Buena Vista Social Club constitutes a brand worth its weight in Golden Age Cubans. Wim Wenders’ film documentary and Ry Cooder’s musical productions brought to the global alter practitioners of a balladry embargoed from leaving its native island for generations. Ibrahim Ferrer, Ruben González, Compay Segundo, Eliades Ochoa – all now deceased save for that last cowboy – spun a sole queen in the hombres club: Omara Portuondo. Gracias (Montuno) marks six decades of Portuondo singing for her supper, and as is custom, we’re picking up the tab.
A Poe-heavy pendulum swinging from the deep crimson of resignation to grateful blue existence, Gracias, recorded in Havana, opens with an a cappella oath to the Caribbean. Up swells the keyboards, acting as net to nylon strings, double bass, and Trilok Gurtu’s rain forest tabla. First verse, first love: Henri Salvador’s swooning “Yo vi” is a BVSC moment right down to the lump in your throat:
Yo vi
(I saw)
Tantas noches tantos días
(So many nights so many days)
Tantas vidas tan vacías
(So many empty lives)
Yo vi
(I saw)
Tantos barcos tanto mar
(So many boats so much sea)
The song’s love affair between vocalist and sentiment (“it gives me an overwhelming feeling of peace,” writes Portuondo) doesn’t last long. The next track, “Adiós Felicidad,” waves bye-bye to the notion of Gracias as simple, frothy, comfort brew, the song’s title doubling as its first two words. Portuondo’s liner note, “This is the story of my life,” exacts further toll. Pianist Roberto Fonseca bears mention as a prodigious talent, both as fiery instrumentalist, and as Gracias proves, a bandleader. The singer pours freshly squeezed melancholy, but the track’s silken, sassy bossa counters the song’s unrequited reality.
That plays right into the Brazilian rhythms and wonderfully crisped Portuguese of Portuondo’s duet partner Chico Buarque on “O Que Será (A Flor da Terra),” a tropic sashay that smiles with a shrug, as if to say, ‘Bueno, so it’s not all weeping hearts and broken lovers – que será, será.’ Then, of course, the next jukebox selection punches up another ancient wound, “Vuela Pena,” beginning with Portuondo repeating the latter word, shame, over and over like punishment, and then soothing its welt by exhorting the first word, fly. “Cuento Para un Niño” (story for a child) starts the tale on its rodillas – roe-dee-yahs: knees.
“Ámame, como soy” (love me how I am), a spry, melting duet with Pablo Milanés, would have delighted Portuondo’s much statelier duet partner, Ibrahim Ferrer, while a quick game of hop-scotch with her granddaughter on “Cachita” acts as an umbrella for the downpour of recriminations on “Rabo de Nube.” The four winds of the title track, shuffled and swayed with guest partner Jorge Drexler, gives thanks for him having composed the song for her. Follow-up “Nuestro gran amor” (our great love) features Cuban king of pianists Chucho Valdés doing his best Gershwin while Portuondo gives a vocal performance worthy of a George Cukor Oscar, and suddenly there’s Cachaíto López offering his bass as if Fred Astaire proffering a cheek.
There’s more, pictures of Portuondo both young and younger (open the image gallery), and art design to die for. Gracias, the pleasure’s all ours.
This article appears in December 5 • 2008.
