Rebeca Mauleón

Rebeca Mauleón (photo: David Belove)

A few years back, San Francisco-based pianist/composer Rebeca Mauleón was playing piano with Pete Escovedo's band one night; the opening act for a show headlined by Latin legend Tito Puente. After the gig Mr. Puente approached the young Ms Mauleón and asked her to play on his next recording. "It was daunting when I came into the recording sessions with all these New York salsa-heads," says Ms Mauleón. "I was quite young. But once you prove your stuff everything is fine with the world." Stuff proven. She went on to record four times with Mr. Puente from 1987 to 1993 (including the 1990 Grammy Award-winning Goza Mi Timbal). In addition to Mr. Puente, she has collaborated with such Latin luminaries as Carlos Santana, Israel "Cachao" Lopez, Carlos "Patato" Valdez, Giovanni Hidalgo; also, jazz great Joe Henderson, ex-Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart's Planet Drum Ensemble, and Steve Winwood, to name a few.

"My inspiration has always led to the creation of works which express the connection between a myriad of peoples, cultures and musical traditions," says Ms Mauleón, who is one of Meet The Composer's latest round of New Residencies recipients. But creating music is just one piece of her musical life. As educator, and musicologist, Ms Mauleón is acknowledged as one of the leading authorities on Afro-Cuban and other Caribbean musics, having written the seminal Salsa Guidebook for Piano and Ensemble, among others, and co-editing the Latin Real Book (both published by Sher Music). Her debut album, Round Trip is available from Bembe Records.

She spoke about rhythm, the origins of Latin music, education, her esteemed collaborators, and New Residencies.

MTC: Where does rhythm come from?
RM: There are two places: internally and externally. But, who really knows? It's an innate and organic part of humanness. It's something we inherently have but not everyone cultivates. Each culture has developed it's own sense of what rhythm is really about, whether it's a simple kind of heart-beat rhythm or a complex polyrhythm. Each has it's own reason for existing in the world, and world music.
MTC: Could any musician play a Latin rhythm?
RM: That's an interesting question. Any really good musician, no matter what style of music they play, can get this. It's not mysterious. It involves a level of rhythmic sophistication that comes with really good instinct and experience. I've found that there are, unfortunately, rhythmic challenges that some people face. More so later in life, as people try to understand this music as a new form. It involves learning a whole entire language. Ultimately, everybody has the capacity to learn and expand rhythmically.
MTC: You studied dance, in particular Flamenco, before you studied music seriously. How has dance influenced you as a pianist and teacher?
RM: Flamenco has such an incredible history in its trajectory. It has, in and of itself, so many different influences; not only Spanish, but Moorish, Egyptian and Hindu. Many of the complex rhythms that we find in Middle Eastern, Asian, and North African musical forms, lend themselves to a deeper understanding of rhythm in general. Once you get the rhythm in your body, any rhythm, it makes you a better musician. I try to get musicians to dance in my classes, incorporating rhythms into their bodies. When I began to study African, Brazilian, Cuban, and other forms of Latin-American dance, I found a commonality in the rhythms I had already studied in Flamenco. That's what I really got from being a dancer: the rhythms and styles I learned helped me to assimilate those musical forms to the piano. As a pianist you have to have such a strong command of rhythm.
MTC: Before a student learns bomba and cha-cha, is it important that the student learn the history of the music?
RM: It's not essential, but it is important. I would recommend it. There's no way to fully appreciate or assimilate a musical style without knowing some of its history. I would encourage students to take my Latin American history class, to gain an appreciation for the diversity, complexity, and the connections between the music and its history. For example, anybody who wants to study jazz has to know its history; the difference between Dixieland and Ragtime, bebop and cool. There's no way to fully be a strong jazz musician without knowing the stylistic difference that happened historically. The more you know of it, the deeper experience you bring to your interpretation. That also goes with studying the repertoire. If you have a historical understanding of the music, you can go back and draw from your knowledge. People who know the music will appreciate that you have listened and studied.
MTC: One of your instruction books is titled 101 montunos. What is a montuno?
RM: That's a Cuban expression. Literally in Spanish it refers to "that which is from the mountain." It's slang in Cuban popular music, referring to the rhythmic section of a song that incorporates the refrain and involves more improvisation. After the verse and the bridge, when you get to the main hook, that is called the montuno (based on the Cuban son). As Cuban son developed, and the piano became incorporated, some people referred to the piano's patterns as the montuno. Others used a different term altogether: tumbao. Afro-Cuban popular music, in particular, is based on oral histories, a lot of which haven't been documented. As a result, in Cuba, it could literally be different from how one person explains it from another who lives around the corner. Unfortunately, there hasn't been much academic emphasis placed on Cuban music until recently.
MTC: Does most of what we know in America as Latin music come from Cuba?
RM: Of all the Latin rhythms we know to be the most popular in North America or Western culture, I would say 80% originated in Cuba. For example, conga, mambo, and cha-cha-cha are Cuban or Afro-Cuban rhythms. But there are others which are as popular and recognized on an international level that come from other countries in Latin America; merengue from the Dominican Republic, the samba from Brazil, cumbia from Columbia, the tango from Argentina. All of those rhythms have some degree of connection to Cuban music because they all have, basically, the same West and Central African roots. Many of the rhythms of the Caribbean and South America have identical patterns to African religious and secular music. If you think about world history; the central ports of the slave trade were in the Caribbean. With that came the emergence of Spanish speaking colonies. It is no coincidence that there's a commonality. It's just that when we talk about "Latin music" and "Latin rhythm," the most recognized forms originated in Cuba.
MTC: How did it evolve from there? Why do we associate certain styles of music with different places? For example, why is salsa from New York and Puerto Rico, and merengue from the Dominican Republic?
RM: In the case of merengue there is a very old myth that it came from Cuba originally in an Eastern style called upa-upa. Upa-Upa contained a section called merengue. These are moments in history documented orally by relatives of migrant workers, so there's no assurance to that, but it's one story I've come across in my research. If you look at the migration of workers from the Dominican Republic and Haiti to Cuba, after the Haitian revolution, you're going to find many similarities. In fact, Haiti has it's own version of merengue called mereng. It's hard to say which is different unless you examine them on a detailed level. It would be a very interesting case study. You might find more connections than differences. There's also the story that the son, developed in the Eastern part of Cuba, contained Dominican influences because of one woman, Ma Teodora, who traveled from the Dominican Republic to Cuba to work in the cane fields. The music that she developed caught on in Santiago de Cuba and people adopted it as their own.
MTC: Eddie Palmieri is one of your influences. Where does he fit in the development of Latin Music and what was it like when you met him?
RM: Being a part of New York's Puerto Rican community, he was one of the people responsible for the transition from Afro-Cuban and Afro-Latin music to the commercialized term salsa in New York. In New York, after Cuba's revolution, it was the Puerto Rican population that kept Cuban-based music alive, which is what salsa is. Salsa is not a rhythm, it's a genre of music that incorporates mostly Cuban rhythms, seasoned with other Latin American forms, and interpreted by many. It's been a sore subject for years between salsa musicians in New York and Cuban musicians. Cuban musicians insist that salsa was nothing more that a marketing term for Cuban music. The argument can be made, and should be made, that salsa is a new interpretation of Cuban based rhythm. The first "Latin" record I bought was by Eddie Palmieri. When I heard it I really wanted to play like that. I was interested in his combination of jazz based harmony and Cuban rhythm. It was a perfect marriage. When I have spoken with him he talks about his passion for studying and expanding his harmonic knowledge. But, he's a frustrated drummer (laughs). I am very much the same way. I consider myself much more of a rhythmist than a melodic player.
MTC: Was traditional jazz a big influence?
RM: It didn't become so until I had been playing Cuban music for about three years. I realized what the connections were after listening to Palmieri and other modern Latin musicians. When I studied the history, mainly the people that came out of New York in the 40s: Machito, Mario Bauzá, Dizzy Gillespie and his collaboration with Chano Pozzo; it just made sense that this would be the sound I would gravitate towards.
MTC: You played with several Latin percussion legends: Patato, Tito Puente, Giovanni Hidalgo. What were some of those experiences like?
RM: It made sense to work with a lot of percussionists, because I had an affinity for it. Had I not been a pianist I would have been a conga drummer. The first experience I had with Tito was when I was working with a band led by Pete Escovedo in the Bay area. We were opening up for Tito's band and after a show he asked me to record on one of his records, which I did. It was daunting when I came into the recording sessions with all these New York salsa-heads. I was quite young. But once you prove your stuff everything is fine with the world. I subsequently went on to arrange and compose for him. Every time he came to town he would take me out for Cuban food. He was like another Godfather to me.

Patato has such a history. He's goes back to the 40s and the development of conga playing in Cuba. Also, he's such a nut(laughs). It was a joy to work with him. We did several performances in the Bay area: tributes to various percussionists. To be invited to play piano with him, was a real pleasure.

Giovanni, one of the most respected technicians of conga drumming, is a truly amazing spiritual presence on stage. We did the Mickey Hart Planet Drum tour for a couple of years, utilizing our Afro-Cuban roots and bringing them into a global world context. He has the ability to effortlessly flow into any kind of musical style. I am grateful for the opportunity to work with all of them, and so many others.
MTC: Not to mention Carlos Santana.
RM: My first foray into "Latin music" was listening to the "Latin rock" sound established by Santana, as most teenagers in the Bay area. Before I listened to Eddie Palmieri, I could play Santana's Oye Como Va. I later realized it was written by Tito Puente. The connection was there.
MTC: How would you describe San Francisco in terms of its music scene today?
RM: San Francisco is like a small New York. We have the same types of people but less of them. It's a combination of cultural diversity and climate. The beauty of California and the Bay Area lends itself to its uniqueness. People look at Bay area musicians as free-spirited. We don't have perhaps the corporate restrictions that you might find in larger cities because we don't have such an infrastructure. There's not such a big music industry out here. Because of that, there's a lot more creative freedom. It's very liberating. People here are more intimately connected musically. They're more prone to trying different styles. I've played with Brazilian, Colombian, and Venezuelan musicians. I've collaborated in my group with blues and gospel singers. I have a little more room to do that here, than if I was living somewhere else.
MTC: What are some of the activities you have begun in the Residency, and what impact do you hope it has?
RM: I'm doing some hands-on workshops with seniors and elementary school children, teaching them world rhythm, dance and song. I'm doing a class I call "Music in Poetry," where I work with senior poets who, in turn, play musical instruments to underscore their poetry. We do rhythm and movement workshops. At the New Residencies inaugural event (April 2001) we presented what we had been doing in class. It was a lot of fun. These are 75 year-old-plus elders who have never played a musical instrument in their lives, let alone conga drums, güiros, and claves. When my band played I had them out there dancing the cha-cha, mambo, and merengue; all the steps they learned in class. Ultimately, that's the main focus of what I want to do: get people to feel, regardless of their musical level, that they can improvise and create. The direct connections I make with them are most important to me. As we continue to explore this collaboration with the community, I'll take their creative experience and incorporate that into my music. One of the pieces I'm working on will be a theatrical piece, incorporating stories of the migration and transculturation of many of the students, who are 90% immigrant. Unfortunatley, due to the explosion of the computer industry, the South Market (San Francisco) community has undergone a traumatic change: the disenfranchising of a lot of the population who can't afford to live here. Thankfully, a lot of people in the community have been able to stay in low income housing. What we're trying to do in the residency is make their presence visible. It's important to give them places to create music and art, and to display that work in the community. There is a very strong commitment from the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts to build understanding, and draw audiences from all over the Bay area. I'm looking forward to reaching out and expanding the audiences to the broader community.