gig!” I played with the Arkestra in Mexico City for about three months then Sun Ra told me that he was returning to the U.S. and he asked me if I would like to work with the Arkestra in the U.S. At the time I was having difficulties with my VISA so Sun Ra accompanied me to the American Embassy. Picture this: As we approached the Embassy gates two marines lowered their weapons and yelled, “Halt!” Sun Ra waved his hand like a Jedi Master and said, “I have business in this embassy” and they immediately lowered their weapons and said, “Go right in.” Now we are in the American Embassy – no one gets into the embassy just like that! – We get directed to an office and sit in front of a man who asks, “Can I help you?” To which Sun Ra replied, “There are very few people in this planet that can play my music.” Then he pointed to me and said, “He is one of them! I want to take him to the United States with me and I want you to give him a VISA for three years,” and he handed the man my passport. The guy looked at me, looked at Sun Ra then he disappeared for about 20 minutes. When he came back he said, “Everything is fine” and he handed my passport to Sun Ra. As we walked out of the Embassy Sun Ra turned to me, handed me my passport and said, “The power of the word is stronger than the power of the sword!” let’s go. That’s how I re-entered the United States. I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if it weren’t for Sun Ra.
I get the impression that with Sun Ra truth was often stranger than fiction.
The band traveled from Mexico City to Chicago, by bus, which is something the big bands used to do all the time. I quickly realized that the most precious, living, was schooling me breathing school of African American music that anyone could ever ask for. For a young musician like me, there was no place else that I would rather be.
Another major influence in your life and career was the legendary drummer, composer, arranger Max Roach.
When I was working for Capitol Records in Mexico, someone sent me the album, “Percussion Bittersweet” and it turned my life around. After listening to Max’s music I said to myself, “If I am going to play this instrument for the rest of my life I want to be like this man.” Max possessed all of those characteristics of a progressive creative artist, a composer, a bandleader and a highly technical developed musician.
How did you and Max meet?
My mother, Elizabeth Catlett, had an exhibition in New York at the Studio Museum in Harlem in 1971. Max showed up with (singer/songwriter/poet) Oscar Brown Jr. and I struck up a conversation with him. I asked Max for advice on how to become a good drummer, he was always very gracious and generous with me and simply said practice all day long and play all night long, it took me a while to get to that. When Max visited Detroit in the early 80’s, I approached him about studying with him and about applying for a grant with the National Endowment of the Arts to do so in New York, and he was very supportive of the idea. Before I knew it, I was in Max’s living room and he told me, “We aren’t going to be playing any paradiddles” (drum exercises), we are going to learn the business. Overtime I became an understudy for the advanced percussion ensemble, “M’Boom,” which featured some of the top percussionists of the day – Joe Chambers, Freddy Waits, Omar Clay, Roy Brooks, Warren Smith, Ray Mantilla, Fred King and Eli Fountain, among others. As an understudy I had to work on learning everyone’s parts and find things that I could contribute to an already exceptional percussion improvisational repertoire, which made me study really hard. Also, Max was the person who took me to Cuba for the first time. When I went there I realized a lot of things about Cuban Music that I couldn’t perceive in the United States. Cuba is another world, another universe! Max gave me the opportunity to get into the real aspect of Afro-Cuban traditions.
You also studied under the legendary Nigerian drummer, Babatude Olatunji. Who can forget “Drums of Passion?”
“Drums of Passion,” is the first LP I ever had! I met “Tunji” in Boston at the Center for African American Artists (also known as the Elma Louis Center) in 1971. I received a scholarship to study with him. It was Olatunji who introduced me to the African culture, the Orishas and the legacy of our spiritual ancestors. I studied African drumming with Olatunji on Tuesdays and African American drumming with Alan Dawson at Berklee on Wednesdays. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Photo by George LeGare
You chose to unveil “Rare Metal” at the Detroit Jazz Festival. Given the fact that you lived and worked there, it must have felt like a homecoming. How was the ensemble received?
We had such great reception from a wonderful audience, it was beautiful. We smoked, we burned, we had a full house, we got standing ovations. The icing on the cake was saxophonist John “J.D.” Allen, who sat in with us. We left a smoke screen behind. It was something that I really wanted to do for Detroit.
Photo by Lisa Luevanos
It’s no secret that the city of Detroit has seen better days.
It’s a double-edged sword. The city is broke. On the other hand it is also experiencing a renaissance and a reformation. Detroit has given so much to the world; the people are strong, honest and sincere. You can’t come to Detroit with gimmicks because they will read you from a mile away. You have to be for real.
“Rare Metal” begins with the invocation, “Moyuba Afro Horn.” What is the significance of opening the recording or a live performance with an invocation?
The invocation is part of the philosophy of the album and of course, the surrealistic ideas of Henry Dumas. “Moyuba Afro Horn” praises the ancestors and expresses how grateful we are to be able to offer this music. Also, we are announcing the fact that something is about to happen and we are expressing our gratitude to the audience and to the forces of the universe. (Listen to Sam Newsome soprano sax playing a percussive part with the Mbira).
“Afra Jum” appears on “Mora!” your first recording as a leader. It also happens to be one of my personal favorites.
I wrote “Afra Jum” in the 1980s. Actually, it’s “Afra Jam,” so we get back to the idea of elusiveness and of that, which cannot be, describe or be seen. Basically, it’s an arranged juju-jam session with all participation (Check out Alex Harding’s explosive baritone sax solo and Aruán Ortiz wonderful harmony and expressive high energy solo).
Barasuayo Mamakenya speaks about the owner of the roads, opening the way to the stars, the constellations and the vibratory principles of nature. Shades of Sun Ra …
Barasuayo Mamakenya is a praise song for the deity Eleguá in the Yoruba liturgy. In a wider perspective Eleguá represents vital force, the force that makes things happen. It also alludes to the ability to communicate, like we are doing right now. I have seen and heard trumpeter/percussionist Jerry González perform this tune numerous times in a jazz context. I told Jerry that I recorded the tune and he said he has to get the album. (Beautiful solos by Alex, Aruán and Sam).
(Interviewer’s Note: The tune, appears on Jerry Gonzalez and Fort Apache’s “Crossroads” as “Eleguá”)
5X Max (Five Times Max) is a tribute to your mentor, colleague and friend Max Roach.
Max was an artist who was ahead of his time. He was experimenting with mixed-meters as far back as the 1950’s. For example, the album, “Percussion Bittersweet” features Carlos Patato Valdéz and Eugenio Totico Arango (Patato y Totico) accompanying him in 7/4 time, which was unheard of at the time. In honor of Max, I play the tune in 5/4 time, thus 5X Max. (Powerful “rhythmatizing” solos by Alex and Román Diaz I go at it with Max and Big Sid Catlett in mind).
Salina Ago/Salino Ago Reprise
This song comes from the Haitian settlements in the eastern part of Cuba. A very important subject that helps a wider understanding of the diverse cultural elements that were in New Orleans and propitiated the creation of Jazz Music is “The Migration of Settlers from Saint-Domingue (Haiti) that settle in Eastern Cuba and moved to New Orleans in the year 1810”. After the revolution in Saint-Domingue (The Haitian Revolution) many French Créole colonists fled with their slaves and free people of color, some of whom also had and transported slaves with them, to the Eastern part of Cuba, the Spanish crown was very pleased to have them there because Cuba’s capital had been moved to Havana and the land was left rural and underdeveloped. In 1810 Napoleon invaded Spain, France and Spain became enemies so all these settlers had to move in mass to New Orleans and doubled the city’s population. (The vocals, provided by Danys Pérez and vocalists from Oyu Oro, give this work initial incredible authenticity. Salim Washington’s flute rendition and Sam Newsome’s wonderful soprano sax solo give improvisational character to the piece).
Olodo, Blue People and Blue People Epilogue
The tune, Olodo is a poem by Román Diaz. He and I were talking about the “Tuareg People” from the Sahara, also known as the “Blue People” and their incredible survival instincts, their ability to navigate the stars and navigate life, and Román came up with this poem. The title was originally supposed to be “Azul” but Román changed it to Olodo. (Check out Sam’s soprano sax)
Henry Dumas speaks about the Bluepeople (his spelling) in the short story, “The Metagenesis of Sun Ra” (to Sun Ra and his Arkestra).
Make Ifa – featuring the poetry of Jayne Cortez.
“Jayne Cortez” liked the Horn band and she came to many of our performances. She was also a friend of Henry Dumas. Did you know that, in addition to being a great poet she had a performance band called “The Firespitters?” I proudly have a bunch of her albums! When we were putting the album together Román and I decided to choose a poem by an African American poet. I went into Jayne Cortez’s arsenal of poems and found, Make Ifa. Sandra Harper’s vocals provide just the right voice and bassist Rashaan Carter nails the Ifa chant while Alex Harding (a former “Firespitter”) reminds us of the power of Jayne Cortez. The tune is a tribute to Jayne, who we all miss her so much.
Ye Ye Olude
This is a song for the Orisha Oshun. Oshun is the cosmic force that represents love and everything that life is worth living for. She’s the owner of the rivers, the sweet waters, honey, music, gold and everything that is good in life. In order to avoid the obvious, we chose not use the batá drums for this work. Instead, we incorporate a rhythm of Dahomeyan origin called Iyesa. The tune is a joyous dance that came together naturally. I am very happy with the way this tune turned out, there is nothing contrived about it. (Check out Sam’s soprano solo while Aruán expands the harmonic and rhythmic sonority, taking it to the outside, I love Rashaan Carter’s bass solo it swings all he wants while Román keeps together… I’m smiling all the way)
Photo by Keita Hanyuda, art work by Nia Mora
Let’s talk about the collective, a multi-cultural, multi-generational, multi-talented collective of musical heavyweights and bandleaders in their own right: saxophonists Alex Harding, Sam Newsome and Salim Washington, pianist Aruán Ortiz, bassist Rashaan Carter, percussionist/vocalist Román Diaz, percussionist Andrew Daniels, Oyu Oro vocalists: Danys “La Mora” Pérez, Meredith Wright, Liethis Hechavarria and Sandra D. Harper.
When I arrived in New York Salim Washington was very supportive of the Afro Horn project. Today Salim lives in South Africa but he was in New York when we were recording the album so I invited him to join us, and he graciously accepted. His oboe, flute and saxophone added another dimension to the music. Aruán Ortiz and my wife are from Santiago de Cuba and Román Diaz, who hails from Havana, has known my wife (from the Afro-Cuban Folklore Artistic scene) since she was 11 years old. Sandra Harper and the vocals come from her Afro-Cuban dance company Oyu Oro. When I first met Sam Newsome, I instinctively said to him, “We have to do something together, man,” even though I hardly knew him. Rashaan Carter and I are both from Washington, D.C., Alex Harding and Andrew Daniels go way back rooted in Detroit. The connections run deep and there are no coincidences!
The liner-notes are telling. I particularly enjoyed reading the comments of the band members. For example, Salim Washington wrote, “Great Black music from the ancient to the future!” Some of the other musician’s described AfroHORN as “a cultural gift,” “a complete community,” “family” and “hogar y escuela” (home and school), a sure indication that AfroHORN is more than “just” a band.
The only reason I am the leader is because somebody has to pay the bills and be responsible for the group. Obviously (smiles), our collective experience is what makes this music happen. AfroHORN is a collective effort and everyone should be given his or her “props.” It’s very important for the music and for the development of our sound.
In spite of the fact that Rare Metal is an independent recording and beholden to no one, I hope that it receives the attention Afro Horn MX did not receive. There is so much music that escapes the attention of the public because of the powers that be in the music business, the constraints of radio and the notion of money over art.
Afro Horn MX was an independent recording with limited distribution. In spite of that, it made the “Open Sky” list of top 30 recordings of 2012 and “Latin Jazz Network’s” list of Best Recordings of the Year, strictly through word-of-mouth and without a publicity campaign. It made me realize that AfroHORN is really on to something and it inspired me to continue on.
In the poem “How Long Has Trane Been Gone,” Jayne Cortez wrote, “There was a certain time when certain radio stations played all black music, from Charlie Parker to Johnny Ace, on show after show, but what happened, I’ll tell you what happened, they divided Black music, doubled the money, and left us split again, is what happened.”
Which brings me to the final question: What’s your take on the current New York music scene?
New York is a mecca. You have your established icons that have given so much, like Sonny Rollins and Ron Carter and all of this tradition and new musicians who come into an oversaturated situation. Sooner or later, they start thinking, that if they are going to survive they have to learn how to play pretty much like everyone else. The problem is that after a while they all start to sound alike. Every now and then a musician will stand out, but it’s very difficult to maintain a group and develop a unique sound in this atmosphere. Some cats have to leave New York in order to focus on their sound and develop some relevant new ideas. People, who are trying to make a difference, have to go to the spirit of it all. I don’t want to call it suffering because it’s an introspective thing. My advice to young musicians is, find your own sound. Or as Max Roach used to tell me, “You got to have your own if you want to add to the throne!”
Your career embodies what it means to be an artist with an uncompromising vision and spirit. What keeps you going?
It’s elusive (Laughs). I call it courage in motion, courage on the run! I don’t believe in luck or pre-destiny, but I have been very fortunate to have studied and performed with so many incredible musicians during my lifetime. At this stage in my career AfroHORN is really the icing on the cake.
Thank you for sharing your journey and congratulations on the release of “Rare Metal,” an exceptional recording that deserves to be heard.
Recommended Listening:
Mora! (Japanese Import – AACE Records)
Freedom Jazz Trio – New Under the Sun (AACE Records)
Afro Horn MX – (AACE Records)
Outerzone (Premier Cru Music, 2007)
Max Roach – Percussion Bittersweet (JDC, 2010)
Heliocentric Worlds of Sun Ra (ESP Disc, 2010)
Recommended Reading:
Echo Tree – The Collected Short Fiction of Henry Dumas (Coffee House Press, 2003)
Jazz Fan Looks Back – Jayne Cortez (Hanging Loose Press, 2002)
Space is the Place – The Life and Times of Sun Ra (Pantheon, 2012)
Photo by George LeGare
2013 AfroHORN “RARE METAL”
SAM NEWSOME: Soprano sax / SALIM WASHINGTON: Tenor sax, flute and oboe / ALEX HARDING: Baritone sax and bass clarinet / ARUAN ORTIZ: Piano / RASHAAN CARTER: Acoustic and electric bass / ROMAN DÍAZ: Percussion and Vocal / ANDREW DANIELS: Percussion / DANYS “LA MORA” PEREZ, MEREDITH WRIGHT, LIETHIS HECHAVARRIA and SANDRA D. HARPER: “OYU ORO” Vocalists FRANCISCO MORA-CATLETT: Drums, percussion, composer, arranger and general artistic director.
*Photo at the top by George LeGare, edited by Juan Mora-Catlett
Introduction: The Rhythmic Map of José Guzmán
For guitarist and composer José Guzmán, the distance between the academic rigours of a Doctoral degree and the street-level pulse of a Puerto Rican bomba circle is non-existent. Born and raised in Ponce, Guzmán has spent his career translating the “hard 90-degree pivot” from rock-and-roll to jazz into a sophisticated, percussion-driven language. His latest project with The Afro-Caribbean Jazz Collective, Cortadito, serves as a vibrant proof of concept for his “drum-first” philosophy—an approach that demands the composer master the hand drums before ever picking up the pen.
In Cortadito, Guzmán departs from the traditional jazz quintet by daringly removing the drumset entirely. By centring the barril and congas, he creates a sonic space that smells of the Caribbean sea and feels like the cobblestones of Old San Juan. It is an intimate, unfiltered snapshot of heritage that balances the intensity of son montuno and songo with the tender, lived-in emotions of the bolero.
In this candid conversation, Guzmán opens up about the “flying without a net” energy of the Collective, his responsibility to the legacy of masters like Rafael Cortijo and William Cepeda and why he believes that to truly play Latin Jazz, you must first learn to speak through the skin of the drum.
“The title Cortadito is a snapshot of my heritage and upbringing… I was flooded with memories of the mountain view from my home in Ponce, the cobblestones in Old San Juan…”
On Cortadito (2025 JGB Music)
Cortadito has clearly resonated with critics and audiences alike—what was the central artistic vision behind this album, and how does it build on or depart from Fiesta at Caroga?
Fiesta at Caroga was a great way to find my artistic voice, while Cortadito has refined my vision. After Fiesta at Caroga, I felt that I needed to connect the audience with my Puerto Rican roots. I composed tunes that put the Puerto Rican folkloric rhythms of bomba front and center (“Holande Pa Uste” and “Witches Dance”) while expanding on our repertoire with son montunos, cha cha, boleros, and songo.
The title Cortadito evokes something intimate yet culturally specific. What does the title represent for you musically and personally?
It’s a snapshot of my heritage and upbringing. As I wrote the music for the album, I was flooded with memories of the mountain view from my home in Ponce, the cobblestones in Old San Juan, and the smell of the Caribbean sea. The imagery of the empty coffee mug in the album cover, the intensity of the music, and the gentleness of boleros are staples on the island.
Can you walk us through your compositional process for this album? Did the pieces emerge from rhythmic concepts, harmonic ideas, or lived experiences?
A mixture of all of the above. I purchased several percussion instruments (congas, Puerto Rican barril, etc) and dove headfirst into learning the lineage of the drum and playing all the patterns that I write music for. If I can’t play it, I won’t write it. It was common to hear teachers at the Puerto Rico Conservatory say, “to play Latin jazz, you gotta play the hand drums,” and that is common to hear in interviews of the masters as well. Some ideas came to me as I practiced my basic patterns and became useful with the help of practice tools such as Agustin Espina’s Latin Percussion Grooves or the mobile app PercussionTutor.
As for the lived experiences portion, it’s very personal storytelling. The idea for Roberto Cantoral’s “El Reloj” came to me as I took care of my father before he passed away, and I always dedicate the song to my audience because we all share that feeling of losing a loved one. Others, such as “A Sunny Kind of Day” and “Orchard Downs,” are based on my day-to-day life experiences in Puerto Rico and the state of Illinois.
How did you approach balancing Afro-Caribbean rhythmic traditions with modern jazz language on this recording?
While I was writing, I felt a strong responsibility to write melodies that swing with the clave, the drum patterns, and, at times, the dancer. The harmonic canvas tends to reveal itself afterwards. My writing process varies; at times I’ll have a melody come to mind, record a voice memo (or more), and then I’ll find the rhythm that fits. Other times, I’ll play the drums and let the pattern lead me to a new melody.
Were there particular tracks on Cortadito that presented unique challenges or breakthroughs during recording?
Recording is always tedious because, unlike playing live music and the “flying without a net” feeling that comes with it, you can easily get stuck in your head, striving to create a good product. I am lucky enough to say that I surrounded myself with very positive friends who were also enthusiastic in the process. “El Volcán” and “Holandé Pa Usté” were challenging but fun to record.
“I am building on the foundation laid out by Rafael Cortijo’s Time Machine and William Cepeda… pushing the boundaries of what was Latin jazz at the moment of publication.”
On Musical Identity & Heritage
Your music reflects a deep connection to Puerto Rican rhythms. How do you translate traditional forms into a contemporary jazz context without losing their essence?
As a fan of salsa music and traditional folklore, I wanted to keep the dance aspect of the Afro-Caribbean rhythmic traditions and adorn it with melodies that percolate from the hand drums. Even the decision of not having a drumset in the recording was made in an effort for the percussion section to shine and pop out. In live shows, I’ll have drummers set up a timbale/drumset similar to what Samuel Formell (Los Van Van drummer and leader) uses, but I still prefer the timbales with a kick drum for the studio.
During the barril solo on “Witches Dance”, I actually had someone come into the studio and dance a traditional bomba improvisation for the drummer to play to. Having that solo kept the spirit of the dancer, which was really important for me.
Growing up in Ponce, Puerto Rico, what early musical influences shaped your identity as a guitarist and composer?
My influences are a wide spectrum of genres. I grew up listening to Fania Records, Puerto Rican folklore artists, and the boleros of El Trio Los Panchos, but in my teenage years, I learned guitar by playing classic rock and mid 90’s trending rock bands. By then, I found myself playing in several rock bands with my neighbors, writing music and playing shows. It wasn’t until I was 18 years old when I discovered Al Di Meola, Paco de Lucia, and John McLaughlin’s Saturday Night in San Francisco that I pivoted to jazz, and that pivot was a hard 90 degrees into the genre.
How do you see your work contributing to the broader narrative of Afro-Caribbean jazz today?
I am building on the foundation laid out by Rafael Cortijo’s Time Machine (1973) and William Cepeda’s Puerto Rican jazz discography (1992 onwards), to name a few. Both artists focused on bringing the rhythms of bomba and plena into the jazz realm, pushing the boundaries of what was Latin jazz at the moment of publication.
“The beautiful (and intimidating) part about the Collective is the rotating cast of musicians… in 2025 alone, we collaborated with over 40 musicians across 8 states.”
On Bandleading & The Afro-Caribbean Jazz Collective
As the leader of The Afro-Caribbean Jazz Collective, what qualities do you prioritize when assembling and directing your ensemble?
If we think of it as a pyramid, sight reading is at the top, followed by improvisational skills (especially over clave), and well-rounded musicianship. This is because we don’t get a chance to rehearse as much as I’d like to, so it’s crucial to get the melody and form with as little or no rehearsal time. Currently, I have a core group that travels with me, and I’ll pick up musicians who live in the area we are visiting. I gravitate towards players who play or have played in salsa bands, and the results are always fun!
Your group has developed a strong identity over several albums—how has the band evolved since its inception?
The beautiful (and intimidating) part about the Collective is the rotating cast of musicians who are well-versed in Latin jazz while also exposing strong musicians to playing clave music. This serves as a place for players to grow, as well as my own growth by receiving feedback from Victor Garcia, Roy McGrath, Tito Carillo, Zach Rich, and Matt Shevitz. This is also due to the size of the group and the hectic schedule of musicians with families and other priorities. In 2025 alone, the Collective collaborated with over 40 musicians while playing across 8 states.
What does collaboration look like within the Collective? Do your band members contribute to arrangements or compositional ideas?
It’s always evolving. When I started the ensemble, I would have people bring in arrangements. The last track in Cortadito (“El Volcán”) was written and arranged by tenor sax player Brian Stark. Brian is a strong composer and arranger for a big band, and I fell in love with the tune. Trombonist Ben Carrasquillo is the arranger of our EP version of Nat King Cole’s “Love for Sale”. Several musicians have asked me about writing for the ensemble, and I always welcome it, but I won’t pressure folks to write. Ever since the release of Fiesta at Caroga, I usually consult ideas with members, bring the arrangements to a show, and members will contribute with ideas to enhance the melodic weight or sections.
On Education & Artistic Development
You’ve pursued extensive academic training—from the Puerto Rico Conservatory to a DMA in Jazz Guitar Performance. How has your formal education shaped your artistic voice?
It was very important in my development since my early years as a guitarist were a combination of playing my favorite songs at home and jamming songs with my neighbor, no music theory or formal lessons. The Conservatory is where I developed the foundation for playing jazz and my first exposure to listening to classical music (chamber and orchestral) on a daily basis. Southern Illinois University in Carbondale exposed me to writing atonal music, taught me to analyze it, and provided me with my first opportunity to write for a big band every couple of months. At the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, I got to write a lot of songs and arrangements for a robust instrumentation guided by a faculty whose legacy is found in albums by Arturo Sandoval, Woody Herman, and many more. The latter also taught me the value of research in academic settings, and I am interested in adding the Afro-Puerto Rican voice to that conversation as well.
As someone deeply rooted in both performance and composition, how do you balance intellectual rigour with emotional expression in your music?
Writing music is similar to writing stories; there’s a narrative that makes an audience feel. For me, there has to be a connection between ideas and not just juxtaposing melodic ideas to create sections. If I can sing the melody while playing clave or drums, then I move forward. My favorite tool when composing is the eraser, especially when overcomplicating melodic statements or when I get a bad case of writer’s block.
On Career & Looking Ahead
You’ve worked across genres—from jazz to chamber music to rock—and collaborated with diverse artists. How have these experiences influenced your approach as a bandleader?
It exposes me to different approaches of ensemble performing, ways of conducting an ensemble, addressing the audience, learning about the music industry from peers, and exchanging arranging techniques that would’ve been “learned” from a book. These projects also influenced my thought process when composing, creating a setlist, and deciding what to do (or not) in the bandstand, and it allows me to get comfortable being on stage.
Looking ahead, what new directions or projects are you most excited to explore with The Afro-Caribbean Jazz Collective?
The success of Cortadito has given me the confidence to continue to write a lot of music. I’m excited to go back into the studio in the summer to record new music that is exclusively focused on bomba rhythms alongside Chicago-based bomba ensemble Colectivo Sayba. I’m also writing new tunes for a separate recording session in a similar vibe to Cortadito.
Brazilian pianist, composer and producer Ricardo Bacelar opens up about Maracanós, his ambitious new collaboration with legendary percussionist Airto Moreira and special guest Flora Purim.
In this exclusive interview, Bacelar reflects on how the album emerged organically during the filming of a documentary at Jasmin Music’s studio in Fortaleza (the capital of Ceará, a state located in northeastern Brazil), where creativity flowed through improvisation, friendship and artistic trust. He discusses building what he calls “a film without images,” blending Brazilian rhythms, orchestral textures, electronics and spontaneous musical interaction.
Bacelar also speaks about Airto’s enduring legacy, Flora’s spiritual vocal presence, the symbolism behind the album title, and why protecting artistic freedom in an algorithm-driven music industry remains essential.
“Art needs risk, surprise, contradiction, silence and emotional density,” Bacelar says.
Read our full conversation on Maracanós, one of the most adventurous Brazilian jazz releases of the year.
“Airto approaches music with the spirit of a child discovering sound for the first time.”
Maracanós brings you together with the legendary Airto Moreira, one of the most influential Brazilian musicians in jazz history. How did this collaboration first come about, and what made this the right moment for you both to create an album together?
This collaboration emerged very naturally through our friendship and through the documentary project we were developing around Airto and Flora at Jasmin Studio. During the filming sessions, we spent many hours together inside the studio environment, talking about music, listening to sounds, and experimenting with rhythms and textures. At a certain point, the creative process itself became stronger than the original plan. We realized there was an album being born there organically.
I believe the timing was special because we were all completely open artistically. Airto carries an extraordinary musical freedom, and I was interested in creating a sonic universe where Brazilian music, improvisation, cinematic atmospheres, and contemporary production could coexist without limitations. Maracanós became the result of that encounter.
You’ve described the project as being born organically during the filming of the documentary. Can you take us back to those sessions at Jasmin Studio in Fortaleza and describe the atmosphere that led to the creation of Maracanós?
The atmosphere was extremely creative and immersive. Airto and Flora stayed with us in Fortaleza for an extended period, and the studio became almost like a living organism. Music happened all day long. Sometimes ideas would emerge during rehearsals, sometimes during conversations, and many times while the cameras were rolling.
Jasmin Studio is inside my home, so there is a very human and intimate dimension to the recordings. We were surrounded by Brazilian light, food, conversations, nature, silence, and deep musical exchange. That emotional proximity created trust, and trust creates freedom. I think you can hear that spirit throughout the album.
The album appears to embrace freedom, spontaneity and experimentation, qualities that have defined Airto’s career for decades. How did you balance structured composition with improvisational freedom during the recording process?
For me, composition and improvisation are not opposites. They complement each other. Some pieces began with harmonic structures or rhythmic ideas I brought to the sessions, but once the musicians entered the emotional space of the music, we allowed the compositions to breathe.
Airto has an incredible instinct. He transforms rhythm into narrative. So I tried to create an environment where spontaneity could happen without losing the identity of the pieces. We recorded many moments in a very open way, preserving imperfections, interactions and
emotional reactions. That human unpredictability became part of the language of the album.
Your production approach combines acoustic instruments, synthesizers, percussion and strings in a very cinematic way. What was your sonic vision for Maracanós, and how did you build that immersive soundscape?
I wanted the album to feel almost like a film without images. A sonic landscape where Brazilian rhythms could coexist with orchestral textures, electronic atmospheres, improvisation and silence.
The production was built very carefully inside Jasmin Studio, which is designed for immersive audio and deep acoustic detail. We used analog and digital elements together, combining percussion layers, piano, synthesizers, strings and spatial textures, almost like painting with sound.
I’m very interested in emotional depth and timbre. Sometimes a texture can say more than a melody. The immersive aspect of the production became fundamental in creating this sensation of movement, memory and atmosphere.
“Flora transforms emotion into sound very naturally… Airto approaches music with the spirit of a child discovering sound for the first time… They have an almost telepathic connection.”
Flora Purim makes a special appearance on “Voo da Tarde.” What did she bring to that track creatively, and what was it like having both Flora and Airto together in the studio?
Flora brings something very unique. She transforms emotion into sound very naturally. Her voice carries spirituality, freedom and an unmistakable musical identity. On “Voo da Tarde,” she added a dreamlike dimension that elevated the piece emotionally.
Having Flora and Airto together in the studio was deeply inspiring. They have lived and created music together for more than six decades, and there is an almost telepathic connection between them. Sometimes they communicated musically with just a glance. Witnessing that inside the studio was very moving.
Airto is receiving the prestigious National Endowment for the Arts honour this year. Did working so closely with him give you new insights into why his influence on jazz and Brazilian music remains so profound?
Absolutely. What impressed me most was not only his musical genius but his permanent curiosity. Airto approaches music with the spirit of a child discovering sound for the first time. He is always searching, always experimenting.
His influence goes far beyond percussion. He expanded the vocabulary of rhythm inside jazz and brought Brazilian musical identity into a truly global conversation without losing authenticity. Working closely with him made me understand even more deeply how innovation and freedom are connected in his artistic philosophy.
The title Maracanós is intriguing. What is the story behind the album’s title, and what does it symbolize artistically or culturally?
The title was created by Airto Moreira himself, and I love the poetic and symbolic dimension it carries. Maracanós combines the words “maraca”, “Maracanã”, and the pronoun “nós”, which means “we” in Portuguese. The title, therefore, brings together rhythm, Brazilian identity, collectivity and movement at the same time.
There is something deeply Brazilian in the sound of the word, but also something open and universal. It evokes percussion, nature, birds, popular energy, community and encounter. I think this perfectly reflects the spirit of the album, a musical encounter built collectively through friendship, freedom, improvisation and cultural exchange.
“Maracanós represents friendship, freedom, improvisation and cultural exchange.”
The Kalimera String Quartet appears on two tracks with arrangements by Liduíno Pitombeira. Why was it important to incorporate strings into this project, and how did they expand the album’s musical vocabulary?
The strings introduced another emotional layer to the album. I wanted certain moments to have greater harmonic depth and cinematic expansion, almost like opening a new emotional horizon inside the music.
Liduíno Pitombeira created arrangements with enormous sensitivity. He understands both classical language and Brazilian musical phrasing, which allowed the quartet to interact organically with percussion, improvisation and the rhythmic complexity of the album.
Your label, Jasmin Music, has become an important platform for Brazilian artists across multiple generations. How does Maracanós reflect your broader vision as a producer and label founder?
Maracanós reflects very clearly what I believe Jasmin Music represents: artistic freedom, sonic excellence, cultural identity and creative risk.
I’m interested in building projects that preserve musical depth and emotional truth. We live in a time where music is often reduced to speed and algorithms. Jasmin was created to protect artistic identity and long-form musical experiences. This album embodies that philosophy completely.
Airto mentioned using his voice throughout the sessions in spontaneous ways when he wasn’t playing percussion. Were there moments during the recording process that surprised you creatively?
Many moments surprised me. Airto uses his voice almost as an extension of rhythm and emotion. Sometimes he would suddenly begin vocalizing textures or rhythmic ideas while listening to playback, and those moments became part of the atmosphere of the recordings.
There was a constant sense of discovery in the studio. Some of the most beautiful moments happened unexpectedly.
The album moves away from commercial formulas and embraces artistic risk. In today’s music industry, where algorithms often shape listening habits, how important is it for you to protect creative freedom?
For me, creative freedom is essential. Music cannot exist only to satisfy algorithms or consumption patterns. Art needs risk, surprise, contradiction, silence and emotional density.
I believe audiences still deeply desire authenticity. Perhaps the industry sometimes underestimates listeners. My commitment is to create music that has identity and emotional permanence, even if it follows a more difficult commercial path.
“Music still has the power to create emotional bridges between cultures, generations and human experiences.”
The upcoming documentary directed by Jom Tob Azulay adds another dimension to this project. What can audiences expect from the film that they may not hear on the album itself?
The film reveals the human and emotional dimension behind the music. Audiences will witness the creative process in real time: conversations, rehearsals, improvisations, memories, tensions, humor, affection and the intimacy of artistic creation.
It is not only a documentary about music. It is also about friendship, artistic legacy, exile, Brazil, spirituality and the passage of time.
You’ve collaborated with artists such as Gilberto Gil, Roberto Menescal, Toninho Horta and many others. Where does Maracanós fit within your artistic evolution?
I see Maracanós as one of the most mature and free projects of my career. It synthesizes many things I’ve explored throughout the years: Brazilian harmony, cinematic language, sophisticated production, improvisation and emotional storytelling.
At the same time, it opened new creative doors. Working closely with Airto and Flora expanded my perception of spontaneity and musical freedom.
The album cover artwork by Fernando França reflects a symbolic connection between Brazil and Africa. How important was visual storytelling in shaping the identity of this release?
Visual identity is extremely important to me. I see albums as complete artistic objects, not only collections of songs.
Fernando França created images that connect mythology, ancestry, Brazil, Africa and spirituality in a very powerful way. The artwork reflects the same emotional and symbolic layers that exist in the music itself.
Finally, what do you hope listeners around the world take away from Maracanós, especially those discovering your music, or perhaps even Airto and Flora’s legacy, for the first time?
I hope listeners feel an emotional connection and freedom. I hope the album invites people into a deeper listening experience, where music becomes atmosphere, memory and emotion.
For younger audiences discovering Airto and Flora, I hope Maracanós reveals the timelessness of their artistic vision. For those discovering my work through this project, I hope they perceive the commitment to authenticity, sonic beauty and Brazilian musical identity.
I believe music still has the power to create emotional bridges between cultures, generations and human experiences. That is ultimately what Maracanós represents for me.
Amsterdam-based Cuban-born vocalist Estrella Acosta continues to expand her artistic horizons with Caminos – A Latin American Landscape, a vibrant and far-reaching recording with her ensemble Esquina 25. A Latin Grammy nominee, Acosta has long been celebrated for her deep connection to Cuban and Brazilian traditions. With Caminos, she goes further—tracing a musical map that spans the breadth of Latin America.
From Mexico to Argentina, and from Afro-Caribbean grooves to Brazilian lyricism, the album embraces what Acosta describes as “music without borders,” brought to life through a collective of international musicians based in the Netherlands.
With Caminos, Estrella Acosta and her band Esquina 25 offer more than a collection of songs—they present a living, breathing dialogue across cultures, traditions, and musical languages. It is a project that doesn’t simply travel across Latin America—it connects it.
In Caminos, Estrella Acosta paints a musical landscape of Latin American traditions. She takes you on the road to experience songs from her motherland as well as Mexico, Venezuela, Brazil, Peru and Uruguay, all the way to Argentina. You will hear in this album formats ranging from intimate duos to bigger sounds with her band Esquina 25 and special guests, bringing the listener a variety of rhythms and creative arrangements. Music to listen to and dance to!
In this conversation, Acosta reflects on artistic identity, collaboration, and the evolving language of Latin jazz.
Caminos – A Latin American Landscape
Now available on HearNow
“Caminos – A Latin American Landscape is about movement—not just geographically, but emotionally and culturally.”
Caminos feels deeply personal. Was there a specific moment or realization that set this project in motion for you?
Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to discover and sing many songs from Latin America while living in the USA, Europe and also during my travels through Central and South America. Being a voting member of the Latin Recording Academy, every year during voting season, I have the chance to listen to a great variety of music by its members. This has expanded my horizons and revived my interest in exploring the folklore and music from this part of the American continent.
As a musician and anthropologist, I always like to go back to the past, dig into the roots and check out the music of people around the planet. In the past, I explored the music of Cuba and Brazil, and now I want to get closer to other countries of the Americas. Luckily, I could form a band, Esquina 25, consisting of excellent international musicians who understand its character and spirit – they speak the language of these various traditions.
For this album, the first song that caught my attention was ‘Que Nadie Sepa mi Sufrir’, also known as ‘Amor de mis Amores’, which was written in 1927 as a Peruvian waltz by an Argentinian composer, Angel Cabral, with lyrics by Enrique Dizeo. The song was first popularized by Argentinians Hugo del Carril and Alberto Castillo, and then recorded by many more singers. In 1957, with French lyrics by Michel Rivgauche, Edith Piaf made it a big hit in Europe. Of course, what fascinated me about this song was its beautiful melody and lyrics, and the challenge was to make this song, which had been recorded by so many artists, our own. I asked one of my favorite arrangers, Venezuelan trumpetist Michael Simon, to create something different. He wanted some spoken words in it, so this allowed me to feature my mom reciting a few lines of poetry. This song got my project in motion.
Living in Amsterdam as a Cuban artist, do you ever feel a sense of distance from your roots—or has that distance actually deepened your connection to them?
The distance from my motherland has deepened my connection to my roots. I left Cuba when I was 11 years old. Thanks to my parents, I was able to retain my identity and culture while growing up in Texas. They always played Cuban music at home, and my dad taught me how to dance. They still have a great collection of LP’s by Celia Cruz, Beny Moré, Trio Matamoros, Bola de Nieve, Fajardo y sus Estrellas, etc. My mother took care of passing on the poetry of Cuba and Latin America by reciting the many poems she had memorized since her youth. Later in life, I studied poetry and literature at the University of Mexico City and then graduated from the University of Texas at Austin, where, of all things, I started singing Brazilian music.
Coming to live in the Netherlands opened new doors to the music of Cuba. It was here that I first had a chance to listen to many Cuban bands performing live, such as Cachao, Los Papines, Sierra Maestra, NG La Banda, Los Van Van, Chucho Valdés and Irakere, and later Afro-Cuban All Stars, Buena Vista Social Club, and many more artists.
So it was also in the Netherlands that I returned to Cuban music, thanks to a group of Cuban musicians I met there around the year 2000. We formed a band playing Cuban country music, which toured and recorded the album Alma Guajira. So yes, living in Amsterdam brought me closer to my musical roots.
This album travels across so many countries and traditions. Were there any musical cultures in this project that challenged you or pushed you outside your comfort zone?
Yes, I had the adventurous idea to sing a Venezuelan merengue, ‘De Tanto Quererte’, also known as ‘Merenson’. This song is in a fast 5/8 rhythm, a groove very different from what I was used to. I did songs in 5/4 and 7/4 before, but this one was of a different nature. It is part of the folklore that comes easily to those who grow up with it… I had listened to Venezuelans singing this style, and they make it sound so easy – for me, it was a challenge. Double bassist Samuel Ruiz from Venezuela helped me figure it out and saved me on this one; it was great to have an expert on board. Luckily, ‘Merenson’ also goes back and forth between merengue and son, so I could always step into familiar grounds. At the end of the arrangement, we added a coro-pregon section that gave it a Cuban touch.
With Esquina 25, there’s a real sense of chemistry and trust. How did you build that musical family?
Esquina 25 came together in 2004 as part of a project fusing Cuban music with Latin jazz. Marc Bischoff and I started the band, with me as bandleader and him as musical director. We have had various members join throughout the years. The current line-up has been steady since 2013. Everyone in the group enjoys the music we are creating and has a lot of freedom to express themselves. It is this sense of freedom and trust that keeps us together – there is mutual love and respect.
“We’re not trying to recreate traditions—we’re in dialogue with them.”
Your collaboration with Marc Bischoff seems central to the album. What kinds of conversations—musical or otherwise—shaped your work together?
Marc and I talk about what music interests us, and also about what musical subjects we can bring to our audience. The album Mujeres de Luna, with songs by Cuban female composers performed by the band and a string quartet, was a very exciting idea for me as a singer and also for Marc, who was looking forward to arranging for strings. He later said that I was the only Cuban doing country music in this part of the world, so I should focus on that genre. This led to the album Tierra, with songs composed by Cuban country singers and some of my own compositions. For the new album, Caminos, he did the arrangement of my song ‘Nevando en Camagüey’. He also recorded most of the album at his studio and mixed it. It is a great privilege for me to work with him.
‘Nevando en Camagüey’ is such an evocative title. What does that image mean to you emotionally?
‘It’s snowing in Camagüey’ is indeed quite a title since we know that it never does…
I visited the wonderful city of Camagüey on my first trip back to Cuba. My lyrics are inspired by the memory of this trip, conversations with family and friends, and stories based on the history and folklore of this beautiful region. Famous are the ‘tinajones’, huge earthenware jars, which the inhabitants have used for hundreds of years to collect rainwater. The legend says that those who drink the water from the tinajones will fall in love with someone from Camagüey and never leave the city again.
But I was also inspired by my aunt Mirita in Havana, who would always use “Está nevando en Camagüey” as a code when she dared to share by telephone any news about our family members living in the USA.
When you interpret songs by composers like Marta Valdés or Armando Manzanero, what do you look for first—the story, the harmony, or something more intangible?
I look for the intangible – how the song hits my guts, my soul, my imagination. I also look at how the music and lyrics transcend musical genres. For example, Marta Valdés was a fan of jazz music, and you can hear it in her bolero on the album, ‘No Hagas Caso’, and in many of her compositions.
There’s a beautiful balance in your music between structure and freedom. Do you ever feel tension between those two forces?
I feel that structure and freedom complement each other. One cannot be musically free without some structure and cannot work with structure without venturing into free spaces. Our Dutch/American saxophonist, Efraïm Trujillo, plays on most of the album’s tracks and is a very sensitive soloist who knows how to balance structure and freedom in his improvisations.
The guest artists bring very distinct voices to the album. Were there moments in the studio that surprised you or changed the direction of a piece?
Recording the duo pieces with the great guitarist from Austin, David Pulkingham, was a nice surprise. We had never played together before. I gave him two songs, ‘Voy Apagar la Luz’ by Armando Manzanero and ‘Milonga Paraguaya’ by Jorge Drexler from Uruguay. We came together a few days later and recorded in an intimate setting, at close distance, and it turned out to be a very organic experience and gave the music a special feel.
The making of the Uruguayan candombe, ‘Ahí va la Comparsa’, was also a very spontaneous experience: A Cuban, a Brazilian, a German and a Venezuelan were all guided here by our Uruguayan drummer/percussionist Enrique Firpi – an essential core member of the band. It was a thrill to sing together with my close friend from Uruguay, Beatriz Aguiar. Recording these songs that had just come out of the arranger’s pot gave a fresh twist to the music.
The contributions of our guest artists on various tunes all gave the album extra spice. We were fortunate to have Elizabeth Fadel on accordion and Paulinho Paes on guitar, both from Brazil, as well as Jorge Glem (cuatro), Gerardo Rosales (percussion) and Michael Simon (trumpet) from Venezuela participating in this project. They were all essential in painting our Latin American landscape.
“Music without borders is not a concept—it’s a lived experience.”
You describe this as “music without borders.” Has your own idea of identity—musical or personal—changed while making this album?
Both my musical and personal identity have changed, so I see myself more as a world citizen. However, they say you can get the girl out of the country, but you can never get the country out of the girl.
Yes, I feel like discovering more music from the Americas, but I also would like to focus on boleros, a style that I have always loved. And talking about a genre of music that transcends borders, boleros have been created not only by Cuban, Puerto Rican and Mexican composers, but also by people from many other nations, including Brazil, which has contributed boleros with the beautiful sound of its Portuguese language.
What did this project teach you about yourself as an artist?
This project taught me many lessons, but most of all, never to give up learning new things and exploring my musical potential.
When you listen back to Caminos now, do you hear it as a destination—or as the beginning of something new?
Listening to Caminos now, I feel that I am standing at the beginning of a new road, a new path; it is the start of something new.
Thank you, Estrella, for sharing your thoughts with our readers.
Thank you for the opportunity.
TRACKLIST
1. De Tanto Quererte (featuring Jorge Glem & Gerardo Rosales) [Merenson]
2. Dunas (featuring Paulinho Paes & Marc Bischoff)
3. Nevando en Camagüey (featuring Efraïm Trujillo & Gerardo Rosales)
4. No Hagas Caso (featuring Marc Bischoff, Samuel Ruiz & Efraïm Trujillo)
5. Que Nadie Sepa Mi Sufrir (featuring Elizabeth Fadel & Efraïm Trujillo)
6. Voy a Apagar la Luz (featuring David Pulkingham)
7. Ahi Va la Comparsa (featuring Beatriz Aguiar & Enrique Firpi)
8. Milonga Paraguaya (featuring David Pulkingham)
-
25 Most Read Posts13 years agoJuan García-Herreros “Snow Owl” – Normas
-
25 Most Read Posts14 years agoEdy Martínez, the Music Architect Behind the Piano
-
25 Most Read Posts16 years agoRaphael Cruz Reaffirms His Commitment To Latin Jazz!
-
25 Most Read Posts11 years agoRubén Blades con Roberto Delgado & Orquesta: Son de Panamá