The music may be rooted in the great Cuban tradition, but for the Buena Vista All Stars it is very much alive, evolving and looking forward. Antonia LeVay speaks to Demetrio Muñiz and Ángel Aguiar, two members of the Havana band, ahead of their October appearance at Cardiff’s Llais festival.
We begin with a small practical hurdle: language.
“We have only one problem,” laughs Demitrio Muñiz, Buena Vista All Stars co-founder. “I speak a little English, but the rest of the guys only speak Spanish.”
That barrier quickly dissolves with the help of translators: fitting, perhaps, for a band whose ethos upholds music itself as a universal language. They’re set to visit Cardiff for the first time to play the annual Llais Festival, whose name is the Welsh word for ‘voice’.
Wales and Cuba share a deep attachment to singing and storytelling. I ask Muñiz and his bandmate, Buena Vista All Stars vocalist Ángel Aguiar, what they think Cuban music has in common with a place like Wales. A translator jumps in to reword my question in Spanish: what connection do they see between the music being shared at this festival and their own? Muñiz answers, setting a pattern where he speaks for both himself and Aguiar.
“I’ll tell you my opinion. Music, in general, everywhere in the world, is only one thing. Music has no borders. It’s free. And that free music can reach any soul in the same way,” he says. “For us, it’s easy, in every corner of the world, to communicate and to share our music because it’s part of the music of the world. Cuban music is one of the most important pieces of music in the world. It’s important in Latin America, of course, but everywhere we go there are people who know it and enjoy it.”
It’s a reminder that while Cuban music is often framed as ‘world music’ from the outside, for the players themselves it simply belongs to the same global current as everything else. Buena Vista All Stars are the successor group to Buena Vista Social Club, whose lineup also featured Muñiz and whose remit was to keep the music of postwar, pre-Revolution Cuba alive. They are, though, clear that what they do should not be treated as a museum piece.
I ask whether they feel misunderstood when their work is described as “classic” or “nostalgic”. First, they clarify the question in Spanish amongst themselves. Am I asking about how they play Cuban music, or how it’s perceived? Then comes the answer.
They explain that the band’s connection with audiences around the world is constantly changing the show.
“Our music is known internationally, and every audience is different,” says Muñiz. “People already recognise our music because of the tradition and the long history of Cuban music around the world. That’s why we can take part in festivals of so‑called traditional music – there is an immediate identification between our music and audiences everywhere.”
But these so-called traditions are far from rigid. “In our concerts there’s always a dialogue with other styles – with jazz, with rock. We have Cuban versions of different kinds of pieces. In Cuba, historically, we’ve always had contact with many kinds of music – Cuba is a country in the middle of a continent. Over history we’ve had French, Spanish, African influences, even English – the English occupied Havana in the 18th century. We’re part of the world. So the way we play is traditional, yes, but always in communication with other musics.”
I ask how they see the future of Cuban music and its cultural integrity, especially with younger generations coming through in a rapidly changing world. The answer begins in Spanish: “The future of our music, in general, is full of new strands and directions,” Aguiar says. “But our cultural identity will always be maintained. There will always be renewal and creation, but our music has survived many years, many decades, and it will continue.
“We may see fusions, as we already do, but always with our national and cultural identity at the core. We are maintaining it now, the generations before us maintained it, and I believe the future generations will as well, even as they create new fusions like everywhere else.
Muñiz picks up: “I think the world is going to change a lot – it already is. But I believe Cuban music, and music in general, will remain a bridge between people, even between people who disagree. The world is very complicated now, but in all these years travelling and playing around the world, we always find one important thing: communication. Music is the best way we have to communicate feelings between different cultures.
“I was telling a friend that we had played in India,” the trombonist continues. “He couldn’t believe how strong the reaction was. But the people there were enthusiastic, they understood everything, they felt it. India has a very different culture from ours, but our music is international.
“Our rhythms – son, mambo, cha‑cha‑chá – they’ve travelled everywhere. People may not even realise they’re Cuban, because those rhythms have been absorbed into rock, jazz, so many things. So when we play them with our own identity, people immediately recognise the feeling.
“When we went to Tbilisi, in Georgia, the people there were singing our songs like Cubans, dancing like Cubans. It was my first time there and it was amazing. The public became part of the show. The last time in France, in Javené, it was the same, an incredible connection with the people. The audience isn’t separate from the concert, they are inside the concert with us.”
When Muñiz and Aguiar are taking downtime from the All Stars, they’re suitably globally-minded in their listening habits. “Many kinds of music,” comes the answer. “From Brazil, Canada, the United States, Africa. I don’t have one special style. I love the fusion of different cultures. The most important thing to be open to all cultures, because you grow when you listen to other points of view about sound. I like symphonic music very much, but also jazz, and some kinds of rock.”
If they could put one Cuban song in the ears of someone who has never really listened to Cuban music before, where would they start? The question is clarified in Spanish – am I asking about the first song to open a show, or the first song to introduce a newcomer to Cuban music? – and once that’s settled, they offer a small canon.
“I think one of the most Cuban songs is [Isolina Carrillo’s] Dos Gardenias,” Muñiz says. “It’s like a paradise of Cuban feeling. Another is Lágrimas Negras [by Miguel Matamoros]. These are traditional Cuban songs, from the early part of the 20th century, but they’re still alive. And of course, Chan Chan – which was written later, but all of them are still alive in our daily lives, like mother songs to us.”
They agree, especially with Lágrimas Negras. “For me, it’s perfect because it can move between a bolero and son. It shows different genres and rhythms in one piece, and it really identifies our music. If you asked me for the Latin American song {par excellence}, I would also mention Gracias A La Vida [by Chilean folk musician Violetta Parra]. Everyone sings it around the world as if it were from their own country.”
Both Demitrio and Ángel are formally trained, but they’re equally products of Cuba’s informal musical education: the streets, the parties, the neighbourhood gatherings where music is woven into everyday life. I ask what they learned growing up surrounded by music, that they didn’t necessarily learn at the conservatoire.
“From traditional music, we’ve learned a lot,” Aguiar explains in Spanish. “We also have a classical education – that’s very important. We studied the great classical composers of the world, and the Cuban classics too: danzas, contradanzas. That classical training, in proper schools, gave us a wider vision of genres and rhythms.
“But you grow up inside the music. You learn from any corner, any street. In Cuba, a street corner can be as much of a conservatoire as a formal school because of the level of musicianship all around you.”
Buena Vista All Stars, Llais Festival @ Wales Millennium Centre, Cardiff Bay, Sun 11 Oct
Tickets: £29.50. Info: here
words ANTONIA LEVAY
