Deviating a bit from the usual routine, this is a review of both Ibrahim Ferrer’s CD and his recent sold-out concert at the Saenger Theatre with legendary pianist Rubén González, vocalist Omara Portuondo and a multitude of incredible Cuban musicians. The word “awesome” is often over-used but in the case of both Ferrer’s CD and concert, no other adjective is nearly as appropriate.
At the Saenger, González, who was pianist with the immortal Arsenio Rodriguez during the ’30s and ’40s, performed first. González is a pixie-ish 77 year-old and before playing, he was escorted across the stage by one of his fellow musicians and shook hands with members of the audience. The audience adored him before he even started. When he did commence playing, I was reminded of Professor Longhair, who, like González, always seemed pretty frail until his fingers touched the piano. And then, the hurricane blew in.
Accompanied by a charming trombonist/vocalist (everyone in the orchestra sang) bandleader, González played piano with audacity and humor. Sometimes, he would pound out a rolling cluster of notes, gliding down the keyboard and ending up in thin air on an invisible piano. It was like a Harpo Marx routine. Except Harpo never approached the rhythmic intricacies of González and company. Just the way the band members danced and laughed among themselves was a delight.
After an intermission, Ferrer took the stage. With a gleeful look in his eye, Ferrer (born in 1927 in Santiago) sang beautiful songs that made women glad to be female and men proud to be macho. Often singing duets with Ms. Portuondo (and dancing with her), Ferrer was a lovable comrade. One of the thoughts that often came into my mind during the evening was that if Fidel Castro is such a horrible monster and that Cuba is such a grim, totalitarian place, how come Cuban music is such a joyous enterprise? Perhaps isolation and/or communism are germane to fine art. Picasso thought so.
Ferrer’s CD differs from the concert in that it features a large string section and the electric guitars of Manuel Galban and Ry Cooder. If you desire lessons in rhythm, look no further. There are numerous supporting vocalists including Ms. Portuondo, Teresa Garcia Caturia and José Antonio Rodriguez. The songs include the powerhouse “Mami Me Gusto” (translated lyrics are thoughtfully provided: “Even that little kiss you gave me last night—I swear, it sent me up to heaven”), the theme song of bandleader Benny Moré (who was once Ferrer’s employer), “Que Bueno Baila Usted,” and Faustino Oramas’ son, “Marieta.” At the end of this selection, the singer explains that his wife was having heart problems so he took her to a specialist in Havana. The doctor proceeded to examine the woman: “He took off her dress, her panties, too, and her slip, but when I saw that indecency I said: ‘This isn’t good, I really don’t think my wife’s heart is that far down.’” Listening to Ibrahim Ferrer will remind anyone, Spanish-speaking or not, that their heart is the body’s most important organ.
