Poverty, as well as the prospect of a life with limited opportunities, has traditionally motivated individuals born amid those circumstances to struggle to break free of such situations. In Spain, history is full of stories about poverty-stricken young men who became bullfighters to escape miserable lives. In other parts of the world, boys have looked to the boxing ring as their ticket out of the slums. Throughout the years, the arts have also opened the doors of opportunity to those who carne into this world poor but with talent. In this piece I chronicle the achievements of some of the artists in Latin American music who escaped the cycle of poverty to become acclaimed artists.
Orlando Guerra, alias "Cascarita"
On September 14, 1920, in the city of Camagüey, Cuba, a tiny baby boy named Orlando was born to a disadvantaged family. As is typical in families of limited resources, he had to work from an early age to supplement the family's income. His first job was delivering prepared food to private homes and as he walked from house to house, he amused himself by singing. Some of the neighbors heard the young boy and encouraged him to approach a local radio station for a chance to sing on one of its programs. He did just that and soon gained enough experience to warrant moving to Havana to look for better opportunities.
In 1939, he, joined the Hermanos Palau Orchestra and in 1941, became the lead singer with Julio Cueva's band. The guarachas he recorded with these groups earned him enormous popularity. He developed an original singing style that, together with his outlandish mode of dress, set him apart from other performers. Cascarita was the archetype of all guaracheros. His voice had that characteristic street sound that is a prerequisite for all real guaracha singers. His intimate knowledge of people's expressions and his inventive genius provided him with material for endless inspirations.
By the late 1930s, the guaracha had fought its way into the repertoire of the Cuban jazz-style bands. Orlando Guerra, a skinny, jumpy, pepper pot singer, emerged as its best interpreter. He was better known as "Cascarita," a nickname given to him by fellow musicians after an incident that occurred when the singer was a member of the Hermanos Palau Orchestra. One night, while returning from playing at a dance in another city, the bus stopped at a roadside stand for the group to get something to eat. Orlando ordered a ham sandwich to take back to the bus. When he unwrapped the sandwich, he discovered that they had only given him a very thin slice of ham between the bread. He cried out indignantly, "Me dieron sólo una cascarita" (They gave me only a crusty shaving of ham). From that point on he was known only as "Cascarita."
His recordings with Hermanos Palau and Julio Cueva were frequently heard on Puerto Rican radio stations. As a result, in 1941, he was given a contract to perform with Pepito Torres' Siboney Orchestra at the Escambrón Beach Club in San Juan. The famous Cuban guarachero spent one year singing with the band, with whom he recorded Llora timbero, Ladrón de gallinas and El brujo de Guanabacoa.
After returning to Cuba, he kept busy with nightclub appearances, while performing on his own radio program and doing recordings. During this period, he was backed by the Hermanos Palau's band. His biggest hits, however, came with the Casino de la Playa Orchestra, with arrangements by Dámaso Pérez Prado. The following are some of the recordings from that era: Champú de cariño, El caballo y la montura, Bigote de gato, Quiero un sombrero and Lo que sea.
Cascarita was the master guarachero and sonero from whom others learned and borrowed as they developed their craft. He went from delivering catered food (known among Cubans as cantinas) to delivering creative interpretations of Cuban popular music. Cascarita spent the last years of his life living and performing in México. He died in the Aztec capital in 1975.
Daniel Santos
Daniel Santos' roots were planted in the low-income vicinity of Trastalleres in San Juan, Puerto Rico, the same poor neighborhood that years later produced salsa singer Andy Montañez. The neighborhood was called "Trastalleres" because it sprung behind the railroad yards in the outskirts of the Puerto Rican capital. Santos always remembered Trastalleres' unpaved and dangerous streets, the school where he learned to fight for everything he needed. His carpenter father had a difficult time finding employment, and his mother was a poorly paid seamstress. Together, they tried to support Daniel and his three sisters. As a young boy, Daniel began to use his voice to peddle eggs and avocados through the streets of the surrounding barrios. Some of his customers recognized this vocal potential as he cried out "¡aguacates, huevos!" His education in Puerto Rico ended after third grade because his family couldn't afford to keep him in school. Daniel's father made him a shoeshine box and he began shining shoes at five cents a pair. Later, Santos became the head of the family after his father left as a stowaway on a ship bound for New York City.
Eventually, Santos' father saved enough money to send for the family. At the age of nine, Santos continued his education in New York City, after being demoted to first grade because he didn't speak English. He managed to complete two years in high school and at the age of 14 had to drop out due to the financial situation at home. His father lost his job at the auto factory and Santos had to leave home and go to work full time. The only employment he could get was delivering charcoal and blocks of ice to the tenements in East Harlem. He worked for an Italian man who used a horse-drawn cart to haul charcoal and ice. Santos always remembered that he had to climb many floors to make his deliveries (and when the day was done, he had to give the horse a bath).
Tempered by his extremely difficult childhood and moved by his strong desire to achieve success at something, Daniel Santos was ready to face the tough struggle to become a singer. One day, while singing in the shower, he was heard by one of the members of a local trio. He invited Daniel to sing with them at a family party and that's how his professional career started. He sang with Trío Lírico for a while and then performed with Conjunto Yumurí.
In 1938, Santos was performing at Los Chilenos Club, located at East 116th Street in New York. Puerto Rican composer Pedro Flores came to listen to him, liked what he heard and asked Santos to join his Cuarteto Flores. Thereafter, Flores helped Santos develop his original singing style and provided him with a long series of songs to record.
For the next 54 years, Daniel Santos reigned as a top Latin American entertainer. He toured throughout most countries in this hemisphere and his recordings as a solo artist, as well as with such groups as Sonora Matancera, sold millions of copies. His fans revered him and remained loyal throughout his long career. They shall always remember the heart-felt, straightforward interpretations of El Inquieto Anacobero or El Jefe as he was frequently called. Daniel Santos began singing about aguacates and huevos, as he peddled avocados and eggs on the streets of San Juan, and recorded such eternal songs as Despedida, Irresistible, Perdón, Dos gardenias, Tibiri tabará, and Bigote de gato.
Oscar D'León
A young boy growing up in a family of meager resources dreams of some day becoming rich and famous. Since the educational ladder is frequently not available to him, sports and music are two alternate options. In the absence of athletic talent, he may turn to the music field. In the township of Antímano, near Caracas, Venezuela, there was one such boy. His birthname was Oscar Emilio León Simoza. He told an interviewer that even as a small child, he knew that he was going to be a musician. His mother liked to sing and young Oscar must have internalized her sound waves even before birth. Although he came from a humble, poor family, there was never a shortage of music in the home. As soon as D'León started to work in an automobile plant, he began collecting musical instruments such as congas, timbales, and even a used bass. He taught himself to play these instruments and formed a small band, along with other youngsters from the neighborhood that he baptized "Oscar y sus Estrellas."
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When he lost the factory job, D'León acquired a used car and earned a living transporting passengers on the Antímano to Caracas route. That proved to be advantageous for his musical career. In one of his trips, he picked up a timbalero named José Rodríguez, who commuted daily to his job in Caracas. The two aspiring musicians became close friends and began talking about organizing a band. They recruited other established musicians and in 1973, formed a group called Dimensión Latina. Oscar D'León was the bass player and vocalist. The group attained much success and made several hit recordings. By 1976, D'León had become dissatisfied with the lack of discipline and professional behavior exhibited by several members of the group, and left to form his own band. In 1977, he organized a group that he ambitiously called "La Salsa Mayor." From that point on, Oscar D'León's career skyrocketed making him an internationally acclaimed star.
To date, D'León has recorded approximately 57 albums and has received awards in Venezuela, Panamá, Puerto Rico, Colombia, México, Spain, Ecuador, Canada and the United States. In an article published by "Descarga," George De Stefano wrote:
That cavil aside, it's time to give props to Oscar Emilio
León Simoza, the self-described poor negrito from
Caracas who by dint of extraordinary talent and
determination, made himself an international standard
bearer for classic salsa and his nation's best-known artist.
And if proclaiming himself "El Rey de los Soneros" seems
immodest, then who among his contemporaries has
a stronger claim to the crown?
Ismael Rivera
The lyrics of a popular Spanish flamenco song state: "El día que nací yo, ¿qué planeta reinaría? Por dondequiera que voy, ¡qué mala estrella me guía!" (I wonder what star I was born under? Wherever I go, I'm always led astray by an evil star!) Those very well could have been the words of Ismael Rivera, whose life was full of misfortune as well as success. He was born in abject poverty, became a great entertainer, earned millions of dollars, and died poor in the same humble house where he was born. Even his great talent could not help him break away from the circle of poverty to which his evil star kept him confined.
Luis Rivera Esquilín, a cabinet maker, and Margarita Rivera García, a laundress and housemaid, struggled to raise a family in a slum of Santurce, Puerto Rico, previously known as "El Machuchal." More precisely, they lived on Calle Calma. The small house was home to a family of seven. In addition to the parents, it included their sons (Ismael, Diego and Tommy) and daughters (Laura and Ivelise). Doña Margot, as Ismael's mother was affectionately called, gave an interviewer the following summary of her early struggles, trying to raise her children:
"Years ago, people married young. I married when
I was almost 17 years old and soon had my first child
Carlitos, who died when he was eight months old. I then
gave birth to Ismael and my five other children followed.
I stayed married to my children's father for twenty years.
Eventually, I had to get a divorce because he drank too
much, and had an obscene mouth. I chose to remain alone
and raise my children by myself."
After his father left, Ismael had to work to help support his family. His mother recalls that she had to get a work permit for Ismael so he could work as a shoeshine boy. He was only 13 years old. On his first day at work, he earned 27 cents. Thereafter, he brought home three or four dollars a day. As he grew older, his grandfather taught him to be a stone mason. Rivera became quite good at it and was able to help his mother with expenses.
Popular music was in his blood, however, and he began to sing with local groups such as Conjunto Monterrey. After that, Rivera joined Orquesta Tropicana and a few months later, an eventful reunion with his childhood pal Rafael Cortijo occurred. Together they produced some of the best recordings of Puerto Rican bomba and plena ever made. Rafael Cortijo's group, featuring vocalist Ismael Rivera, became enormously popular. Their personal appearances, radio and television shows and recordings were all extremely successful. Performing in one of those television shows with the great Cuban singer Benny Moré, Rivera's singing moved Moré to call him "El Sonero Mayor" (The Greatest Sonero).
In spite of his great fame and substantial income, Ismael Rivera always remained faithful and grateful to his native neighborhood. He never lived far from the vicinity in which he was born. Doña Margot describes his character as follows:
"He was very generous. Once we were walking down the
street and he saw a poor old man, begging on the
sidewalk. He went over and said: "Come here, old
man, what's the matter?" The beggar answered:
"I'm here just trying to get a few cents to buy food."
Ismael took out $50 and told him to take the money
and go borne. He admonished him to stay home for the
next few days. Ismael promised that if he did that, he
would repeat the gift in the future."
During his tours in Puerto Rico and abroad, Rivera lent a helping hand wherever he saw the need. In some cases he gave furniture, refrigerators and cash amounts, ranging flora $200 to $500, to the needy. Doña Margot said that many times he gave away most of his earnings.
In spite of his goodness and artistic talent, Rivera was tormented all his life by the evil star that hung over him. Bouts with alcoholism and drug use brought him confrontations with the lave. He served prison terms in Puerto Rico, Kentucky and New York. The stigma of being a convicted felon made it difficult for Rivera to perform and record. As a result, the artist who was worshiped by the throngs and whose records sold in the hundred of thousands was broke, unemployed and had lost his singing voice.
Nevertheless, he left a treasure of unforgettable recordings while he died penniless in his humble family home on Calle Calma. It has been said that all things return to their origin and in Ismael Rivera's case it could be said that the evil star he was born under inexorably led him back to his humble beginnings.
Benny Moré
When we consider artists who rose from extremely underprivileged circumstances to achieve great fame, very few had a Moré difficult struggle than Bartolomé Maximiliano Moré, better known as "Benny Moré," who was born in the neighborhood of La Guinea, in the outskirts of the town of Santa Isabel de Las Lajas in the Cuban province of Las Villas. His parents were descendants of the Lucumi people who worked in the sugarcane plantations. Moré's last name was taken from his family's former slave masters. His father worked in the sugarcane fields, and his mother worked in a variety of housekeeping jobs to supplement the small family income. Virginia Moré, Benny's mother, always claimed that his musical talent was inherited from her. She used to sing at house parties and at serenades conducted in the local parks.
There were twenty children in Benny's family, and one can only imagine the hardships that his parents endured in order to support such a large family. As could be expected, Moré had to quit school after the fourth grade and go to work. One of his elementary school teachers said that Moré was extremely intelligent. According to her, he learned mathematics easily, had excellent penmanship, and was a good reader.
Moré was a laborer in the sugarcane fields, and later became a pushcart handler, moving sugarcane and supplies in the sugar mill. All along, he pursued his dream of becoming a professional singer. Initially he sang with his brothers and sisters backing him up, while using homemade percussion instruments. Later, a local musician named Enrique Benítez ("El Conde Negro") taught him to play the guitar. Once he mastered the instrument, Moré became a troubadour, singing for tips in the cafés and on the streets of Havana, where he moved in 1940, looking for better opportunities to develop his career. In Cuba's capital city, Moré experienced hunger and homelessness and slept wherever he could. On a certain occasion, he slept in a rundown small hotel on Bernaza Street and was awakened, early in the morning by the hotel clerk who wanted to collect the room rent of 40 cents. The story goes that Moré rubbed his eyes, looked the clerk straight in the eye and asked him if he was familiar with the Cuban Constitution. The clerk replied: "I know a bit about it." Moré replied: "It must be a tiny bit because otherwise you would know that, according to the Constitution, a man's domicile is inviolable and this is my domicile right now." The man allowed Moré to continue sleeping.
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Moré kept singing for tips in cafés and clubs, and occasionally sang on local radio stations (for which be was paid a few pennies). Miguel Matamoros heard him on the radio and asked him to join the famous Conjunto Matamoros. He performed with them on Havana's station Mil Diez and traveled with the group to Mexico. While appearing in the Aztec capital, Miguel Matamoros suggested that the singer change his name from Bartolo to Benny because in Mexico donkeys are called "Bartolo." When they completed their tour, Benny remained in Mexico.
It was there, in 1949, that he met the great bandleader Damaso Peréz Prado. They collaborated on several recordings that became big hits. After that, Moré's career shot straight up. He recorded with the orchestras led by Mariano Merceron, Arturo Nunez and Rafael de Paz. In 1953, Benny Moré returned to Cuba and organized his "Banda Gigante." He recruited the very best musicians available in Cuba and recorded a long list of hits far too lengthy to mention here.
By the early 1960s, Benny Moré's long history of alcohol abuse began to take its toll on his voice. Unable to sing as well as before, he chose semi-retirement. For the last years of his life Benny Moré lived in a modest home in La Cumbre, a subdivision in the outskirts of Havana. There he raised pigs and chickens to provide meat for his table since meat was scarce in Cuba at that time.
A singer, composer, arranger and bandleader, Benny Moré was idolized by his countrymen, who called him "El Barbaro del Ritmo" (The Wild Man of Rhythm). He died in relative poverty in Havana on February 19, 1963. The Master Entertainer succumbed to cirrhosis of the liver, at the age of 52. Gone was the money he earned during his brilliant career. All he had left were his memories not to mention his chickens and other domestic animals that he raised in his yard and gave him comfort. Ironically, he named them after the famous show business friends absent from his life. And yet, 39 years after his death, his fans still revere him. He has been honored with statues, and there are festivals, streets and recording studios that bear his name.
The artists discussed were all born into cycles of poverty. Their artistic talent helped them to break out and enjoy, at least for a period of their lives, the comforts that fame and wealth can bring.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Latin Beat Magazine
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group
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