By Geoffrey Himes
Special to The Washington Post
Friday, April 2, 1999; Page N08
For most of the past 40 years, U.S. citizens have been unable to enjoy the talents of Cubans such asContreras and Alemany. Whether one blames the U.S. or Cuban government -- or both -- for this state of affairs, the loss seems all the more acute now that we know what we were deprived of. In recent years, the wall between the two countries has become more porous, even if it still stands, and Americans may feel they're finally catching up on four decades of lost history. That can be misleading.
Despite the prevalence of 1950s American cars on the streets of Havana, time hasn't stood still in Cuba. Linares is not the same ballplayer he was in his prime in the early '90s, and popular Cuban music doesn't sound the same in the '90s as it did in the '70s or '80s. In fact, young Cuban musicians in bands such as Los Van Van and NG La Banda have so eagerly embraced amplification and international influences that they have radically changed Cuban music from what it was just 10 years ago. How will we ever know what Cuban music really sounded like in the '60s, '70s and '80s?
Alemany formed Cubanismo to answer just that question. The all-acoustic ensemble is dedicated to preserving the older rhythms of Cuban music -- the son montuno, cha-cha-cha, pilon, guaracha, abacua, descarga, chagui, mozambique, pa'ca, conjunto, danzon and mambo. When the 14-piece group comes to the Barns of Wolf Trap on Wednesday, it will play examples of all these styles.
"It's important to preserve the roots, the original flavor of the music," Alemany argues. "These old rhythms are the essence of our music, and the music is the essence of our culture. That's why we call our orchestra Cubanismo, because it's distinctively, essentially Cuban.
"I'm not denying the modern music," he's quick to add. "I'm not saying it's not Cuban. It's made in Cuba by Cuban musicians, and it reflects what's happening in the country today. We need both kinds of music, the modern and the traditional. There are so many possibilities, and the music needs to keep growing. But it's important to keep the old music alive alongside the new. We're trying to keep the most important elements alive, so the audience can recognize the different rhythms for each dance. Otherwise, everything will become the same."
Alemany was born in 1962, but even when he was a child the traditional Cuban music was in danger of disappearing. The government music schools emphasized classical music exclusively, and most of the local dance bands had fallen under the spell of Anglo-American rock 'n' roll and Brazilian bossa nova. But there was something about the old son rhythms that appealed to the young trumpeter and he became devoted to Septeto Nacional, one of the few groups still playing the traditional music.
Alemany was only 15 when he joined Sierra Mastre, a fledgling band at the University of Havana, and he convinced them to shift from generic South American music to the specifically Cuban sound of son. They struck a chord in a population eager for something to call its own, and Sierra Mastre was one of the island's biggest attractions by the early '80s.
"This music had almost been forgotten," Alemany recalls. "As in the rest of the world, American pop music had a lot of influence in Cuba, and the radio was full of Spanish versions of rock standards. So Sierra Mastre was a reaction by some young musicians to struggle against the popularity of that foreign music and to create something home-grown."
Because of their supple rhythms and prominent horn parts, Sierra Mastre and Cubanismo have often been described as Cuban jazz. But Alemany insists that both groups play popular dance music with an emphasis on the groove and catchy vocal melodies. And when Cubanismo performed at Wolf Trap's Filene Center last June, the wriggling bodies that filled the aisles and lawn gave ample credence to Alemany's claim.
Alemany loves jazz; he co-founded the Cuban jazz combo Prieto with pianist Gonzalo Rubalcaba and he has long been a big fan of Irakere, Cuba's best known modern-jazz group. One of the most exciting moments in his life, he claims, came in 1979 when Columbia Records sent a delegation of jazz stars, including Weather Report and Woody Shaw, to record in Havana with top Cuban musicians.
That fueled his interest in jazz and other musics from around the world. On a Sierra Mastre tour of Europe, Alemany fell in love with a British woman and eventually married her. He was careful to do everything legally, however, and was able to move to London in 1994 without losing his native passport. Thus, unlike so many expatriate Cuban musicians, he was able to come and go from the island.
In England, he took full advantage of the opportunity to experiment with different kinds of music. He played with the acid-jazz-funk group Incognito, the salsa band La Clave and Jamaican saxophonist Andy Hamilton. But he soon discovered that he was homesick for the Cuban dance music he had grown up with.
While working with Hamilton, Alemany met Joe Boyd, the legendary producer who discovered Fairport Convention and Nick Drake. Boyd was so impressed that he signed Alemany to the Hannibal label and asked the trumpeter to make a traditional Cuban son album with another expatriate musician, Paris-based pianist Alfredo Rodriguez.
"We were Cuban musicians based in Europe," Alemany remembers, "and there weren't too many of us at that time. To put together a Cuban band in Europe at that time was not very easy. So in 1995, I returned to Cuba to find the musicians I needed, the right environment. I wanted to use the studio in Havana, because it had the older very live, open feel I was looking for."
The first Cubanismo album, "Jesus Alemany's Cubanismo," was released in 1996 and immediately became a hit with both worldbeat critics and Latin dancers. It even broke into the top 10 on Billboard's Tropical/Salsa chart. The second album, 1997's "Malembe," was accompanied by the first North American tour by a Cuban big band in 35 years. Now Cubanismo is hitting the road again behind its third album, "Reencarnacion."
"At the end of the day," Alemany concludes, "if you want to keep your culture, to keep your identity, that's more important than where you live. That's the strongest feeling we have inside, to keep that alive despite every distraction. It's something I've got in the bottom of my heart. I'll be bitterly disappointed if something makes me change, but I don't think there's anything in the world that can make me change."
CUBANISMO -- Appearing Wednesday at the Barns of Wolf Trap. * To hear a free Sound Bite from Cubanismo, call Post-Haste at 202/334-9000 and press 8110. (Prince William residents, call 690-4110.)
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