It's All About the Piano

I'm doing a lot of trying to write when it comes to this blog. Lots of draft saving. Partially it's because I've not talked about my project, and I'm finding it difficult to always provide definitions when I just want to write. So here's a rundown of what I'm doing here, with explanations/translations of spanish words which are essential. I'm intentionally trying to keep it simple, but welcome questions, comments and of course, derogatory remarks.

So if all goes well, this project will earn me the title of "Dr." Sutton. Right now all I need to do is to write a paper; a paper about Uruguayan candombe drumming. But to do that, I had to come to Uruguay. The only reason I actually made it was because I received a Fulbright award. Probably the greatest academic accomplishment of my life, and in general, it's awesome.

So what is candombe? In Uruguay, it's music, dance, and a way of life. Just google it and you'll see it's all of those things and more. That however makes it difficult to discuss, which is why over the last month, I've started to shy away from using the term in favor of Llamadas. This translates to "calls," and in Uruguay refers specifically to the "call of the drums." Quite often you hear the specific rhythms refered to as Cuareim or Ansina. These are names linked to what are often referred to as the "historically black" neighborhoods of Montevideo: Barrio Sur ("Cuareim") and Palermo ("Ansina").

The drumming group that performs this music is called a cuerda, which literally means "a string" of drums. There are three sizes that form an ensemble. The smallest is the chico, and is the foundation; it's rhythm is similar regardless of neighborhood style. The largest drum, and the primary focus of this project is the piano; its rhythm identifies a neighborhood, or a particular cuerda. Then there is the repique, which is smaller than the piano and larger than the chico. This drum is primarily improvisatory, and often signals significant moments, such as the end of a performance.

Medio Mundo (photo:
Alvaro Sanjurjo Toucon)

When I started this investigation in 2009, there wasn't a lot of information available, especially on the drumming. But in 2010 all of that started to change, especially audio/video content online. I wonder now if I would have pursued this project if I had learned of candombe even a year later. A lot of my initial questions were mainly about what's on the surface of things. But I'm glad things happened the way they did, because it is amazing to experience this music on a much deeper level.

Anyway, from here on out I may be referring to these neighborhood styles, and I want any reader to have some knowledge of what they sound like. The following videos were recorded a few weeks ago, and each shows a demonstration of each historic neighborhood's base piano pattern, a performance by three drums in that style, and ending with a full cuerda performance. The demonstrations were from a presentation at a music conference I attended a few weeks ago, and the comparsa performances from the Llamadas del Patrimonio. I'm currently writing about these two events in another post, so won't say more now.

First is the rhythm of Cuareim, performed by members of C-1080. This groups name represents the street address of Medio Mundo, a historic conventillo ("housing project") in Barrio Sur, considered a birthplace of candombe.

I'm trying to present as much variety as possible, so here are two other great videos demonstrating the style. Both feature two of my favorite piano players: Diego Paredes in the first video, and Pablo "Paquito" Silva in the second.



  

 

Ansina conventillos
were demolished.

Next is the rhythm of the Ansina, performed by members of Sinfonia de Ansina. If you've watched the other videos, you'll recognize Diego Paredes on piano. Also take note of the excitement of the crowd in the last part of the video. I was filming in the Palermo neighborhood, about a block and a half from the location of the Ansina conventillos.

The second of these Ansina videos features master tamborilero José "Perico" Gularte, who is also playing with Sinfonia de Ansina in the video above.

During the presentation of rhythms at the conference, they included the Gaboto conventillo, located in the Cordón neighborhood. Aside from the conference and the parade, I haven't had an opportunity to speak with musicians from Cordón, though I hope that changes soon. Scholars such as Luis Ferreira often categorize this pattern as a variant of Ansina, saying it is "more rapid...more variable and not as sustained...." (Los tambores del candombe, 131). However, in Ayer y hoy: Afrouruguayos y tradición oral, Mónica Olaza includes an interview with Tomás (only first names are provided), who states: "the other important nucleus was the conventillo on the street Gaboto, with a distinct rhythm, between Ansina and Cuareim" (70). In the video from the conference, it was inspiring to see Aquiles Pintos take part in the demonstrations.

Thus concludes the lesson. And since I hear a cuerda, perfect timing.

A Little Catching Up

Going to try and catch this blog up with things I've wanted to share from Montevideo. What better way to start than with music. Back on September 29th, I attended a show at Sala Zitarrosa. The theme was "candombe-fusion" from the group Tucuta Nyanzá. However, the highlight for me was the mid-show performance by Berta Pereira and Pollo Píriz. You may have to turn the volume up; I'm still getting to know my little camcorder.

El piano de Ansina tiene mi corazón...

Today was the first of a conference I'm attending in Montevideo The theme: "Music between Africa and the Americas." The final event this evening was a discussion of the three traditional toques (rhythms) associated with city's historic neighborhoods.

But I'm posting a video tonight, and that's all folks. It's from the conference. A few of the drummers playing were from the group in the first video I posted from Uruguay. The lowest drum of that cuerda, called piano, it takes hold. It has my heart when it speaks.

 I plan to write more on the conference in the coming week, but tonight I'm tired. For those of you who watch and listen, I hope you're able to experience just a little of la fuerza del tambor.

Every Mass Needs Drums!

Monday night I was told to show up to Mundo Afro at 7:30pm for a choir rehearsal. So I did, and to my surprise it was a rehearsal for Misa candombe by Gilberto Silva. This is unfortunately a piece that doesn't get performed much, but luckily I took my video camera along, and here's some highlights from the first movement. I apologize for the cuts, but keep in mind it was a rehearsal. Hopefully I'll have an opportunity over the next week to edit the other movements. Enjoy!



Productivity is often DULL

I realize I'm horrible at blogging. When it comes to sitting down and writing, I want each entry to be engaging in some way. Aside from the robbery a week ago, I've established routines that just aren't that exciting; or at least I don't believe they're exciting to read about. I'll also admit, I'm more careful about where I go alone; lesson learned.

Eventful for me in the last week was establishing an account with the library system through the Universidad de la República. Now I can read all those books I couldn't get in the states from the discomfort of my tiny apartment, instead of the discomfort of the Biblioteca Nacional. I say discomfort because I've yet to meet a really great chair in Montevideo.

The favorite part of my week is drumming on Tuesdays and Thursdays with the Taller de Percusión at Club Huracán Buceo. "Taller" roughly translates to "workshop." Last Saturday, I did get to play my first show, all dressed up in la ropa de candombe, but despite giving my business card out, haven't received any photos of the event. This is pretty much what I looked like (minus the facepaint and with green trim on the hat):

But mostly a week consists of research, and with library access, it's been super productive. There's also a lot of re-evaluating work I did in Miami, now that I have a sense of Montevideo. Today did differ a little, as I looked at ethnomusicology jobs and pondered my chances. It's not having a job to return to that makes April feel really close.

You can wake up now.

As the weather warms, there will be more drumming. November is when things really get going, and it will stay insane through Carnival, which means until the end of March. Uruguay celebrates the longest Carnival in the world. And!... I should be getting another camera in the next couple of weeks (Thanks Travis Tipton), and hopefully the ability to take pictures will inspire me to write more.

Under the Smiling Bust of Carlos Gardel (sin fedora)

First, sorry for the lack of photos, somewhere there are some excellent ones if they haven't been deleted. Second, for those of you wondering about the title: Carlos Gardel is one of the great singers and symbols of tango. His song, "Por una cabeza," is one of those pieces of music you know, even if you don't know you know. Today I visited the Barrio Sur, specifically calle Carlos Gardel.

Plaza Carlos Gardel

In 2008, Anthony Bourdain released an episode of No Reservations filmed in Uruguay. He closed the program featuring candombe, in particular the cuerda (drummers) of C-1080, whose name references the address of the demolished conventillo (housing complex) Medio Mundo, considered one of the important centers of Afro-Uruguayan culture and a birthplace of candombe. Bourdain's segment shows him enjoying chorizo and a local alchoholic beverage while watching the party. More generically, it shows a vision of a friendly neighborhood, united by the drum. His closing words for the scene: "You can walk anywhere you want. We could've just wandered in here without a film crew, without anyone, and had much the same experience I think...and it just happened cause we let it."

After today, I recognize the place Bourdain had his uniquely Uruguayan experience. Very close to Plaza Carlos Gardel, at the intersection of calle Carlos Gardel and Curuguaty. I'm also sure that Anthony and his hermano were there on a Sunday, and I'm writing this after my experience on a Tuesday. However, I think I can honestly let Mr. Bourdain know that it wouldn't have been the same experience without his film crew, or without anyone. Everyday in Barrio Sur is not a party, as was the case today, when I was robbed of my cash and camera under the smiling bust of Carlos Gardel, who without his trademark fedora, has probably witnessed this same scene far too many times. The three boys showed great pride and were all too happy to talk with me about their ability to play candombe, before questioning me about my interest in drugs (marijuana and cocaina to be exact), and finishing with "money o problema." He actually had to say this three times because with his rough, Uruguayan accent, I failed to understand "money," and once I did I responded: "Ahhh, dinero...claro. Un momento."

Now, if anyone's worried, I'm fine. I was aware of Montevideo's problem with petty street theft, and being the gringo that I am, expected to be robbed at some point. This is something that happens to the locals. I was a bit surprised it happened where it did, as Plaza Carlos Gardel is also the location of the Asociación Cultural C-1080. I was perhaps naive to think it would offer a certain amount of safety, since this is the first "specific objective" listed on their website: "Offer a permanent alternative to young people, who live near the heart of the city and are constantly tempted by drugs." On this day, the alternative was a central place to get some easy money for drugs.

Oh, and Anthony Bourdain (or Travel Channel), if you're reading, I'd like to borrow your film crew.

A month in...

So two weeks have passed. I feel like things slowed dramatically once I found a place to live. A lot of simple things I've taken for granted were suddenly difficult. Finding a supermarket being number one on the list. But things are good now, as I seem to have found my "go to" places.

That being said, here's some highlights:

Aug. 19: First trip to Mundo Afro. Thought I was going to drum, but didn't. Instead, I did a lot of reading, and was surprised when George Reid Andrews walked in. He wrote this book:

Dr. Andrews was in town for the release of the spanish translation of his book, and I was invited to a gathering at a local bookstore that night. This has turned out to be one of the best things to happen so far, and though I didn't have much opportunity to speak with Reid Andrews, I did have an opportunity to meet and exchange cards with several people who have been a huge help with additional introductions to Uruguayan scholars. I was pretty nerdy, and had Dr. Andrews sign my book. As many of Andrews' works have influenced this project, I'll admit, when he walked in to Mundo Afro, it was kind of like (insert favorite rock star) walked through the door.

Aug. 22: Met the other Fulbrighters. This was mainly a comforting experience, as I learned they all had equally difficult experiences with finding housing and acclimating to Uruguay. I also returned to Mundo Afro, and finally got to sit down with Alvaro Salas, struggle through an interview, and then see some drumming. I can honestly say that I had no idea what was going on, and when I watch the video, I still don't. And this isn't necessarily a language problem, because I'm also lost just watching the drumming.

Aug. 23: Returned to Mundo Afro that morning, thinking I was going to attend a class for school kids. That didn't happen. Waited around, talked with Alvaro until being told to go get in a car that included two other drummers and two dancers. This was not a big car, and also contained three drums. We were "literally" sardines. I just want to add here that I hate riding in cars or taxis in Montevideo...tengo miedo. Love the bus, but not cars. I fear for my life, though I've seen far fewer accidents than in Miami, or even Spartanburg, SC. But anyway, we headed to a MERCOSUR event being held downtown. I had no idea why I was there, but basically hung out for two hours, and videotaped a couple of short performances. The video isn't great, but here's a photo:

Since that time I've regularly started attending candombe workshops in Buceo, so I'm drumming at least two nights a week now. Danielle Brown, one of the other Fulbrighters here, introduced me to "Chupete" Gomez, who builds drums and teaches drumming at Tamborilearte. I can't say enough how great it is to finally be drumming. As for posting a lot of video, it's been requested by the members of Club Buceo that I not do that, and I wasn't given permission to video my first lesson at Tamborilearte. As for pictures, it's difficult to take those when drumming, so if anyone wants to visit and be my candombe groupie, I'd love to have you. However, I'm including a couple of shots of the group in Buceo.

Santi: when he could "focus up," he'd
play the hell out of the drum.

Finally, this month is all about improving my spanish. The goal is to be able to have a conversation on the phone. This is difficult, because I have trouble on the phone in English. It's the 20+ years of playing drums and rarely using ear protection. I notice improvement everyday, but as soon as I'm on the phone, you'd think I didn't know any spanish. With that being said, it's possible I've burned a couple of bridges, mostly with scholars. The candomberos seem much more laid back, and comment on my improving español uruguayo. But with everyone here, I plan on being obnoxiously persistent, and hopefully it's appreciated in the end.