Albums
Roberto Fonseca: Yo
This recording, Yo by Roberto Fonseca appears to be his most visceral work of music so far. Despite having a high musical intellect and striving for a cerebral approach to music—which to a certain extent is true of this record as well—Mr. Fonseca appears to have stripped away all style, allowing the music to be stripped of its sentimentality; to be infused with a raw; almost naked emotion. It is clear that the pianist set out to make himself somewhat new. This is not only reflected in the album art, but more importantly, in the music itself. Its raw power in every chart and from chart to chart is reminiscent of Chucho Valdés’ monumental 1999 Blue Note release, Briyumba Palo Congo. The raw nature of the emotions of each melody—whether written by Mr. Fonseca, or as is the case music composed by other participants on this record, for this record—is so intense; so full of dramatic tension that reaching the end of each piece appears to be not only the dénouement of the song’s narrative, but also a distinctly cathartic moment in which the music does not simply dissolve, but retract as if being sucked back into the vortex of its own creation. Clearly this is not something that Roberto Fonseca intended to be; it simply happened because the pianist was in a sacred space; something each of the musicians were drawn into by the jali kunda that the West African contingent brought to the recording. It was somewhat of an easy fit for although Roberto Fonseca does not invoke the Orishas by employing the unique musical/liturgical language of Lucumí, his pianism seems to be doing just that.

Roberto Fonseca is and has always been a spiritual person. This is and has been reflected in his music in the past. He holds fast to his ancestors—near and far—with a deep sense of belonging. The musical figure that he invents in his songs—splayed-fingered chords, repeated minor inversions of the harmonies he plays, monumental crashing clusters of notes played or fisted on the keyboard represent the spiritual highs that a person might experience in praise and worship, for instance. On Yo the masterful producer Daniel Florestano did more than realise the musician’s vision; he also brought some of it to fruition, adding West African griots and Gnawa musicians who enable the trance-like direction that Mr. Fonseca’s music takes. This is clear from the outset even when titles are mysterious and almost innocuous—such as “80’s,” which ends in a form almost reminiscent of the sacred music of the Europeans. “Bibisa” carries on this jelili effect through the ethereal vocals of Fatoumata Diawara, which are refracted in Mr. Fonseca’s piano trills as he begins to converse also with the kora and the cavaquinho of that other musical wonder: the Brasilian, Munir Hossn. The effect is hypnotic.
Musical continuity is often an issue when a recording begins with such intensity and must continue through songs that are not necessarily thematically linked. But here Mr. Fonseca is an absolute master. His “Mi Negra Ave Maria” is worshipful to the extent that it is almost reverential. Obviously the influence of Mr. Fonseca’s mother is omnipresent, not the least because she has a hand in the composition, but the addition of spoken word by Mike Ladd is a stroke of genius. The musical highs throughout appear to be bordering on the celestial thereafter. “7 Rayos” with its poetry and funerary drums and harmonics that hark to some fantastic choral music, and the mesmerising “El Soñador Está Cansado” are easy to single out as examples, but even incidental music seems not so incidental after all. Consider “El Mayor” and “Rachel” for instance. And who would have thought that Roberto Fonseca would luck in on a stellar performance by the raï superstar, the phenomenal French-Algerian Faudel Belloua who floats as if he were a gliding condor, over the music of “Chabani” so named after a friend of the pianist. By now Mr. Fonseca’s recording is floating in a rarefied realm and it never really descends to earthly realms until its energy dissipates in the crashing remixes of “80’s” and “Bibisa”.
The musicians on this recording play their respective roles exceedingly well. Bassist Étienne M’Bappé is superb and almost melodic on both electric and acoustic basses especially on “JMF”. Percussionists Ramsés Rodriguez and Joel Hierrezuelo Balart play from vastly different palettes, but both eventually add sublime colour to the music. However the spotlight must dwell just a little longer on Baba Sissoko and his Tamanin or talking drum whose pitch is marvellously manipulated to mimic the tone and prosody of human speech. Notable performances also come from the Brasilian, Munir Hossn, who soars each time he has a window. Vocalists Faudel, Fatoumata Diawara and Assane Mboup; together with Mike Ladd and the poem of Cuban national poet Nicolas Guillén are absolutely astonishing. All these musicians eventually play into the hands of Roberto Fonseca, who draws each into his spiritual vortex that becomes his own rebirth in the form of Yo.
Track List: 80’s; Bibisa; Mi Negra Ave María; 7 Rayos; El Soñador Está Cansado; Chabani; Gnawa Stop; El Mayor; JMF; Así Es La Vida; Quien Soy Yo; Rachel; Bibisa Remix; 80’s Remix.
Personnel: Roberto Fonseca: piano, Fender Rhodes, Hammond B3, Moog; Étienne M’Bappé: acoustic and electric basses; Ramsés Rodriguez: drums; Joel Hierrezuelo Balart: percussion, vocals; Baba Sissoko: n’goni, talking drum, vocals; Sekou Kouyate: kora, electric kora, vocals; Fatoumata Diawara; vocals (2, 13); Munir Hossn: guitars, cavaquinho; Faudel: vocals(6); Assane Mboup: vocals (11); Mike Ladd: spoken word, Nicolas Guillén: poetry( 4).
Label: Jazz Village/Concord Jazz
Release date: August 2013
YouTube Playlist – Roberto Fonseca: Yo
Albums
Roni Ben-Hur Opens New Musical Doors Between New York and Havana on “Abriendo Puertas”
The title Abriendo Puertas—“Opening Doors”—captures the spirit of guitarist Roni Ben-Hur’s latest recording with unusual precision. Recorded in Havana with an accomplished group of Cuban musicians, the album is built not around the novelty of a visiting jazz guitarist encountering Cuban music, but around something more meaningful: musicians listening closely enough to find a common language.
Ben-Hur has spent much of his career moving naturally between musical worlds. Born in Israel to a Tunisian family and shaped professionally by New York’s jazz community, his playing draws from bebop, Brazilian music, Mediterranean traditions and Latin rhythms without sounding like a collection of influences. His years with pianist and mentor Barry Harris helped establish the melodic clarity, swing and understated sophistication that remain central to his guitar style. On Abriendo Puertas, those qualities fit remarkably well within a Cuban setting.

The key creative partner is pianist Alejandro Falcón, who contributes four of the seven compositions: the title track, “Gua’ One Blues Pal Bobby,” “Lo que es del César” and “El Teide.” Rather than treating Ben-Hur as a soloist placed in front of a Cuban rhythm section, Falcón helps create an ensemble language in which guitar and piano continuously exchange roles. Their compatibility is evident from the opening title track, where rhythmic momentum and lyrical improvisation develop patiently rather than through display.
“Gua’ One Blues Pal Bobby” pushes the conversation toward the blues while retaining a strong Cuban rhythmic identity. It is one of the album’s most spirited performances, illustrating how readily the vocabulary of jazz can coexist with the rhythmic imagination surrounding Ben-Hur in Havana. By the time the ensemble reaches “Lo que es del César” and “El Teide,” the distinction between guest and host has largely disappeared. What remains is a cohesive band responding to one another in real time.
The album’s romantic center comes through three classic Latin American songs. José Antonio Méndez’s “Mi Mejor Canción” brings the intimacy of the Cuban filin tradition into the program, while Osdalgia Lesmes appears on Isolina Carrillo’s “Dos Gardenias” and Armando Manzanero’s “Esta tarde vi llover.”
Lesmes brings warmth and emotional directness to both performances, and Ben-Hur proves once again what a sensitive accompanist he can be. His guitar surrounds the voice rather than competing with it, reflecting an approach he has developed through years of working with singers, including the late Brazilian vocalist Leny Andrade. Ben-Hur has spoken of the importance of leaving space for vocalists and allowing melody and lyric to remain at the center of an arrangement.
That same sense of space benefits the entire recording. Pedro Pablo Gutiérrez on acoustic bass, Ruy López-Nussa on drums and Octavio Rodríguez Rivera on percussion provide a foundation that is rhythmically rich without becoming overcrowded. Tenor saxophonist Emir Santa Cruz, featured on four tracks, adds another expressive voice and gives several performances a broader jazz-ensemble character.
Recorded at DBega Studios in Havana in November 2025, Abriendo Puertas is part of the Cuban Notes recording series co-produced by Ben-Hur and Dot Time Records founder Johanan “Jo” Bickhardt. Yet the album succeeds beyond the concept behind the series.
Its strength is ultimately found in the musicians themselves. Nobody appears interested in proving how effortlessly jazz and Cuban music can be combined. They simply play together until those distinctions become secondary.
For listeners who appreciate expressive jazz guitar, Cuban music and recordings where collaboration matters more than spectacle, Abriendo Puertas is easy to recommend. Warm, sophisticated and deeply conversational, it finds Roni Ben-Hur opening another musical door—and discovering an ensemble waiting on the other side.
Album Information
Artist: Roni Ben-Hur
Album: Abriendo Puertas
Label: Dot Time Records
Catalog: DT9192
Genre: Jazz / Latin Jazz
Release Date: June 26, 2026
Recorded: November 2025
Studio: DBega Studios, Havana, Cuba
Format: CD / Digital
Program: 7 tracks, approximately 49 minutes.
The project is part of Cuban Notes, co-produced by Johanan “Jo” Bickhardt and Roni Ben-Hur. It follows Alejandro Falcón’s Falcón in Blue as the second album in the series.
Tracklist
1. Abriendo Puertas – Alejandro Falcón – 8:12
2. Mi Mejor Canción – José Antonio Méndez – 6:32
3. Dos Gardenias – Isolina Carrillo – 5:23
4. Gua’ One Blues Pal Bobby – Alejandro Falcón – 9:23
5. Esta tarde vi llover – Armando Manzanero – 5:56
6. Lo que es del César – Alejandro Falcón – 6:17
7. El Teide – Alejandro Falcón – 7:49
Personnel Credits
Roni Ben-Hur — guitar
Alejandro Falcón — piano
Pedro Pablo Gutiérrez — acoustic bass
Ruy López-Nussa — drums
Octavio Rodríguez Rivera — percussion
Emir Santa Cruz — tenor saxophone, tracks 1, 4, 5 and 7
Osdalgia Lesmes — vocals, tracks 3 and 5
Production Credits
Executive Producer: Johanan “Jo” Bickhardt
Co-Producer: Roni Ben-Hur
Recorded at: DBega Studios, Havana
Recording date: November 2025
Sound Engineer: Carlos D’Bega
Label: Dot Time Records
Tropical Report
Cheo Feliciano – Cheo: The Triumphant Return That Became a Salsa Landmark
There are comeback albums, and then there are records that seem to redraw an artist’s entire future. Cheo, the extraordinary 1971 solo debut by Puerto Rican singer José “Cheo” Feliciano, belongs firmly in the latter category. Fifty-five years after its original release on Vaya Records, the album returned to U.S. vinyl in 2026, offering a new generation the chance to encounter one of the defining recordings of salsa’s formative era.
Yet describing Cheo simply as a salsa classic understates its emotional and historical weight. This is a deeply personal record about renewal, vulnerability, romantic disappointment, cultural memory and artistic self-possession. It also documents one of Latin music’s great creative partnerships: Feliciano with Puerto Rican composer Catalino “Tite” Curet Alonso.
Before Cheo, Feliciano was already an admired sonero, having spent a decade with the Joe Cuba Sextet and later worked with Eddie Palmieri. Personal struggles eventually pulled him away from the musical scene. With Curet among those who supported his recovery, Feliciano returned in 1971 and launched the solo career that would establish him as one of salsa’s indispensable voices.

A Singer Who Never Needs to Oversing
The first thing that still impresses about Cheo is Feliciano himself. His baritone does not attack the music so much as inhabit it. There is warmth in the lower register, remarkable clarity in his phrasing and, above all, a conversational ease that separates him from more theatrical singers. He can stretch a phrase, turn a lyric toward the listener or slip into a sonero’s improvisational language without disturbing the shape of the song.
That restraint gives the album much of its emotional power. Cheo can project authority without shouting and heartbreak without melodrama. On Cheo, sentiment and swing are never opposing forces.
The opening “Anacaona” demonstrates that balance beautifully. Curet’s celebrated composition evokes the Taíno cacica Anacaona and transforms historical memory into a song of dignity and resistance. Cheo narrates rather than declaims, allowing the drama of Curet’s text and the momentum of the rhythm section to build naturally. The result is both memorable and deeply rooted in cultural identity.
Then comes “Pienso en ti,” one of Feliciano’s own compositions. The swagger recedes and his romantic side moves to the foreground. His gift as a bolero interpreter is already unmistakable: the emotional weight emerges through phrasing, timing and tone rather than excess.
Tite Curet Alonso and a Song Made to Measure
If Feliciano is the voice of Cheo, Tite Curet Alonso is its literary conscience. Curet wrote six of the album’s ten compositions, including “Anacaona,” “Pa’ que afinquen,” “Mi triste problema,” “Esto es el Guaguancó,” “Franqueza cruel” and “Mano caliente.” Their partnership feels especially intimate because Curet understood not only Cheo’s voice, but the emotional character behind it.
“Pa’ que afinquen” may be the clearest expression of that connection. Structured as a guajira, it functions almost as Feliciano’s statement of re-entry: Cheo is back, confident in who he is and ready to reclaim his place. There is pride in the performance, but remarkably little bombast. He does not need to announce his greatness; the assurance of the performance does it for him.
“Mi triste problema” turns in the opposite emotional direction. Curet gives Feliciano a vehicle for sorrow, and Cheo responds with one of the album’s finest examples of controlled vulnerability. “Franqueza cruel” similarly shows why romantic material became so essential to his identity. Even surrounded by dancers’ rhythms, he remains first and foremost a storyteller.
An Extraordinary Band—and an Unusual Sound
The personnel on Cheo reads like a condensed history of New York Latin music: Larry Harlow on piano, Bobby Valentín on bass, Louie Ramírez on vibraphone, Orestes Vilató on timbales, Johnny Rodríguez on bongos, Johnny Pacheco on congas and coro, Ismael Quintana on maracas and clave, Charlie Rodríguez on tres and Vinnie Bell on electric guitar. The coro includes Quintana, Justo Betancourt, Santos Colón and Pacheco, while Bobby Valentín and Nick Jiménez supplied the arrangements.
That instrumentation matters. Cheo is not dependent on the massed brass associated with so many classic salsa recordings. The absence of a conventional horn section creates a more transparent canvas. Harlow’s piano can breathe, Valentín’s bass gains greater melodic and rhythmic importance, and Charlie Rodríguez’s tres connects the session to the son tradition. Vinnie Bell’s guitar adds an unexpectedly modern colour.
Most distinctive of all is Louie Ramírez’s vibraphone. Its shimmer brings an almost jazz-combo luminosity to the ensemble, softening the edges without reducing the music’s rhythmic force. For jazz listeners, this is one of the album’s great attractions: the arrangements leave enough space to hear how piano, bass, vibes, tres, guitar and percussion interact.
From Guaguancó to the Romantic Cheo
“Esto es el Guaguancó” restores a harder rhythmic edge and celebrates the Afro-Cuban vocabulary embedded in the album. Cheo sounds completely at home above the percussion, interacting with the coro rather than simply singing in front of it.
Side B begins with another Feliciano original, “Si por mí llueve.” Like “Pienso en ti,” it reminds us that Cheo was not merely an interpreter’s showcase; Feliciano also contributed directly to the record’s compositional identity.
“Franqueza cruel” brings Curet’s romantic writing back into focus before “Mano caliente” returns the music to a more vigorous dance-floor pulse. “Medianoche y sol” and “Poema de otoño” complete an album whose sequence constantly negotiates between motion and introspection.
That contrast would become fundamental to Cheo Feliciano’s art. He could inhabit salsa, son, guajira and guaguancó while simultaneously possessing one of the great romantic voices of Caribbean popular music.
More Than a Comeback
What makes Cheo historically important is not only that Feliciano returned, but how completely he returned. The album became a cornerstone of his career and helped establish Curet Alonso as one of salsa’s defining songwriters. Their partnership would continue through later landmarks in Feliciano’s catalogue.
But historical importance alone does not explain why Cheo remains so compelling more than five decades later. The album survives because it still feels remarkably human. The arrangements have space, the rhythm section swings without overcrowding the singer, Curet’s writing combines social consciousness with emotional directness, and Feliciano sounds vulnerable and supremely assured at the same time.
The 2026 vinyl return invites renewed attention to the interaction of some extraordinary musicians and to a singer whose art depended as much on nuance as on power.
For salsa listeners, Cheo is essential. For collectors of the Fania era, it is foundational. And for jazz listeners willing to look beyond conventional genre boundaries, the rhythmic conversation, vibraphone textures, instrumental space and ensemble interplay make it equally rewarding.
Fifty-five years later, Cheo does not sound like a historical artifact. It sounds like the moment a great singer realized that his second act could become his defining one.
Cheo: Complete Tracklist
Side A
1. Anacaona
2. Pienso en ti
3. Pa’ que afinquen
4. Mi triste problema
5. Esto es el guaguancó
Side B
1. Si por mí llueve
2. Franqueza cruel
3. Mano caliente
4. Medianoche y sol
5. Poema de otoño
The track sequence is confirmed by both the original album documentation and the 2026 Craft Recordings release.
Personnel & Production Credits
Cheo Feliciano — lead vocals
Johnny Pacheco — congas, chorus; recording director
Larry Harlow — piano
Bobby Valentín — bass; arrangements
Louie Ramírez — vibes
Orestes Vilató — timbales
Johnny Rodríguez — bongos
Ismael Quintana — maracas, clave, chorus
Vinnie Bell — electric guitar
Charlie Rodríguez — tres
Justo Betancourt — chorus
Santos Colón — chorus
Tite Curet Alonso — producer/co-producer, songwriter
Jerry Masucci — co-producer
Bobby Valentín & Nick Jiménez — arrangements
Johnny Pacheco — recording director
Izzy Sanabria — album design
For the 2026 vinyl edition:
Dave Polster & Clint Holley, Well Made Music — AAA lacquer cutting
Format — 180-gram vinyl
Packaging — gatefold jacket reproducing original Vaya Records artwork
Label — Craft Latino / Craft Recordings
Original label — Vaya Records, a Fania imprint.
Albums
Alex Hamburger & José Luiz Martins Turn Shared Memories into “Catalog of Dreams”
On Catalog of Dreams, flutist and vocalist Alex Hamburger and pianist José Luiz Martins create music that feels less like a formal recital than a private conversation gently opened to the listener. Their debut as a duo is intimate, spacious and quietly adventurous, shaped by Brazilian music, jazz, folk traditions and the accumulated language of six years spent performing and listening together.
Hamburger and Martins first met in Basel, Switzerland, in 2018. She came from the Washington, D.C./New York orbit; he had left São Paulo to pursue graduate studies in Europe. Their connection quickly evolved into an ongoing collaboration, eventually sharpened by a 2023 residency in the Swiss mountains where the ideas behind Catalog of Dreams began to take clearer shape.
The album gathers eight pieces—six reinterpretations and two originals—into what feels like a curated exhibition of shared influences and memories. Rather than simply presenting a varied repertoire, Hamburger and Martins reshape each selection according to the emotional logic of the duo.

Their chemistry depends on restraint. Hamburger’s flute often seems to breathe through the arrangements, moving with a lightness that never feels fragile. Her voice brings warmth and vulnerability, while Martins supplies an unusually responsive harmonic foundation. His piano playing is full without being crowded, and his use of keyboards and synths subtly enlarges the album’s sonic field.
Brazilian music forms the deepest thread. Gilberto Gil’s “Ladeira da Preguiça” carries an easy rhythmic vitality, while Airto Moreira’s “Tombo in 7/4” turns its unusual meter into something fluid and playful rather than cerebral. Luisa Lacerda’s “Poente,” with lyrics drawn from a poem by her father, André Lacerda, brings a more reflective mood. These pieces make the Brazilian lineage explicit, though its influence can be heard throughout the album in the duo’s sense of pulse, melody and harmonic colour.
Their reading of Wayne Shorter’s “Dance Cadaverous” reveals another side of their shared language. Shorter had long been a point of musical connection between them, and here they honour him through space rather than imitation. Martins leaves room around the harmony, while Hamburger’s flute moves through the piece with a searching, almost suspended quality.
By contrast, Thundercat’s “Captain Stupido” introduces welcome humour. The duo became fascinated with the song during their Swiss residency, drawn to the idea that playfulness could carry its own emotional depth. Their version strips away the original setting and rebuilds the tune within their own intimate instrumental world.
The original “Catalog” may best summarize the project. Hamburger’s links to jazz, folk, Black American music and the Great American Songbook merge naturally with Martins’ Brazilian sensibility, creating something hybrid without ever sounding self-conscious about it.
At just under thirty minutes, Catalog of Dreams is concise but deeply expressive. Its greatest achievement is not stylistic variety, but the feeling of two musicians listening closely enough to create a world that belongs fully to both of them.
For listeners drawn to Brazilian music, contemporary chamber jazz and the art of musical conversation, Catalog of Dreams offers something increasingly rare: two distinctive voices creating a third language together.
Released: August 2026
Label: Challenge Records
Runtime: 29:40
Tracklist
1. Ladeira da Preguiça
2. Catalog
3. Tombo in 7/4
4. Detour Ahead
5. Captain Stupido
6. The Riddle
7. Poente
8. Dance Cadaverous
Personnel Credits
Alex Hamburger – flute (1, 3, 5, 8); voice (1, 2, 4, 7); synth (2)
José Luiz Martins – piano, synth, keys
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