Latin Jazz

Víctor Cuica “The Eternal Breath of Latin Jazz and Venezuelan Identity “

The legacy of a visionary who fused the saxophone with the essence of the Caribbean and national cinema.

Víctor Cuica was more than just a musician; he was a bridge between two worlds. Born on April 19, 1949, in the iconic Caracas neighborhood of La Pastora, Cuica established himself as a preeminent saxophonist and actor, earning global acclaim for his innovative fusion of Jazz with Afro-Caribbean roots.

His presence defined a golden era in Venezuelan culture, as he shared the stage with legends such as Tito Puente, Paquito D’Rivera, Porfi Jiménez, and Gerry Weil.

Victor Cuica “The Eternal Breath of Latin Jazz and Venezuelan Identity”

Training and First Steps: The Birth of a Style

The journey of this virtuoso—master of the tenor and soprano saxophone as well as the flute—began in 1963 at the Military Music School of La Victoria. His time in the Venezuelan Navy band served as the catalyst for his love of Jazz, leading him to deepen his knowledge of flute, harmony, and composition at the “José Ángel Lamas” Higher School of Music.

His professional career took off in Chucho Sanoja’s orchestra. Shortly thereafter, he joined Oscar D’León’s ensemble. It was actually Cuica who suggested the name “Dimensión Latina” to replace the group’s former name, “Oscar y sus Estrellas,” thereby christening what would become the most iconic salsa orchestra in Venezuelan history.

Victor Cuica in concert held on August 22, 2011 in Juan Pedro Lopez Square in Caracas

Latin Jazz: From the Silver Screen to International Stages

By the late 1970s, Cuica expanded his horizons into the “seventh art.” In 1978, he composed and performed the soundtrack for “The Sea of Lost Time” (El Mar del Tiempo Perdido), based on the short story by Gabriel García Márquez. A year later, he solidified his own group, “Víctor Cuica y su Jazz Latino,” debuting to resounding success at the Alcázar Theater in Caracas and gaining international momentum in Costa Rica.

Throughout the 1980s, critics hailed him as the most important innovator of jazz fusion in the region. His talent brought him to historic venues:

1981: He triumphed at the “Memphis in May” festival in Tennessee.
1982: He performed at the prestigious “Domicile” club in Munich, Germany.
1985: He reached a milestone as the leader of the first Venezuelan group invited to the Montreal International Jazz Festival, where he shared the limelight with the legendary vibraphonist Lionel Hampton.

Artistic Maturity and Recognition

In the 1990s, his music reached new academic heights when Maestro Eduardo Marturet composed the work “Music for Six and Sax” specifically for him. It premiered with the Sinfonietta Caracas and represented Venezuela at the 1992 Universal Exposition in Seville.

Víctor Cuica was not just a musician; he was a bridge between two worlds. Photograph at Juan Sebastian Bar

His discography, which includes gems such as Que sea para siempre (1984), Noctámbulo (1993), Just Friends (1998), and Los Locos de Caracas (1999), stands as a testament to his versatility. In 1995, the Venezuelan Artist’s Guild (Casa del Artista) honored him as Musician of the Year.

A Farewell with the Flavor of the Streets and Bohemia

Víctor Cuica passed away on Saturday, December 26, 2020, at the age of 71 due to a heart attack. His departure left a void in the film industry, where he starred in memorable films such as Santera (for which he also composed the award-winning soundtrack in 1997), and in the bohemian nights of Caracas, where his saxophone was often the soul of the evening.

A Tribute from His Peers

Multi-percussionist José Hidalgo, known as “El Tokun Mayor,” describes Cuica with words that summarize his essence:

“Víctor Cuica is the finest example of an artist intimately linked to his daily reality and cultural origins, without ever losing sight of the cosmopolitan and universal nature of his musical message. Cuica is the expression of genuine jazz performed with the simplicity of the streets.

Víctor is as authentic in his personal character as he is as an artist. This virtue was his companion as he traveled across numerous international stages, spanning the worlds of music, film, theater, and opera always with the transcendence of a bohemian, simple, and bold minstrel.

Cuica never ceases to surprise us, whether through his voice or the sound of his saxophone an instrument that, with his habitual ingenuity, he turned into a centerpiece of performance through his creativity and versatility.

His talent has graced stages across Europe and the Americas. His work projects far beyond the commercial mainstream and, today, leaves us with a brilliant musical improvisation that is truly beyond compare.”

DJ Augusto Felibertt with the one and only virtuoso Víctor Cuica

Today, the name Víctor Cuica remains etched in history as the man who gave Jazz a Caribbean color and gave the Venezuelan saxophone a voice of its own.

Victor Cuica and his Latin Jazz, March 23, 1980 at the Cantv Theater in Caracas

Also Read: Oscar Rojas Oscar Rojas has 54 years of musical career full of passion, rhythm and flavor

Musician and entrepreneur of Latin origin Jorge Torres talks about his band and his company

American multi-instrumentalist and entrepreneur of Puerto Rican descent Jorge Torres had a conversation recently with us about his musical origins, his company Jimmy Jorge Entertainment, his band, and his work with music today. In International Salsa Magazine, we are more than happy to interview him and learn what he has to tell us.

Jorge Torres and his conga — Musician and entrepreneur Jorge Torres next to his conga

Jorge’s beginnings in music in his native Chicago

Jorge said that when he was very young, his mother got a large stereo system that included a record player and radio where she listened to all kinds of music. His brother had a copy album “Che Che Cole” by Willie Colon and a cowbell he used to play constantly, making it the first instrument he heard in his childhood.

In the fifth grade in Philadelphia, he became interested in learning to play the guitar, but at that time his school did not offer guitar programs, but violin. So he decided to try the violin, but only played it during that year. In the eighth grade, he returned to Chicago to live with his father following the death of his mother, and his interest turned to steel drums, which he also referred to as Caribbean drums.

He spent another year playing this instrument until he reached high school and moved back to Philadelphia to live with his brother, which is when he changed his mind again and started loving the trumpet and the conga. He was so passionate about the latter that he bought his own conga, which he still has to this day. Then, other musician friends taught him how to play it, and the rest is history.

Early professional career

His learning to play the conga was the beginning of his life as a professional musician, and he played for various groups such as La Orquesta Cupey, Orquesta La Precaución, and Orquesta La Opinión, among others. During this time, Jorge learned to play many other instruments such as bongos and timbales. His teacher was Mikie Rivera, renowned Puerto Rican singer-songwriter and trova and jazz guitarist, who met with the young man and other musicians in the cellar of a friend’s house to mentor them and work with them.

These meetings aroused in him the idea of creating his own band in the future because of all that Rivera taught him about the music biz, and he wanted to put that knowledge into practice as soon as possible.

Jimmy Jorge and The Latin Jazz Expenses

Jorge’s band started as a small jazz group, but he did not want to settle for that. At some point, he was interested in having an orchestra with four wind instruments, three singers, piano, bass, bongos, timbales, and congas. That is how Jimmy Jorge and The Latin Jazz Express project arose.

This project started as a six-member Latin jazz band in 1995, but has managed to grow to the point that it has about 12 members and plays many other musical genres, although salsa is still very present in its repertoire.

Jorge Torres and the band — Jorge Torres and the rest of Jimmy Jorge and The Latin Express

Through hard work, Jimmy Jorge and The Latin Jazz Express have managed to position itself in the industry until they became the house band on the radio station called “La Mega 1310 AM” for some time and have played at all kinds of events such as The Puerto Rican Parade, La Feria del Barrio, Penn’s Landing’s Hispanic Fest, among others.

Some of the current members of the band are Peruvian singer Joseito Rivera, Puerto Rican singer Lia Montalvo, Dominican singer Hugo Tavares, conguero Edwin “Papo Buda,” percussionist Orlando Santana, and trombonist Edgar Salias.

Jimmy Jorge Entertainment

When Jorge began performing with American orchestras, he noticed that some of them, in addition to their musicians, also had dancers and DJs who were part of the orchestra and the show. The inclusion of these professionals in concerts seemed like a phenomenal idea to him and wanted to put it into practice for his own project, so he took advantage of the contact he had made with singers, DJs, photographers, dancers, and dance teachers to recruit them for his own shows in the future.

So, he began asking for phone numbers in order to build a network of artists he could count on in case he needed their services. Today, he has a large catalog of options for every type of show, making Jimmy Jorge Entertainment one of the most important Latin entertainment companies in Philadelphia today.

Carlos Jimenez offers his talent and passion to charm the audience in universities, hotels, and restaurants all over New York

We are very happy because this beginning of the year has brought us a very friendly conversation with brilliant bandleader, composer, vocalist, and flutist Carlos Jiménez, who kindly answered the questions we had for him.

The New Yorker has many interesting things to tell, so we hope that everyone will enjoy the material below.

Carlos’ beginnings in music

Carlos was born in New York City, but moved to Puerto Rico with his family when he was six years old. It was on the Island of Enchantment that he discovered his inclination toward music thanks to his trumpeter father William, and his cuatrista grandfather Cruz, who encouraged him to take music lessons. Therefore, he also began to receive musical training and built competence for playing percussion instruments such as the timbales, bongos, and congas.

His first lyrical instrument was the trumpet, which he learned to play under the tutelage of Professor Pablo León at Francisco Zayas Santana High School. However, inspired by Mongo Santamaría and his musical arrangements for his song “Song For You,” he decided to switch instruments and start playing the flute, which he has continued to do.

Carlos’ return to New York

As a young man, he decided to return to his hometown highly motivated by the vibrant Latin music scene there, which he describes as “the city where all our dreams come true.” While there, he enrolled at the Music Conservatory of Westchester to study classical flute, but his training have not been completed.

He also studied jazz harmony and voicing with piano teacher Michael Longo, who he describes as a good friend and teacher to the point of making a recording together. Unfortunately, Longo was one of the many victims of the COVID-19 pandemic, which was an immense sadness for Carlos and those who had the privilege of knowing him.

Orlando Marín and Carlos Jimenez — Orlando Marín ”El último Rey del Timbal” and Carlos Jimenez

Results of his prolific career

After more than 20 years of successful career, Carlos has built a great reputation in the industry at the point of passion and hard work. He himself says that his good name comes as a result of his responsibility, reliability, and, most importantly, his ability to play good music.

His great skills as a professional and musician have led him to play at corporate events for companies such as Victoria’s Secret, Nike, ScotiaBank, Regeneron, and many others. In addition to that, he has also been able to play and lead orchestras in performances for universities and cultural institutions such as Lehman College, Sarah Lawrence College, New York Botanical Garden, Columbia University, and many more.

Likewise, Carlos’ band has performed in so many festivals such as West Harlem Jazz Festival, Harbour Jazz Festival, Fall Harvest Fishkill Farm Festival, Lake George Festival, Summer Sound Festival, and many others.

Altruistic side

In addition to the above, Carlos has also earned the respect of his colleagues thanks to the numerous galas, charity events, and community activities the artist has been involved in recent years, which has made him worthy of numerous awards for his community service. This shows that the flutist is not only passionate about his craft, which is music, but also uses it to do good to those in need. We can also add that he has headlined numerous shows at well-known restaurants and hotels such as Casa Cipriani Hotel, The Marriott, Ritz Carlton, The Lexington Hotel, among others.

Carlos Jimenez and Eric Adams — Carlos Jimenez and former New York Mayor Eric Adams

The Carlos Mambo Dulcet

Together with his orchestra, Carlos has released several albums, including “Red Tailed Hawk Vol. 1,” “Red Tailed Hawk Vol. 2,” and “Despierta Boricua,” among others. The artist closed the conversation by saying that his group continues to be formed and has more than 100 musicians and all are are wonderful.

Manhattan Latin Music by Jon Horn

In the year after the big war ended, a terrific hurricane tore across the island, and in the town of Santa Barbara de la Loma the Catholic church was destroyed, but the modest compound of Senora– devotee of the seven powers and gifted daughter of Yemaya, spirit of the seas – went untouched by the storm. The people of Santa Barbara were not surprised. They called Senora “La Poderosa,” the powerful one, for she could heal the sick better than doctors, break and cast spells – but only for good – and see beyond the now and here. Believers in the natural religion came weekly to the walled yard behind her neat, two-room bohio to praise the mighty spirits who might possess them as they danced and chanted to the inspired drumming of the tumbadores.

On the next full moon, Senora called her gente to a special midnight ceremony. Dressed as always in immaculate white robe and turban, smoking a long cigar and swigging from a flask of rum, she told the assembly that Hate was hard at work everywhere, and worse things than hurricanes or even the war just fought were soon to come. Now they must all concentrate their prayerful energies and send goodness in the guise of music to an evil world. The native rhythms of their island, produced from the potent mix of slaves, colons, and indios, could bring people of all kinds and colors together. As dark hands beat out on taut skins a deep, steady roll like distant thunder, Senora called up into the moonlit sky: “May the babies born of Mambo be bringers of justice and peace where there is none! Go, my Mambo! Go now and work your musical magic at the center of the biggest city in the strongest nation on the earth!”

Damaso Pérez performing Latin music — The King of Mambo Damaso Pérez Pardo performing live

And the Mambo went and did all this, and much, much more…

Story goes that a certain midtown Manhattan dancehall was dying a slow death at the tag end of the Big Band era, just after the so-called “Good War.” The guy who was managing this musical venue (maybe for the Mob) was bemoaning the lack of customers to a canny Broadway promoter who poked a sallow finger at the bemoaner and said “Hey! If you don’t mind spics and
niggers in the joint, I can fill it six nights a week!” “At this point I don’t mind if it’s spics, niggers, or little green men!” “Done deal!”

Twas the season of Jackie Robinson “integrating” baseball’s major leagues. Smart money knew that American apartheid couldn’t last forever, at least not overtly. And where else would the winds of change blow first and hardest but in the Empire City, aka Nueva York? So the Palladium opened with a hot mambo policy, the best Afro-Cuban bands were hired, and lines formed around the block. Harlem and Spanish Harlem were now welcome in a big midtown venue. And not only “spics” and “niggers” showed up, but “wops” and yids” as well, the bridge-and-tunnel “mamboniks.” The word spread, and whitebread cafe-society mavericks came to check it out and stayed to shake a tail feather. For the next couple of decades it was the “place to be, thing to do” in NYC, if you wanted to move to and be sent by the best hot Latin sounds.

Around 1954/’55, the mambo crested in the Pop consciousness, with “Papa Loves Mambo,” “Mambo Italiano,” and “What The Heck is the Mambo?” on the mainstream Hit Parade. Perez Prado even took “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White” to Number One on the charts. But the real mambo, cha-cha- cha, guaracha, charanga, and son stayed underground, a niche thing, ethnic dance
music for Manhattan Latins and the cool cognoscenti. Raided and harassed by authorities who didn’t cotton to Mambo’s miscegenating powers, the Palladium lost its liquor license in the early ’60s and closed for good in ’66, just as the “new breed” wave of Latin Soul & Bugalu was making noise on the mean streets. And the beat goes on…

The Mamboniks were cool-looking Italian & Jewish guys & gals, out of high school but not in college, who hung out around Dubrow’s on the Hiway. If one of them had a dented sportscar or an old but flashy convertible, they’d congregate around the car at the curb, the dash radio loudly broadcasting Dick“Ricardo” Sugar’s mambo show of an evening, trying out hip-swinging cha-cha steps, casually dap guys and foxy girls in tight skirts; and tho the guys were not really hoods, they’d hang with future felons down the poolroom sometimes, and push a little weed to the hipper highschoolers, who whispered that these guys rolled queers in the Village for bucks and kicks…. but the big kick for the Mamboniks was the Latin Kick, hitting the Palladium at least once a week to hobnob with Ricans and Cubans and dap Harlem dudes and debs, all dressed up in continental suits and cocktail gowns, moving & grooving to the hot, blaring rhythms of Tito Puente and Tito Rodriguez, Eddie Palmieri, Joe Cuba, Orquesta Aragon, the La Playa Sextet, and many more smokin’ outfits who played en clave. Rest of the time they hung outside the cafeteria almost
under the BMT El, hanging on the Hiway but vibing they were too hip for the Hiway, still living at home in Brooklyn only ’cause it was free, but definitely on the way out and on up – or so it appeared to those a few years younger, hung up in mundane Midwood and Madison scenes. I didn’t really know the Mamboniks, but I knew who they were (the distance between 15 and 18 being even greater than between the Hiway and Broadway): one of them would fall with the felons and do time… another would marry his little sexpot cha-cha partner and go into the restaurant business downtown… yet another would become a musician/dope dealer, accent on the dope dealer. I only glimpsed these Mamboniks passing by Dubrow’s, but they called me (while ignoring me) to a more magical city than the one I knew as yet.

Tito Puente performing Latin music — Tito Puente performing ”Oye Como Va”

Jose de la Subway Speaks of Working the Mountains

There’s one or two agents book all the bands, and you best not get on their bad side! This guy I know from El Barrio, he plays timbales – he’s no Puente but he’s still young – he pulled me into this gig, subbing for the guy who was too fucked up on duji to make the job. We all meet at the bus terminal near the Dixie Hotel on the Deuce. Takes a couple hours to get up there and it’s real country, you can smell the trees! There’s these big Jewish hotels, they all book one Latin band to alternate with whatever square Pop band they got, and of course the biggest hotels get the big name bands and the smaller hotels get the cheaper bands who sometime hire kids just breaking in who look eighteen and can play some but don’t expect no union scale. You got this shack full of bunk beds to crash in, you eat leftover childrens’ meals – if there’s a hip Rican or Soul working in the kitchen you may get extras – and they don’t want to see your face around the place till showtime. Maybe they let you take a rowboat out on the lake, but you best stay away from the pool till you’re sent out there to play a cocktail set. They always call it an ‘Olympic-sized pool’ even if it’s four foot
deep! All these white chicks are out there in bikinis trying to get as dark as the people they don’t want in the pool with them. You play some cha-chas poolside late in the afternoon and you get to check out these chicks, some of them are hot, some give you the eye, but you wear shades and keep a stone face, and of course you’re high ’cause everybody be smokin’ weed in the band, that’s all you do, and you keep the job by keeping your distance from the hotel’s clientele. Some hustling bands be doubling, tearing around those mountain roads from one little hotel to another, making two jobs a night, wearing those ridiculous rhumba shirts with the big ruffled sleeves. After the last set everybody goes to eat and hang at Corey’s Chinese Restaurant in Liberty. When it’s Mambo Night at the Raleigh you sit in. And if you fuck up, or when the contract’s over, you’re back on the Hound to the Deuce, and you don’t have much loot to show for it. You’re paying your dues, you’re getting experience.

Musically, the late ’50s/early ’60s were dynamic times in NYC. Monk with Trane at the Five Spot, Ornette Coleman introducing “the new thing” aka “Free Jazz,” the hard-bop funk of “Moanin’” by Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, “Kind of Blue” by Miles, Trane’s classic quartet coming into its own with “Giant Steps” and “My Favorite Things.” And the Folk boomlet peaking in the Village
with Baez and Dylan, Paxton, Van Ronk, Ochs, and many more. R&B was in a slump and the Top 40 sucked bigtime… but over in Brooklyn and the Bronx, a new generation of Nuyoricans was coming of age, and tho they still dug the Afro-Cuban sounds, the mambo and the cha-cha-cha belonged to the (recent) past, so they were experimenting: Bronx Pachanga was revved-up charanga… trombones lent a harder edge to a conjunto like Eddie Palmieri’s La Perfecta… and “Latin Soul” was Doowop (a big influence en la calle) mated with the bolero feel and the bongo/congas beat. Joe Cuba knew he was onto something when his “To Be With You” (a bolero in English) became a street fave circa ’62/’63. Ace Cuban conguero Mongo Santamaria had a crossover hit of sorts with a jazzy horn chart on “Watermelon Man.” And Ray Barretto charted nationally with a speeded-up charanga featuring a streetwise Spanish rap superimposed: “El Watusi.” The times they were a-changin’ in the barrio. Joe Bataan was “Singin’ Some Soul.” Willie Colon was getting “Jazzy.” Eddie Palmieri’s hot, eight-minute jam on “Azucar Pa’ Ti” was a breakthru, played in its entirety on the radio by Symphony Sid and even by Dick Ricardo Sugar. Pete Rodriguez came on strong with the irresistible “I Like It Like That”… and the Latin Bugalu was a mid-’60s sub-genre (e.g. Johnny Colon’s “Boogaloo Blues”). But by the early ’70s, the newly branded “Salsa” hyped by Fania Records (the Latin Motown) prevailed, and Latin Soul’s swan songs were sung by Ralfi Pagan (“Make It With You”), and Paul Ortiz (“Tender Love & Sweet Caresses,” produced by “Subway Joe” Bataan). Musical artifacts remain, but as for the vibe, “You hadda be there, folks!”

That Latin Thing

The Afro-Cuban sounds, and the extensions and variations on those templates by their New York inheritors, were the hottest and coolest Latin sounds. Musicians have big ears, and there was always cross-fertilization between the seemingly segregated genres of Latin and Jazz (eventually producing – wait for it – Latin Jazz). So why aren’t more jazz buffs, and other musically savvy civilians, into the rich “Spanish Tinge” heritage? (They’ve always been into it in their own way down in Norlins.) Different languages as well as divergent styles, plus the commercial priorities of bottom-line execs who package musical product, perpetuate musically exclusive marketing niches, even unto today. But many stateside Jazz greats especially groovitated towards the Latin
thing. Dizzy Gillespie with Chano Pozo creating Cubop… Charlie Parker’s jams with Machito… Cal Tjader with Eddie Palmieri… Herbie Hancock’s “Watermelon Man” definitively rendered by Mongo Santamaria: these are some of the finest fruits of the Jazz + Latin marriages, and there have been many more in recent years. Yet the hardcore tipico and original classics are still all but unknown to generations of US Americans, and that’s a lowdown dirty shame.

Tio Jonny to the rescue! If you dig rhythms that won’t let you sit or stand still, or love to love a great love song, I’ve got two Latin strains to introduce into your musical bloodstream: superlative slow jams of yearning, ecstasy, betrayal, and loss in the best bittersweet boleros… and hip-shaking, toe-tapping dance classics of musica caliente. Maestro Cachao wasn’t just boasting when he titled one of his signature jam sessions in miniature “Como mi ritmo no hay dos.” There’s nothing quite like this Latin thing. But don’t take my word for it. Go check it out for yourselves, sis & bro!

Joe Bataan singing Latin music — Joe Bataan singing ‘ ‘Gypsy Woman” some years ago

Musica Caliente 101

Salsa dura? Salsa Brava? Salsa romantica? Such consumer designations are so much caca de toro. To quote el rey Tito Puente, “Salsa is something you put on your food.” As a brand, “Salsa” moved a lot of units for Fania and other smaller labels in their heyday. But it was still music with Afro-Cuban roots, refined (or, purists might aver, debased) by Puerto Ricans and Nuyoricans, as insiders and aficionados well know. It was a music all about rhythm (we’ll consider the beautiful boleros shortly), pegged to the clave beat, where the Afro drums could sing melodiously while the Euro piano, violins, and horns remade themselves into rhythm instruments ( the repetitive, tension-building keyboard montunos, twin charanga fiddles, or twin trombones).

As the music morphed from Havana to New York, it got faster and louder (como no?), but the rhythms certainly didn’t cool down, tho they could sound hot and cool at the same time when vibes were featured, as in the ’50s party classic “Chop Suey Mambo” by Alfredito (Al Levy) or on many jams by T.P., Joe Cuba, or Latin-converso Cal Tjader. Anyone who felt this music in their bodies and souls (which are most definitely not separated in this art) would know this was musica caliente – and, as Ray Barretto titled one of his best workouts: “Que Viva la Musica.”

Say you’ve heard some of the great old school sounds and want to hear more? Tio Jonito is going to start you off with a sampler of the best (or at least some of my favorites) from the great days of this musica caliente, sometime in the late ’40s on into the ’70s. You go online and find these smokers on my list and you’ll not only get a little musical education but you’ll swing your butt off and have a ball. Vaya!

Orq. Casino de la Playa w/Miguelito Valdes: “Bruca Manigua”
Arsenio Rodriguez Orq.: “Dame un Cachito pa’ Huele”
Machito & his Afro-Cubans: “Tanga”
Chano Pozo: “El Pin-Pin” (nice later version by El Gran Combo)
Los Astros: “Que Lindo Yambu”
Arcano y sus Maravillas: “Rico Melao”
Sonora Matancera w/Celia Cruz: “Caramelos”
Sexteto La Playa: “Jamaiquino”
Randy Carlos: “Smoke” (“Humo”)
Fajardo y sus Estrellas: “Ay! Que Frio” (+ jazzy ’70s cover by Ocho)
Cortijo y su Combo w/Ismael Rivera: “El Negro Bembon”
Orquesta Aragon: “Caimitillo y Maranon”
Cachao y su Ritmo: “Malanga Amarillo”
Chappotin y sus Estrellas w/Miguelito Cuni: “Alto Songo”
Mongo Santamaria: “Afro Blue” “Para Ti”
Mongo Santamaria w/La Lupe: “Canta Bajo”
Tito Puente: “Oye Como Va” “Ran Kan Kan”
Eddie Palmieri & Cal Tjader: “Picadillo”
Tito Rodriguez & Orq.: “Mama Guela” “Ave Maria Morena”
Joe Cuba Sextet w/Cheo Feliciano: “El Raton”

Mon Rivera: “Lluvia con Nieve”
Orquesta Broadway: “Como Camino Maria”
Ray Barretto: “Cocinando”
Pete “Conde” Rodriguez w/Johnny Pacheco Orq.: “Azuquita Mami”
Willie Colon Orq. w/Hector LaVoe: “Abuelita”
Eddie Palmieri w/Charlie Palmieri: “Vamanos pa’l Monte”

Pete, Celiz, and Tito performing Latin music — Pete El Conde Rodríguez, Tito Puente, and Celiz Cruz performing ”Qué Bueno Baila Usted”

Boleros 101

Boleros are Latin love songs, and the best are equal to any operatic aria, Broadway show-stopper, or Pop ballad, especially those written and sung from the 1940s through the ’60s, the era of the bolero. Behind even the slowest bolero there’s a rhythmic roll (maintained by bongos, congas, or light timbales taps), analogous to the roll of “r” in spoken Spanish. Can’t abide musica romantica? The bolero, friend, is not for you. Latin America – notably Cuba, Mexico, and Puerto Rico – turned out great boleristas in the epica de oro, and the tunes they sang were world-class, true standards which sound just as strong today as ayer. But leave me not wax rapturous; rather let me share some of my fave boleros with you, and point you YouTubeward to hear them all.

Beny More: “Como Fue” “Hoy Como Ayer”
Olga Guillot: “Mienteme” “Tu Me Acostumbraste”
Trio Los Panchos: “Nosotros” “Sabor a Mi” “Los Dos”
Vicentico Valdes: “Tus Ojos” “La Montana”
Tito Rodriguez: “Inolvidable” “En La Soledad”
Los Tres Ases: “Delirio” “Estoy Perdido” “El Reloj”
Cheo Feliciano (w/Joe Cuba sextet): “Como Rien” “Incomparable”
La Lupe w/Tito Puente Orq.: “Que te Pedi”

Santos Colon w/Tito Puente Orq.: “Ay Carino”
Armando Manzanero: “Mia”
Los Tres Diamantes: “La Gloria eres Tu”
Javier Solis: “Si Te Olvides (La Mentira)”
Los Tres Caballeros: “La Barca” “Regalame Esta Noche”
Los Tres Reyes: “No Me Queda Mas”
Pedro Infante: “Contigo en la Distancia” “No Me Platiques Mas”
Jacaranda Castillon: “La Gata Bajo La Lluvia”

Toña La Negra The Unequaled Velvet Voice of Tropical Song

On November 19, 1982, in Mexico City, Antonia del Carmen Peregrino Álvarez, better known as “Toña La

Toña la Negra, passed away. She was a prominent Mexican singer and actress of African descent, famous for her interpretations of boleros and tropical songs by the composer Agustín Lara, who considered her “the greatest female singer of all time” due to her “highly personal style,” “the power of her expression, and the velvet of her privileged throat.”

Toña La Negra The Unequaled Velvet Voice of Tropical Song

Antonia Peregrino was born in the city of Veracruz, in the La Huaca neighborhood, on November 2, 1912.

Her father, Don Timoteo Peregrino Reyes, played the guitar and worked as a freight opener for the crates arriving at the port; he was also one of the founders of the Veracruz Port Commercial Loaders and Openers Guild.

Her mother, Doña Daría Álvarez Campos, sang at family gatherings.

Her paternal grandfather, Don Severo Peregrino, was Haitian and had emigrated to Mexico in the 19th century.

By 1927, she had married Guillermo Cházaro Ahumada, who took her to Mexico City with their first child, who was only forty days old.

On July 16, 1929, she debuted at the cabaret El Retiro. While performing there, where she was known as La Peregrina, she met Don Emilio Azcárraga Vidaurreta. It was Azcárraga, along with Enrique Contel, who christened her “Toña La Negra.”

On November 19, 1982, in Mexico City, Antonia del Carmen Peregrino Álvarez, better known as “Toña La Negra”, passed away.

She began to gain recognition with her interpretation of the song “Enamorada” (In Love) by Agustín Lara. Lara also produced tracks for her such as “Lamento Jarocho,” “Veracruz,” “Noche Criolla” (Creole Night), “Oración Caribe” (Caribbean Prayer), “Palmera” (Palm Tree), “La Clave Azul” (The Blue Key), and “La Cumbancha.” They presented these together in a musical revue at the Teatro Esperanza in December 1932, achieving such success that they had to extend their performances for a long time.

Her voice tone was rather deep, with a velvety and rounded sound, and impeccable vocal techniquecharacteristics that became her interpretive signature.

Azcárraga added her to the cast of the XEW radio station, where she sometimes performed accompanied by Lara and other times by the Alfredo Girón orchestra.

Shortly thereafter, her spectacular performances began at the Teatro Politeama, across from Las Vizcaínas and next to San Juan de Letrán street.

Her recordings for the RCA Victor label constitute one of the most precious musical legacies in the history of the bolero.

One of the first records she cut for this label contained the song «El Cacahuatero» (The Peanut Vendor); this recording dates back to the 1930s. For RCA Victor, she recorded several long-play albums, including Caleidoscopio musical con Toña la Negra (Musical Kaleidoscope with Toña la Negra), Noche Criolla, vol. II, and La Sensación Jarocha, vol. III (The Jarocha Sensation, vol. III).

In the mid-sixties, she signed an exclusive contract with Discos Orfeón, where she recorded the last albums of her career.

“Este amor salvaje” (This Wild Love), “Por qué negar” (Why Deny It), “Obsesión,” “Mentiras tuyas” (Your Lies), “Y sin embargo te quiero” (And Yet I Love You), “Noche criolla,” “Pesar” (Grief), “Vereda tropical” (Tropical Path), “Cada noche un amor” (A Love Every Night), “Angelitos negros” (Little Black Angels), “Lágrimas de sangre” (Tears of Blood), “Estás equivocado” (You Are Wrong), “De mujer a mujer” (From Woman to Woman), “Como golondrinas” (Like Swallows), “Diez años” (Ten Years), and “Cenizas” (Ashes) are some of her successful titles recorded on over 75 LP records, some of them for the Peerless label. Already famous for many years, she recorded two songs with the legendary Sonora Matancera in 1974.

In her final years, due to some health issues, she gradually withdrew from the stage and recording.

Toña La Negra always maintained a very reserved personal life. With her first husband, the musician Guillermo Cházaro Ahumada, she had three children: Ramón (b. 1932), Guillermo (b. 1933), and Ernesto (1935–1979). Toña and Cházaro Ahumada separated in 1945.

Later, in 1955, she remarried the Veracruz-born bassist Víctor Ruiz Pazos, known as “Vitillo.” This marriage lasted until 1963. In an interview, Ruiz Pazos spoke about Toña’s artistic qualities:

Her commitment, her feeling when she sang, her style, the way she did it, how she expressed things musically; I have lived a long time, I have heard many fabulous singers, but none of them come close to Doña Toña.

The German filmmaker Christian Baudissin made a documentary about Toña La Negra for television in 1993, featuring interviews with her ex-husband, the musician Vitillo (Víctor Ruiz Pazos), and other artists who knew her during her lifetime.

Collaborators:

Los Mejores Salseros del Mundo

Dj. Augusto Felibertt

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