If anyone could possibly direct fickle media attention back to the ongoing humanitarian crisis in Puerto Rico, it is Lin-Manuel Miranda. At a time when the situation on the island continues to be dire as too many residents still have no light and have to boil water, Miranda’s presence on the world stage thanks to the success of Hamilton enables him to shine a spotlight into the darkness and lift many from despair. Miranda’s announcement last week that he would be mounting a production of Hamilton in San Juan instantly grabbed headlines, with coverage in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Chicago Tribune, and on broadcast and cable news.
Miranda, a “diasporican” born in New York City and raised in the upper Manhattan neighborhood of Inwood, “spent at least month each year with his grandparents in Vega Alta, Puerto Rico.”
He and his music exemplify not only the deep ancestral, social, and cultural bonds between Puerto Ricans on the island and mainland, but also a Puerto Rican musical heritage that continues to grow, shift, and change with the times. It incorporates salsa, hip-hop, and reggaeton, yet never eschews its roots steeped in Taino ethos, African polyrhythm and call response, entwined with Moorish-Spaniard lyrical balladry. The folk songs of the jibaro, the Afro-Boricua bomba and plena,and the creole danza are all part of the rich Puerto Rican musical inheritance which enhances today’s music.
The music of Puerto Rico and Puerto Ricans is food for the soul of a people, sustaining them through migrations, slavery, harsh poverty, and displacement. It accompanies them through times of joy and bereavement. It sustains them in the same way that African Americans survived brutal enslavement and harsh Jim Crow and supremacist ideologies with music that has carried us through the centuries. Like we have leaned on everything from work songs to gospel, jazz, blues, R&B, and rap and hip-hop, so have our brothers and sisters from Puerto Rico used music as a salve and redemption. As such, after journeys to the mainland, that music has bonded and blended with ours to create new forms.
It should be no surprise that when help was needed for Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands after both Hurricanes Irma and Maria swept through and the piss-poor response from Donald Trump and the U.S. government was far too slow in coming, it was musicians who came to the defense of the island.
Puerto Rican pop stars Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony teamed up with other musical artists for the “One Voice — Somos Live” benefit to raise funds, and their combined efforts have raised $35 million.
As in many previous disaster aid efforts, music was a vehicle to garner attention and gather funds. Miranda’s efforts had the chance to draw in viewers and listeners that may not have been part of the Latin music fanbase, and his decision to create a song derived and inspired by West Side Story lyrics was a brilliant move.
This Billboard video documents the making of the song and video.
When Hurricane Maria devastated the island of Puerto Rico, Hamilton creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda started noticing that his Facebook and Twitter feed were becoming a "roll call of towns," with his friends and family members reaching out to see if anyone had heard from Puerto Ricans towns such as Utuado, Vieques and San Juan. This is when Miranda began realizing that this was the catalyst for what would ultimately become his charity single, "Almost Like Praying."
"I began thinking, 'That's the lyric,'" Miranda says of the list of all 78 towns in the country. "Almost Like Praying" started off as an a capella demo so Miranada could piece together the names of the towns. "It was the mathematics of making these towns rhyme and crossing them off the list when I found a way to artfully put them in a lyric until I reached all 78," he tells Billboard.
The making of the video is also documented in the NBC special “Lin-Manuel Miranda Gives Behind-the-Scenes Look at Making of 'Almost Like Praying.'”
In support of continued Puerto Rico relief and recovery operations, NBC New York aired a special, behind-the-scenes look at the making of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hit single "Almost Like Praying," benefiting the Hispanic Federation’s “UNIDOS” hurricane relief fund.
The artists assembled for the piece are:
Percussion by: Eric Bobo Correa. Vocals Performed by Marc Anthony, Ruben Blades, Camila Cabello, Pedro Capo, Dessa, Gloria Estefan, Fat Joe, Luis Fonsi, Juan Luis Guerra, Alex Lacamoire, John Leguizamo, Jennifer Lopez, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Rita Moreno, Ednita Nazario, Joell Ortiz, Anthony Ramos, Gina Rodriguez, Gilberto Santa Rosa, PJ Sin Suela, Tommy Torres, and Ana Villafañe.
They run the musical gamut from hip-hop and pop to Broadway, latin jazz, salsa, and reggaeton.
The darkness of Maria has shined a light on Puerto Rican musical history. and will have the effect of expanding playlists and hopefully provide a musical introduction and education. Billboard had one:
10 Songs Sending Love to Puerto Rico in Wake of Hurricane Maria
A musical tribute to the island’s beauty and the spirit of its people.
Throughout the years, Puerto Rican artists have continuously paid musical homage to the beauty of their island and the spirit of its people. Those many songs range from composer Rafael Hernández's classic "Lamento Borincano," a story of the economic struggles of the Puerto Rican farmer, to Marc Anthony's emotional interpretation of Hernandez's "Preciosa."
And we can't forget Eddie Palmieri's smoking “Puerto Rico,” which includes the lyrics, "Although I'm very far away, I don't forget you, because you are my treasure. How I love you, my Borinquén (Puerto Rico)."
Other musical benefits have also not only raised money but have awakened musical interest, as noted in this piece by music writer Corbin Reiff:
How Fiesta Latina Used Music To Shift Focus Back To Relief In Puerto Rico
On a warm Saturday evening last week, the citizens of Miami converged en masse on the immense American Airlines Arena, heavy with anticipation. iHeartRadio was hosting its annual Fiesta Latina, and the deck was stacked with a near-who’s who of Latin Pop Music. One of the biggest names in the genres history, Ricky Martin was tasked with opening the show. Luis Fonsi of “Despacito” renown would be there too; so will Yandel, CNCO, Camila Cabela, and Jesse Y Joy. Diplo is also on the lineup for some reason.
I would never claim to be the world’s biggest Latin pop fan. Like many, I grew up dancing to the “Macarena” at junior prom and blasting Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca” in my dad’s car but that’s pretty much as far as it goes for me. Reggaeton however, now that’s a genre I’m quite familiar with. I spent the ages of 19 through 21 living in El Paso, Texas just around the height of Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” fever. You couldn’t hit a club without hearing that track play five times a night minimum. The distinctive boom, da, boom, duh beat is ingrained in my DNA.
So it was with intense interest that I made my way inside the home of the Miami Heat, eager to fully immerse myself in a world I’m wholly unfamiliar with. Oh, did I mention I don’t speak or understand a lick of Spanish? Except for a little onstage banter here and there, for about five hours I remained completely and totally unaware of much of what anyone said or sang about. Regardless of all these limitations, I have to tell you, the experience was thrilling!
“‘Despacito’ and the Revenge of Reggaeton,” in The Atlantic, examines the addition of Justin Beieber to the “reggaeton-pop fusion” super hit.
The last time a song sung primarily in Spanish hit No. 1 on the U.S. pop charts was in 1996, with Los Del Rio’s “Macarena.” Now, that dance-craze-causer has a successor in Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee’s “Despacito,” whose remix featuring Justin Bieber has claimed the top spot on the Hot 100.
Prior to Bieber’s involvement, the song was already a sensation in the Spanish-speaking world, dominating charts after Puerto Rico’s Fonsi released it in January. In the tune, Fonsi’s romantic singing—“despacito” means “slowly,” referring here to the pace of seduction—pairs with rapping from his fellow Puerto Rican Daddy Yankee. Yankee’s name may be familiar to English-speaking audiences from the 2004 smash “Gasolina,” which showcased the distinctive, danceable style known as reggaeton. The reggaeton beat now powers “Despacito,” to which Bieber has contributed vocals in both Spanish and English.
For those of you of a more academic bent who would like to delve deeper into Puerto Rican music and its history, intersections, and influences, your first stop should be the texts of Professor Juan Flores, who died in December 2014, but whose seminal work will live on. A must-read is his collection of essays:
From Bomba to Hip-Hop: Puerto Rican Culture and Latino Identity
Neither immigrants nor ethnics, neither foreign nor "hyphenated Americans" in the usual sense of that term, Puerto Ricans in New York have created a distinct identity both on the island of Puerto Rico and in the cultural landscape of the United States. Juan Flores considers the uniqueness of Puerto Rican culture and identity in relation to that of other Latino groups in the United States—as well as to other minority groups, especially African Americans. Architecture and urban space, literary traditions, musical styles, and cultural movements provide some of the sites and moments of a cultural world defined by the interplay of continuity and transformation, heritage and innovation, roots and fusion. Exploring this wide range of cultural expression—both in the diaspora and in Puerto Rico—Flores highlights the rich complexities and fertile contradictions of Latino identity.
Jeff Browitt writes:
As the title suggests, music is a connecting thread that runs through the whole book. The ten chapters are united by the common theme of Puerto Rican identity and the survival of cultural memory, especially as these are defined or constructed through popular cultural practices among Puerto Ricans in the United States: the bomba y plena musical groups, Puerto Rican rap and hip-hop, community dances, the casita movement, the writing of ‘Nuyorican’ literature and the annual Puerto Rican Day Parade. The different chapters are peppered with snatches of interviews with artists, writers, musicians and intellectuals. Combining sociological insight with Latin music history and a participant-observer's keen eye for complexity and tension, Flores draws a cultural map of Puerto Rico, a ‘national imaginary’, sensitive to the nuances of struggles over identity and representation, both on the island and in the United States itself.
I covered some of the history of bomba in Black Kos, back in September.
Smithsonian Folkways describes bomba:
Bomba dates back to the early European colonial period in Puerto Rico. It comes out of the musical traditions brought by enslaved Africans in the 17th century. To them, bomba music was a source of political and spiritual expression. The lyrics conveyed a sense of anger and sadness about their condition, and songs served as a catalyst for rebellions and uprisings. But bomba also moved them to dance and celebrate, helping them create community and identity. The music evolved through contact between slave populations from different Caribbean colonies and regions, including the Dutch colonies, Cuba, Santo Domingo, and Haití. As a result, bomba now has sixteen different rhythms. The rhythms mark the pace of the singing and dance. Bomba instruments include the subidor or primo (bomba barrel or drum), maracas, and the cuá or fuá, two sticks played against the wood of the barrels or another piece of wood.
This short documentary La Bomba: A Puerto Rican Tool of Resistance Through Creative Expression is in Spanish with English subtitles.
Bomba’s earthy and radical roots stand in stark opposition to the classical formality of danza.
One of the most well-known tunes in the Puerto Rican songbook is Lamento Borincano.
"Lamento Borincano" (English: Puerto Rican Mourning) is Rafael Hernández Marín's acclaimed composition in Puerto Rico's patriotic tradition. It takes its name from the free musical form Lament (Latin, lāmentor), and from Borinquen, an indigenous name for the island. Hernández released the song in 1929 to illustrate the economic precariousness that had engulfed the Puerto Rican farmer since the late 1920s' Puerto Rico. It became an instantaneous hit in Puerto Rico and its popularity soon followed in any countries of Latin America. Renown international artists have sung it and featured it in their repertoire.
This version is sung by Daniel Santos.
The song reflects the economic situation of the poor farmers in the Puerto Rico during the 1920s years leading to the Great Depression. The song starts with a cheerful and optimistic tone, presenting the jibarito, (a self-subsistence farmer descendant from the taino, Spaniards and/or African people, who is the iconic reflection of the Puerto Rican people of the day. The jibarito was a farmer-salesman who heads to town to sell his load of fruits and vegetables. Disappointed to see the poverty that in town and unable to sell his load, the jibarito returns home with his load unsold. The song does not name Puerto Rico by its modern name, instead using its former pre-Columbian name "Borinquen"
It’s no surprise that Marc Anthony also covered it.
The music I grew up with and danced to in clubs across New York City was “salsa,” and I was a salsera (female salsa dancer). That time and music is documented in the film Our Latin Thing.
The salsa genre boasts a number of classic, genre-defining albums - efforts by the likes of Rubén Blades, Ray Barretto and Willie Colón that sum up the very essence of this music. In terms of movies, however, there's only one cinematic production that has gained a rightful place as the ultimate salsa document: Our Latin Thing.
Anchored on the historic performance that the Fania All Stars delivered at the Cheetah Club on the evening of August 26th, 1971, Our Latin Thing captures the New York '70s salsa explosion in all its power and adrenaline. Directed by acclaimed filmmaker Leon Gast, the movie has been something of a collector's item during the past decades. Now, a remastered edition of both the movie and the music associated with Our Latin Thing is available on the Fania label. This is the definitive, 40th Anniversary edition of a historic moment in tropical music.
Highlights include a raucous version of "Anacaona" performed by Cheo Feliciano at the top his game - with an orchestra of superstars whose backup vocalists alone includes such luminaries as Héctor Lavoe, Ismael Miranda, Adalberto Santiago and Pete 'El Conde' Rodríguez. Gast takes also to the streets of the Spanish Harlem where the salsa phenomenon was born, as well as into the recording studio for a peek into the creative process, featuring producer/keyboardist Larry Harlow.
The opening images of Our Latin Thing tell you a lot about the world Puerto Ricans in New York City found themselves in: a world of crushing poverty in East Harlem (El Barrio), the South Bronx, and parts of Brooklyn.
The New York Times covered it in an article titled “It Happened One Night at the Cheetah.”
The largest salsa event on the mainland was held at Yankee Stadium.
For one memorable night, Aug. 24, 1973, more than 44,000 people converted Yankee Stadium into a center of Puerto Rican pride and the stage for one of the most significant concerts in Latin music history.
The concert started out as a jam session of the Fania All-Stars, a collection of the best artists of Fania Records, a small record label from Spanish Harlem.
The event blossomed, however, into an affirmation of the importance of Latino culture in New York City. It consolidated the Fania All-Stars as Latin music pioneers, and it almost prevented the Yankees from playing their remaining home games in the Bronx for the rest of that baseball season.
Before the concert, the Fania All-Stars had shaken up the Latin music scene in the Big Apple with gigs at two clubs in the city. The first, in 1968 at a club called The Red Garter, didn't generate as much enthusiasm as the second, in 1971 at The Cheetah Club.
The Cheetah Club gathering was the source of a two-record set, "Fania All-Stars Live at The Cheetah, Volumes 1 & 2," and of a documentary, "Our Latin Thing -- Nuestra Cosa." The set was such a sensation that to this day it is the largest-selling recording of salsa music in history.
The Fania liner notes detail a fascinating and contentious history of the event.
The date Friday, August 23, 1973, is an historic one for Latin music. That night, Jerry Masucci, the ultimate gambler, was the last man laughing as his most bizarre gambit to date became a total success— his Fania All Stars poured 40,000 screaming fans into the Yankee Stadium for an unforgettable night of superb music. If Fania Records’ super-band was already famous at the time (thanks to the famed Cheetah concert and the movie Our Latin Thing) this is the concert that made them a legend (the famous Cheetah club actually folded in 1974). That night, the All Stars were scheduled to play two sets. The first set was a traditional one, aided by guests Mongo Santamaría, Jan Hammer, Jorge Santana, and Billy Cobham, who quickly proved to the crowd that they could play soul as well as rock. The second set, another daring Masucci gambit, was never completed, as a bloody conga duel battle between Ray Barretto and Santamaría prompted the frenzied audience to bypass the security barriers to make their way into the playing field and onto the stage, triggering the concert’s abrupt ending. The orchestra had already gone through serious changes in personnel—now all the singers were either solo acts or bandleaders (or on the way to becoming both as part of the label’s expansion plans). On the other hand, a bitter internal controversy involving three of their main stars provoked one of the most important changes on the band’s roster—this was the result of the harsh breakup of Barretto’s band, with five of his musicians leaving to form Típica ’73. As a result, Barretto made it clear he did not want to share the same stage with Orestes Vilato, and threatened to leave the band if the latter remained in the lineup. Forcing Masucci and Johnny Pacheco to choose, they had no other option than to release Orestes, replacing him with another famous timbale virtuoso, Nicky Marrero.
Adalberto Santiago, another departing Barretto member and Típica ’73 founder, chose to leave the All Stars in solidarity with Vilato, in spite of having Barretto, Pacheco, and Masucci’s green light to stay in the band despite not being a solo act (unlike the other departing members, Adalberto left Barretto’s band on good terms). In another big move, Fania welcomes Ismael Quintana, the perennial Eddie Palmieri singer and now officially a solo act, into the lineup, with virtuoso Mongo Santamaría in as an invited guest. The rest of the lineup consisted of stellar bandleaders Willie Colón, Larry Harlow, Roberto Roena, Richie Ray, and Bobby Valentín; singers Cheo Feliciano, Bobby Cruz, Justo Betancourt, Hector Lavoe, Ismael Miranda, Santos Colón, and Pete El Conde Rodríguez; Yomo Toro on cuatro; trumpeters Roberto Rodríguez, Ray Maldonado and the legendary Victor Paz; and trombonists Barry Rogers and Lewis Kahn (the latter one in for Reynaldo Jorge). On November 1973, Fania reprises this concert in Puerto Rico, opening the new Roberto Clemente Coliseum.
There were yet more changes for this concert: Luís Perico Ortiz was now aboard replacing Roberto Rodriguez, while this date marked the formal All Star debut of Celia Cruz (she didn’t perform at Yankee Stadium, actually). Although they repeat the same song lineup here from the Yankee concert, this other date was also filmed and recorded. Finally, in 1975 Fania releases the long-awaited “Live At Yankee Stadium” albums. In spite of the title, material from the Puerto Rico concert, which resulted in better sound quality, was also included. In this first volume you’re holding right now, four of the five songs are actually from the Puerto Rico concert, which are “Pueblo Latino”, the only Yankee Stadium version appearing here. This album yielded the All Stars their first Grammy nomination. What’s more, in 2004, the Library of Congress awarded this double album as one of the 50 Most Important Albums of the 20th Century, along with Tito Puente’s Dance Mania, which was the only other Latin album on this prestigious list.
As Puerto Ricans on the island and mainland struggle to survive and look to the rest of us to lend a helping hand and much-needed support in the days ahead, there is no doubt that the resilience of the people will continue and that no matter what, the music will live on.
On that note, I’ll close with latin jazz great Ray Baretto’s Que Viva la Musica. (This version was recorded live at The Beacon Theatre.)
Long live the music, and long live the Puerto Rican people!
You can join SOS Puerto Rico on Daily Kos to keep up with other stories posted here. Just ask for an invitation in comments.
You can find links to Hurricane Maria support organizations here.
Previous stories in this Sunday series:
There are 5 million-plus Puerto Rican Americans on the mainland who won't forget—or forgive Trump
Baseball players step up to the plate to fight for Puerto Rico's survival
Puerto Rico: Symbols and songs from the island of Borikén
The status of Puerto Rico: debate, discussion, and the impact of Hurricane Maria
The Puerto Rico tourists rarely see, and the U.S. role in Puerto Rican poverty
Feeding Puerto Rico
The Caribbean, the U.S., and how their past and present are intertwined