An inspiration should never be sought after. It’s kind of like that irritating water pot that never seems to bubble over due to a persistant gaze. To be inspired is to be overwhelmed with surprise -- a welcome shock to dulled senses.
Alina Marquez-Rothberg’s epiphany came courtesy of a little old coffee shop in Waynesville.
“I was sitting with my mother in Turnabouts (in Waynesville),” said Alina. “When I overheard ‘Buena Vista Social Club’ (for the first time) in the background ... I said ‘Gee, that sounds a little like Cuban music’ ... I went up to the counter and asked what was playing ... I ordered it and immediately went and told Joe.”
Alina’s husband (and founder of Son De Cuba), Joseph Rothenberg-Lapaz, was equally floored.
“I coludn’t believe what I was hearing,” said Joe. “This was the real deal ... My roots were shaking. Of all the places to hear real ‘Son’ music, and it just happened to be in Waynesville.”
After the initial listen, Joe became the consumate gardener, watering his already strong musical roots. For several months, Joe built a repertoire of music that he had heard as a boy in Cuba. Alina began playing keyboards with her husband in April, 1999, and an “infant” band (of eight members) was conceived on Labor Day at Havana’s in Asheville.
Son De Cuba has since developed into a quartet with Susana Piniero (bongoes, claves, guiro), 10-year old Nick Marquez-Rothenberg (timbales-Cuban drums), Alina on keyboards, and Joe on a bass-guitar mix. Despite their escalating popularity, the band has not forgotten its “lightbulb.”
Son De Cuba will perform at Turnabouts on June 9 from 8 p.m. until ... the dancing stops.
I have to admit that I have a gullible side when it comes to stereotypes. After watching the documentary, “The Buena Vista Social Club,” I had a narrow view of what a “Cuban Musician” should look like. I had in mind some flashy zoot-suits with an overwhelming air of party time. I pictured Alina’s and Joe’s homelife being a revolving door of visiting musicians playing in shifts on the lawn. I imagined black beans simmering on white coals, Cuban rum flowing aplenty, and salsa, salsa, salsa till dawn.
Was I even close to this image? Conjure, if you will, that annoying wrong answer buzzer on Wheel of Fortune. Got it? I’ll announce when to let off.
I drove back behind the Auburn Park neighborhood and up to a quaint suburban home. The smell of food maced my senses the minute I stepped up to the door. I tried not to be consumed by the wafting aroma as Joe showed me to the living room. The only hoopla I could hear came from the back -- courtesy of the two spritely children, Kelsey and Nick. My visual field consisted of an entertainment center, plush couches and large bay windows. OK, I was a tad overzealous in my cluttered image of how Cuban musicians live.
You can stop the buzzer now.
Alina, Joe, Kelsey and Nick are wonderful, charismatic people. My preconceived notions had been ditched, but I was equally entertained by the family’s openess about their fascinating history. Joe is a 7th- and 8th-grade teacher with a voluminous knowledge of Cuban music history. Alina is a piano teacher with a classical background, and their son, Nick, is a budding timbale player. The reciprocity of the family towards each other added to the flavor of the interview. Son De Cuba’s implementation of music is akin to their conversations. The “give and receive” traits create an atmosphere of dancing -- or (in my case) laughing.
“Son music is fun and up,” said Joe. “People respond to it. It’s connected to the hips.” Son music (made popular again by Buena Vista) dates back to 1580 in Santiago De Cuba.
“The music is a hybrid,” he said. “Who knows how it really happened. It was contributed by Cubans, Dominicans, Portugese, and Spaniards. The rhythm they developed became known as Salsa. Son is the pure Cuban predecessor of Salsa. The theory is that Son appeared in the late 19th century.”
The musical Havana one sees in “Buena Vista” is in sharp contrast with the Havana of the 1800s.
“The reason music was not popular in Havana was because drums were not allowed. People basically banged on cardboard. The aristocracy thought of it as heathen,” Joe said.
This assumption of vulgarity may have been in part due to its overseas influence.
“The original version of Son had been greatly improved by West African slaves who further developed syncopated rhythms,” Joe wrote in his band’s autobiography. “The native Cuban had been extinguished by invading Spaniards, leaving the music to be solely influenced by European Cubans and Africans. Thus, Afro-Cuban music began.”
Joe conceded that there are several other theories on how Son music began, and that the true origins may never be known for sure. Alina’s and Joe’s origins, fortunately were easier to trace.
“My parents escaped Cuba when I was a year old. There was definitely no spearheading by me to leave,” joked Alina.
“My family moved to the U.S. when I was 4,” said Joe. “Every three-day weekend, my parents would send me down to Cuba to visit my aunt and uncle. My uncle was the head of customs and knew the pilots for the Cuban airlines. I always got to sit in the navigator area.”
The excursions to Cuba for little Joe ended on Dec. 31, 1959. “When I was 10, I went on winter vacation. Little did I know that there was a revolution going on. I had to stay until March. Fidel gave me a long Christmas vacation,” he said.
The sound that rippled Alina’s ears for the first time in late 1997 was an aftershock from Joe’s boyhood jaunts in Havana. “This Son music you hear now is what I used to hear all the time in Cuba. Cuba was a party place for everyone,” he said.
“It didn’t matter if you were rich or poor,” Alina explained. “Everyone always had a cause to come out and celebrate.”
The Cuba, of today, however, is referred to in somber tones by the couple.
“Cuba is a tough issue with us,” said Joe. “A lot of people don’t understand the geography thing. For example, think about how close Columbia (S.C.) is. That’s how close Cuba is to Miami. The presence of Cuba is very strong... Alina’s cousin won the lottery that allows one person to leave Cuba and come to the U.S. When he talks (about the government), he looks around him and behind him, and only then does he start talking.”
Alina and Joe met at the University of Miami. She was a senior classical piano major and a student of Dr. Rosalina Sackstein. Joe was a classical guitar grad-student. He was under Juan Mercadal -- one of the great Cuban classical guitarists. The couple married and moved to New Hampshire where they taught for the New Hampshire Musical Festival School.
“We dabbled in some Cuban music for Hispanic Heritage Month and let it go,” said Joe.
In 1985, they moved back to Miami and became music directors for the archdiocese of Miami. They found the job challenging and stimulating due to being surrounded by a wealth of talented musicians. Eleven years, however, is a long time to do anything.
“We retired from the church in 1997” We were overwhelmed with church. You had children’s mass, adult’s mass, weddings, funerals, and so on ... We moved to Haywood County to better our children’s lives ... Once here, I began questioning myself. What am I? What kind of musician am I going to be?... Should I do rock-n-roll again?” Joe had been in a rock band, the Rogues, when he was 13.
That’s about the time Ry Cooder’s “little experimentation” was discovered by Alina. Still, Joe had no idea how receptive the public would be to the band’s music. The first planned gig in March 1999 was snowed out. On Labor Day, the group “Son De Cuba” performed a dance party at Havana’s.
“The cool thing was that nobody knew about us,” said Joe. “It was so crowded that people were dancing into us. I was performing scared ... I could have gotten hit in the mouth with a mic ...The reason all those people had shown up was because they had heard it was Cuban music. I did not expect the popularity.”
As if on cue, Alina’s mere mention of their gifted boy had the 10-year old barrelling into the room. He greeted me with a full-toothed grin and a steady handshake.
“Our friend (and sometimes bandmate) Ozzie Orango from Con Clave (a popular Cuban dance band) came over to the house one day,” said Joe. “I told him that I wanted him to meet our timbale player. When he saw Nick, he couldn’t believe it. He looked at him, ‘This is the timbale player?”
“You wouldn’t believe that he only started last October,” Alina said.
“Nick is the star,” said Joe. “The kid is playing like a man. I would never be able to do what he is doing. Nick is like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He’s a shy kid, but once he starts playing he really likes performing for the crowd.”
“Nick is up here in the mountains and it’s not like he’s surrounded by Son music,” said Alina. “I can’t think of a 10-year old that would watch ‘Buena Vista’ over and over. His friends would never sit and watch this.”
Nick would have his own self-actualization when the Afro-Cuban All-Stars performed at UNCA’s Lipinsky Auditorium last March.
“I was going to do the translation for the seminar the All-Stars were putting on,” said Joe. “I had told Nick that it was unlikely that his hero, timbale legend Amadito Valdes, was playing... Then I was taken back to see who was head of the seminar, it was none other than Amadito. I was shocked. I told him, ‘You’re my son’s hero, he thinks you’re hot stuff.’ Amadito said, ‘What’s his name?’ I told him and he immediately got on the mic and yelled, ‘Nicholas, Nicholas!’ ... After the session was over, Amadito stood up and dedicated the show to Nick.”
Smacks of destiny, doesn’t it?
The present lineup of Son De Cuba is four members, but Joe is always looking for helping hands. “We haven’t been able to find singers ... We would like to just have backup,” he said.
Maraca man Eduardo Piniero contributes stage presence along with Joe to write authentic Cuban music for the mountains of Western North Carolina. Ozzie Orango is a nice addition, and will be performing with the band at the free show at the Haywood County Public Library on May 21.
As for the band’s evolution, it just depends on how we mountainfolk warm up to a hearty platter of feet-tickling, hip-revolving music. ““This is not music you sit down to,” said Joe. “We expect people to dance.”
Ironic how a quest for a jolt of caffeine has flourished into a vibrant musical reawakening.

 

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