World Music Legends

No one ever expected a tidal wave of mainstream interest in a musical idiom that doesn’t get much airplay on Spanish- or English-language radio. But that was before the 1997 Ry Cooder-produced album Buena Vista Social Club (World Circuit/Nonesuch) rode Billboard magazine’s Latin chart for two years, then broke through to the pop chart after the release of Win Wenders’ documentary film of the same name.

BVSC’s stratospheric journey had a serendipitous beginning. In 1996, the American guitarist Cooder and his son Joaquim landed in Cuba at the urging of World Circuit producer Nick Gold. The original idea was to team up with musicians from Mali and Cuba to explore the Afro-Cuban connection. When the Malians didn’t show up, Cuban producer Juan de Marcos González convinced Cooder to bring together veteran musicians in a classic retrospective.

González, a member of the son revival group Sierra Maestra, knew where to find the players. With the exception of singer Ibrahim Ferrer and pianist Rubén González, both in their 70s, all of them were enjoying productive careers, albeit in a marginal niche. The aura of discovery gave the project the cachet of a media scoop, although the notion that the music had been completely neglected in Cuba is a bit of romantic exaggeration that was propagated by U.S. media coverage.

“Everywhere you go in Santiago de Cuba, you hear little trios or groups playing son,” said Mari Marques, a Cuban-born U.S. citizen who leads cultural tours to Cuba. “The fact is the Cuban government really has done a lot to support traditional music and dance. Young artists may not choose to play the son, but they all know that timba [new-wave Cuban salsa] is rooted in those traditions, and they learned that in the state-run schools.”

“I think Cuban kids are a lot more aware of their folkloric roots than U.S. kids are aware of theirs,” said Jimmy Maslon, whose Ahí-Namá label records both timba bands and acoustic, folk-influenced groups. “Of course, you’re going to hear more pop music on the radio, because that’s how it is everywhere. And it’s true that people still aren’t that aware of the Buena Vista Social Club in Cuba, but that’s because it was an American production.”

Many of the Buena Vista musicians had strong individual careers to begin with, and have since signed contracts with non-Cuban labels. Guitarist Elaides Ochoa and laúd player Barbarito Torres promoted their solo albums; Compay Segundo performed with his sons as Compay y los Amigos before his 2003 death, and Ferrer and González’s tours with musicians from the BVSC sessions sold out in 2000.

But the perceived lack of Cuban appreciation for bolero and son had some basis in reality. “Principally, the youth weren’t thinking about this music; they thought it had disappeared,” declared the impish Ferrer. “They used to jokingly say, ‘Go and play in the cemetery.’ They never thought the old music would make it.”

In the wake of BVSC’s success, record companies scrambled to package more material, hoping to catch the Cuban wave, and industry observers maintained a caution born of experience. Nonesuch vice president David Bither recognized a limit to the market. “The thinking intellectuals will go farther in their exploration of the music,” he said at the peak of the BVSC craze. “But most people are buying the record because they love the story, and something in it touches them. What makes a record like Buena Vista Social Club a success is that it built on the shoulders of what came before.” In a matter-of-fact tone, he added, “I think buyers will eventually move on to something else. They’re captured by the moment.”

Ahí-Namá’s Maslon is more optimistic. “There’s a lot more interest, a lot more touring,” he says. “The problem is there are a lot of people jumping on the bandwagon. Buena Vista had a lot of money behind them. I totally respect Ry Cooder. He’s been humble, but he made the music more popular in the Anglo community when commercial Latin radio pushed it aside. I hope this will mean more attention for all the great music of Cuba—son, trova, timba, all of it.”