THE WAYBACK: A Deep Dive into Havana’s Studio Scene of the 1950s and ‘60s.
ISRAEL “CACHAO” LOPEZ
ISRAEL “CACHAO” LOPEZ
Descargas: Cuban Jam Session in Miniature
PanArt (reissued 2018)
If you’d happened into the downstairs bar at the Waldorf Hotel on South Miami Beach during the 1980s, you might have been puzzled by the scene. A few retirees hunched over drinks at the bar — at that time, the somewhat frowsy Waldorf was the only establishment on Collins Ave. that was open to the public. The rest were retirement condos in various stages of neglect — this was before the South Beach revival. Inside, cafe tables, set for patrons, were almost perpetually empty. Nobody looked happy to be there.
Except for the bassist leading a trio in the corner, under an air conditioning vent. That was the Cuban bassist Israel “Cachao” Lopez, who for years held down a low-key gig several nights a week. There, rarely even stopping to introduce himself or his musicians, Lopez would essay jazz standards, and stately interpretations of romantic songs from pre-Castro Cuba. Boleros like “Dos Gardenias Para Ti.”
The arrangements were crisp and respectful. The playing always understated. It was impossible to tell, from this cocktail sound, that Lopez had been the architect of some of the most incendiary Cuban music of the 20th century. That he was revered among Havana’s elite musicians as not just being in the room where mambo first happened, but being a key architect of it.
In a quirk of history directly related to the polarized Cuban culture of Miami in the 1980s, even the people who should have known Cachao and celebrated his presence — like Gloria and Emilio Estefan, of the then-local Miami Sound Machine — said little about him. His was a gig truly under the radar. That changed later, after Buena Vista Social Club, after actor Andy Garcia encountered Cachao and resolved to tell his story. (The result is the lovely 2008 documentary Uno Mas.)
By the time he hit the Waldorf, Cachao’s legacy among musicians and scholars was secure. Still, it’s almost impossible to develop a complete discography of Cachao’s recordings from Cuba — throughout the 1950s, he was in the studio frequently, recording with the dance bands that played in the clubs and also as an accompanist for hire. The studios kept spotty notes; many of the recordings vanished long ago. Somehow, though, a few titles have survived, including the astonishingly loose Cuban Jam Session In Miniature: Descargas — one of the key puzzle pieces in the evolution of Cuban music.
In the years before Castro’s revolution in Cuba, the Panart studio brought in orchestras for informal sessions that began late, after nighttime gigs ended. Starting with a simple catcalling melody or a tune from the dance repertoire, the bands would jam (the proximate Cuban term is “descarga”) at length, stretching out in ways they couldn’t in the clubs.
The recordings have been reissued as part of a 5-disc box, The Complete Cuban Jam Sessions. They offer graduate-level lessons on the delicate art of rhythm section interplay — there are breakdowns on the Cachao disc (“Oye Mi Tres Montuno”) that show the percussionists in an effortless lockstep, gently but firmly pushing the rest of the band forward. (Unlike previous versions of the Panart material, this remastering job renders the percussion with exceptional clarity.) Nothing feels studied — musicians jump in when the spirit moves them, and on both the Cachao disc and a boisterous session led by flutist Jose Fajardo, there are heated duels between horn players, and unscripted call-and-response exchanges between soloists and the ensembles and sometimes, singers. It’s a glimpse into a relaxed mode of music-making from a peak moment in a style’s evolution. It’ll make you want to bearhug the alert engineers at Panart who kept the tape machines running deep into the night.
KEY TRACKS: “Oye Mi Tres Montuno,” “Descarga Cubano.”
FURTHER INQUIRY: Beny More: Asi Es Beny (1958); Compay Segundo: Chanchaneando.
INFLUENCED: Various Artists: Las Estrellas de Arieto; Ruben Gonzalez: Introducing Ruben Gonzalez.