By Kat Bein
By Laurie Charles
By Shea Serrano
By Jeff Weinberger
By Kat Bein
By Shea Serrano
By S. Pajot
By Terrence McCoy
On January 22 the world watched as the pope homilized in Cuba, but for maestro Frank Emilio Flynn and his friends, the truly historic event was happening on this side of the strait. That night the influential 77-year-old Cuban pianist, whose rhapsodical playing reflects a lifelong passion for American jazz, gave his first-ever U.S. concert. Flynn, who is blind, led an all-star group of eight musicians called Los Amigos through an elegant two-hour set of old-style Cuban ballroom music -- romantic danzones, cha-cha-chas, and urbane sones -- arranged around the improvisational solos that characterize Latin jazz.
"When you hear Frank Emilio play, you're hearing Art Tatum and the history of Cuban music rolled into one," says Rob Gibson, director of the Jazz at Lincoln Center program at the New York City cultural complex, where Flynn and Los Amigos performed. (Mambo innovator Cachao, singer Celia Cruz, Afro-Cuban jazzman Chico O'Farrill, and pianist and Irakere founder Chucho Valdes have previously appeared there.) "The purpose of these concerts is to show the influence of Cuban music on jazz, and vice versa," continues Gibson. "This program is about a relationship between two countries."
Over the past year, musicians from Cuba have performed in major U.S. cities in numbers unseen since before the revolution. (In Miami exile politics have kept them at bay so far, although last month organizers of the MIDEM Latin American music conference announced that Cubans will be invited to perform here during the event this coming fall.) Most often these concerts, in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, and San Francisco, have allowed American audiences to experience the latest musical developments from Cuba. Los Amigos' performance, on the other hand, provided the sold-out crowd with a solid bridge to the past.
It seemed only fitting that the audience at Lincoln Center included timbalero Tito Puente and salsa pioneer Johnny Pacheco, two Cuban-music lovers who have been largely responsible for keeping the island sound alive in the United States over the past four decades.
"This music is like sand running through our hands," explains Flynn, who is best known as a major player of filin -- the Cuban jazz ballad style developed in the Forties -- and who has most often performed in Havana piano bars in recent decades. "The intention is for people who aren't familiar with it to get to know it, and to allow those who haven't heard it for a long time to relive it."
Ergo the inclusion in the group's set of an evergreen such as "El Manisero" ("The Peanut Vendor"), arguably the best-known Latin tune and the song that introduced Americans to real Cuban rhythms when it was performed in a Broadway theater by Don Azpiazo's Havana Casino Orchestra in 1930. Los Amigos' version spotlighted Flynn and Orlando "Cachaito" Lopez, whose thumping bass work recalled that of his famous uncle Cachao; special guest Alfredo "Chocolate" Armenteros, who lives in New York, contributed a blasting trumpet solo. In the middle of the classic danzon "Almendra," the band segued into a lowdown descarga (jam) that recalled the smoky bebop sessions of the musicians' American counterparts. In Enrique Lazaga's rapid hands the gYiro, a gourd scraped with a wooden stick, was transformed into a solo concert instrument. And Joaquin Oliveros, playing the traditional Cuban wooden flute -- rarely used these days -- showed why his nickname is "El Hilguero" (the Songbird).
The lineup also included famed conguero Tata GYines, groundbreaking percussionist Changuito of Los Van Van fame, and violinist Lazaro Jesus Ordonez, who performs with the National Symphony Orchestra of Cuba. Seventy-six-year-old vocalist and composer Nico Rojas flew on a plane for the first time to perform, singing three of his moving ballads; in a poignant moment he also struggled to play the guitar, his fingers having grown stiff with age. Seated at a black grand, Flynn wore his trademark wraparound dark glasses and a dark suit, his playing a melding of classical lyricism and percussive chords. At the end of a number he threw his arms up in the air, like a football player after scoring a touchdown.
A particular high point of the show was composer Ernesto Lecuona's "Danza Lecumi," a piece written for two pianos. Flynn was joined on-stage by Valdes and a heart-pounding Afro-Cuban percussion section featuring three bata -- the sacred drums that invoke the spirits in Santeria ceremonies. "Danza Lecumi" is one of the tracks on Flynn's sublime CD Tribute to Ernesto Lecuona, recorded in Havana and recently released in this country by Milan Latino. Early-twentieth-century composer Lecuona -- whose semiclassical works were inspired by Cuban and Spanish folkloric music, and who enjoyed huge popularity in the United States in the Thirties and Forties with hits such as "Malaguena" and "Siboney" -- is one of Flynn's favorites. He particularly favors Lecuona's so-called Afro-Cuban dances, in which classical melodies are combined with liturgical African rhythms played on the piano with the left hand.
"Lecuona created Afro-Cuban music, it's indisputable," Flynn claims. On a stormy afternoon the day after his concert, Flynn is planted on a straight-backed chair by the window in his hotel room. Marta, his wife of four decades, slicks back his white hair with a comb while their son Jesus, who acts as Flynn's manager, captures the moment with a video camera.