Carlos Varela is one of the best-known singer-songwriters to emerge from the Cuban nueva trova movement: heir to the musical traditions forged by Silvio Rodríguez and Pablo Milanés. Parochially, if accurately, known in North America as “Cuba’s Bob Dylan,” he has produced eight CDs since he began recording in 1988 and has toured Europe, the United Kingdom, Latin America, the Caribbean, and North America. In Cuba he is known as the voice of the generation that came of age during the Special Period of the 1990s, those raised with the promise and seeming collapse of the Cuban Revolution, for whom his songs have become generational anthems. In this interview, Varela discusses the meaning his music has for Cubans in the diaspora and on the island, the benefits and liabilities of creating music in today’s Cuba, censorship, history, the current Cuban hip-hop scene, and the ongoing significance of music as a political language for his own and other generations of Cubans. He also shares some reflections about his own career and his song-writing process since the 1980s., unedited non–English abstract received by RILM] Carlos Varela es uno de los cantautores más famosos surgido del movimiento cubano de la nueva trova, y heredero de la tradición musical de Silvio Rodríguez y Pablo Milanés. Celebrado como el “Bob Dylan cubano”, ha producido ocho discos desde que comenzó a grabar en 1988, y ha dado giras por Europa, el Reino Unido, América Latina, el Caribe y América del Norte. En Cuba, Varela es conocido como la voz de la generación que se formó durante el Período Especial de los años noventa, los que crecieron con la promesa y, a la vez, la desilusión de la Revolución Cubana, y para quienes sus canciones se convirtieron en himnos generacionales. En esta entrevista, habla sobre el significado de sus canciones para los cubanos dentro y fuera de la isla, sobre los beneficios y las dificultades de la creación musical en la Cuba de hoy, sobre la censura, la historia, el escenario actual del hip-hop cubano, y el constante significado de la música como lenguaje político, tanto para su generación como para las otras generaciones de cubanos. También, Varela comparte algunas reflexiones sobre su carrera y el proceso de creación de sus canciones desde los años ochenta.
Located in the eastern Brazilian Amazon roughly three hours by boat from the open Atlantic, the port city of Belém do Pará has been an important point of convergence for transnational flows of commodities, people, and culture, including a vast array of up-tempo Caribbean dance genres known locally as lambada. Since the late twentieth century, inhabitants of Belém and surrounding areas have sought to make a virtue of their liminal position between the hegemonic centers of southeastern Brazil and the circum-Caribbean. This article shows how musicians, dancers, listeners, and culture brokers draw on the local history of Caribbean cosmopolitan musicality to articulate an alternative Amazonian regional identity, one characterized by connectedness and proximity to their Caribbean neighbors rather than by isolation and provincialism. In so doing, the article contributes to the remapping of the cultural contours of Brazil, the Caribbean, the Amazon, and Latin America.
Focuses on interrelations between popular music genres in the Spanish Caribbean exemplifying the Dominican Republic. The genre son has been the source of ideological conflicts for the middle and upper classes, particularly for Dominican musicians and intellectuals. The most urgent inquiry is about the local origin of the so considered primary authentic work, the “Son de la Ma’ Teodora'. Analyzing both historiographic and oral sources, the significance and the symbolic value of the musical genre son in the national history and context are discussed., unedited non–English abstract received by RILM] En este artículo se discuten las interrelaciones entre géneros musicales populares en el Caribe Hispánico tal y como aparecen en la República Dominicana. El género son ha sido fuente de conflictos ideológicos entre las clases media y alta dominicana, así como entre músicos e intelectuales. El asunto más polémico en este sentido gira alrededor del origen local de la así considerada primera obra documentada, el “Son de La Ma’ Teodora”. Haciendo uso de diferentes fuentes historiográficas y orales se discute el significado y valor simbólico del género musical son en relación a la historia nacional dominicana.
This study investigates the importance of the bullroarer cult in Cuban orisha worship. Though the cult was one of the most feared collectives of precolonial Yorubaland, carrying out the executions of criminals and witches on behalf of the state councils, the cult that came to be recreated in Cuba after the transatlantic separation took on a quality that was more devotional, though equally secretive. Given that so much change has occurred among the bullroarer cults in Cuba and Yorubaland since the termination of the slave trade, the conspicuous links between the two cults have all but disappeared. However, by lending particular attention to the bullroarer and other accouterments of the cult in Cuba, links can be re-established that explain the persistence of the cult in Cuba and demonstrate the ways in which ironically this emblematic sounding instrument of the cult is often constructed in a manner that actually mutes the instrument., [unedited non–English abstract received by RILM] Este estudio es una investigación sobre la importancia del culto “zumbador” (xiloaerófono) en la religión oricha en Cuba. Aunque el culto fue una de las colectivas precoloniales más temidas del mundo Yoruba, asesinando a criminales y brujas a nombre de los consejos del estado, después de la separación transatlántica la recreación del culto en Cuba asumió un carácter más devocional. Dado a la magnitud de los cambios ocurridos entre los cultos zumbadores en Cuba y en la tierra Yoruba desde que finalizó la esclavitud, los vínculos obvios entre los dos cultos prácticamente han desaparecido. Sin embargo, se puede argumentar que, al prestar atención particular al zumbador y a otros objetos del culto en Cuba, es posible establecer vínculos que explican la persistencia del culto en Cuba y demuestran como este instrumento icónico del culto, irónicamente, ha sido construido muchas veces de una manera que deja al instrumento “mudo.”
