CUBAN MUSIC.
A Soiree at Don Laureano's--An eminent Violinist and
Composer--Cuban Pianos--Real Negro Minstrels--Carnival
Songs--Coloured Improvisatores.
All work and no play makes even a 'follower of the divine art of
Apelles' a dull caballero; so when the day's toils are over, my
companion and I amuse ourselves in various ways. The theatre, the
Retreta, or promenade, a ball at the Philharmonic, and masquerading
during the carnival season, are among our favourite diversions.
Sometimes I enjoy these amusements in company with my partner; but when
his society is denied me, I avail myself of the companionship of my
friend Tunicu, who is a great authority in all matters appertaining to
the 'gay and festive.'
Being fond of music, Tunicu introduces me to his friend Laureano, who is
a favourite musical composer and an accomplished violinist. In
appearance, Don Laureano strongly resembles the renowned Paganini, and
it is for this reason, together with his marvellous performances on the
violin, that his admirers sometimes advise him to visit Europe and
America.
Don Laureano is chiefly employed as leader of the theatrical band and as
conductor of the orchestra which performs on fiestas at the cathedral.
He also gives lessons in pianoforte and violin playing, and composes
songs and 'zarzuelas.' Once this accomplished gentleman wrote an entire
oratorio of some five hundred pages, which after being printed and
gorgeously bound, was presented to Her Catholic Majesty the Queen of
Spain.
Laureano gives musical matinees and soirees at his private dwelling.
Everybody in the town being personally acquainted with him, no special
invitations are issued, but those who are inclined to enjoy a little
music, have only to enter the Don's open door, which has direct
communication with his reception room. Those who can obtain neither
seats nor standing-room, remain in the street, where, the huge windows
of the musician's house being devoid of glass, the performances are
perfectly audible. Negroes and mulattoes of all shades are among the
spectators of the pavement; but with the exception of a few coloured
musicians, only white people are admitted within the building.
The programme of entertainments includes popular melodies, selections
from oratorios, zarzuelas and Cuban dances. Laureano is assisted by his
son, Laureanito, who, notwithstanding his tender years, is a proficient
on the piano. This youthful prodigy usually accompanies his parent when
the latter enraptures his audience with a brilliant solo performance on
his favourite instrument.
Don Laureano is fond of comparing 'musical notes' with foreigners, and
finding that I sing comic songs and strum a little on the piano, he
occasionally prevails upon me to oblige the company with some of my
reminiscences of popular European airs.
The productions of such foreigners as have been inspired to compose
pieces founded on Cuban music, are also included in Don Laureano's
repertory. Ravina's far-famed 'Habaneros,' Gottschalk's 'Ojos Criollos'
and Salaman's 'Spanish Caprice,' are favourites with a Cuban audience.
But, like all Cuban and Spanish music, they require to be played with a
certain local sentiment, and it is for this reason that the most
accomplished European performers often fail to satisfy the Cuban musical
appetite. Under the practised hands of a Cuban player, however, every
justice is done to the compositions I have quoted.
Don Laureano's piano does not differ from any other piano, save that its
mechanism is in some way adapted to suit the requirements of a tropical
climate. Pianos of American manufacture are popular in Cuba; but
Pleyel's instruments are preferred by some, on account of their soft
tone and durability. A piano is an expensive luxury in the West Indies;
its intrinsic value being comparatively small when the cost of its
transfer from Europe or America, and the duty charged thereon, are
considered. Pianos, moreover, do not last as long in the tropics as they
do in colder climates, and great care is accordingly taken of their
delicate machinery. To ensure against any moisture which may ascend from
the marble or brick floor of the chamber in which the instrument is
lodged, small glass cups are placed as insulators under the castors. It
is considered highly detrimental to the tone of a piano to use it during
damp or wet weather; so, on a rainy day, the instrument is locked up and
the key carefully concealed by its owner.
Among the coloured community are many accomplished performers on every
instrument except the piano; for, somehow, the dark digits of these
gentlemen do not adapt themselves to the white and black ivories.
Veritable 'negro minstrels' are, in Cuba, as plentiful as blackberries;
but, as they 'never perform out of' the island, their renown is purely
local. The mulatto, Urriola, is famous for his performances on the
cornet-a-piston and the double-bass, and his young son is a favourite
flute-player. Lino Boza is the name of a distinguished negro performer
on the clarionet. He is also a popular composer of Cuban dance music.
These musical geniuses are all free, and reside in La Calle del Rey
Pelayo--a quarter of the town much frequented by the emancipated tribes.
Urriola and his son, together with Lino Boza and other black and brown
gentlemen, are great acquisitions in the orchestras of the theatre, the
cathedral, and the public balls; but their services are mostly in
request during the carnival season, and on certain fiestas. They are,
indeed, in such demand for the latter occasions, that engagements with
them are entered into days before these festivities take place, and not
unfrequently the same band is required to play at a dozen different
localities in one day.
The 'Danza Criolla' is the patriotic music of Cuba, and every fresh
carnival gives birth to a new set of these 'danzas.' When the air
happens to be unusually 'pegajoza,' or catching, a brief song is
improvised, and the words of this song chime so well with the music
which suggests them, as to form a sort of verbal counterpart of the
melody.
The merits of these songs are not, however, confined to a judicious
selection of words to suit the air. There is often a quaint local humour
conveyed in the doggerel verses; the charm being greatly enhanced by the
introduction of creole slang and mispronounced Spanish. Fragments of
these effusions occasionally degenerate into street sayings, which are
in everybody's mouth till the next carnival. One of the most popular
during a certain year was 'Tocolo mejor que tu!' which means Tocolo is a
better fellow than you. Other equally choice refrains--though not to be
rendered into corresponding English--are 'Amarillo! suenemelo
pinton,'and 'Calabazon, tu estas pinton.'
The following ditty, attached to a favourite Cuban danza, called 'La
Chupadera,' meets with many admirers. In the original it begins:--
iAy! si lo se, que yo estoy diciendo,
Que la chupadera a real esta vendiendose,
Cuando chupamos, cuando llueve, todo mojamos, &c.
which emphatically affirms that at a certain period of the (carnival)
day one may become comfortably tipsy for the small sum of five-pence,
and it further demonstrates how rain and rum can alike moisten the human
body.
Here is some wholesome advice for procrastinating people:--
iAy! Policarpio; toma la sopa,
Mientras que esta caliente;
Tomela, chino, que te se enfria!
in which Policarpio is recommended to drink his soup while it is hot,
and not to wait until the nourishment is cold and unpalatable.
iArrempuja! que por el hoyo se engarta la aguja.
is equally sententious. Forward! for remember that the needle can only
be threaded through its eye.
The following brief song speaks in praise of the neighbours at Santo
Domingo:--
Por un Espanol doy medio;
Por un Cubano--un doblon;
Y por un Dominicano
iDoy vida y corazon!
in which a Spaniard is estimated at two-pence, a Cuban at a doubloon,
and a Dominican at nothing less than 'life and soul.'
Here is some sage advice for a young lady seeking a husband:--
Chiquilla, si te casaras,
Casate con un 'scribano;
Qu' aunque no tenga dinero,
Siempre con la pluma en mano--
recommending to her notice a hard-working clerk, who, although possibly
deficient in fortune, has the power of earning one with his pen.
A baker is (in song) also considered an eligible match in preference to
a tobacconist, for whereas the latter cannot always provide the
necessaries of life, the former is at least sure of bread, chocolate
(which every Cuban baker manufactures and sells), and a few 'reales,' at
a very early hour of the day; as the original words clearly
demonstrate:--
La mujer del tabaquero
No tiene nada seguro.
La mujer del panadero
Todo lo tiene seguro;
Que a las cinco de la manana
Tiene el pan y el chocolate,
Y los tres reales, seguros.
The following is a specimen of a serenade, which is more remarkable for
its local associations than for its originality:--
No te causas espanto, ne admiracion,
Que los que te cantan, tus amigos son.
Y abrime la puerta, que estoy en la calle;
Que diran la gente?--Que es un desaire!
Cuatro rosas traigo, en cada mano dos,
No te canto mas, porque ya nos vamos.
Fear not, nor marvel greatly; for those who sing at your window are your
truest friends. So, open wide your doors to me, for behold me in the
street. And what will people say, then? Why sure, that you are slighting
me! I bring with me four roses fresh--two in every hand; but I'll sing
to you no more, because--we all must go elsewhere.
Songs similar to those quoted are usually delivered by negroes and
mulattoes at their tertulias or evening gatherings, where, seated on
leather-bottomed chairs, or squatting at the portals of their doors,
they entertain their black and brown divinities. One of the party
accompanies himself upon a guitar, or a primitive instrument formed out
of a square box upon which are arranged slips of flexible iron of
different lengths and tones. Another has a strangely-fashioned harp,
made from a bent bamboo, to which a solitary string is attached. The
guitar player is, however, in greater demand than the rest, and is
perhaps asked to favour the company with a sentimental song, such, for
example, as the popular ditty called La Bayamesa, which commences:--
?No te acuerdes, gentil Bayamesa,
Que tu fuistes el amor de Fulgencio,
Cuando alegre en tu candida frente,
Beso ardiente imprimi, con pasion?--
that is, a certain 'gentle Bayamese' is reminded that she was the loved
one of Fulgencio, who, invited by the lady's _open_ countenance
impressed upon it a passionate kiss.
This being unanimously approved of by the company, the dark-complexioned
troubadour will probably be called upon for another song, and the
following mournful ballad will perhaps be chanted:--
Yo naci solo para padecer;
iNo te acuerdes mas de mi!
No tengo ningun placer,
Desgraciada y sin salud;
Yo naci solo para padecer.
Mira, iay! la virtud
No se consigue asi, &c.
I was born a child of tears!
Think thou then no more of me.
Life brings only grief and fears
To one worn and pale with care.
I was born a child of tears!
Ah! can virtue linger where
Dwelleth only misery?