Cuban pianist Valdés to reveal his new ‘Creación’
In 1970, at a jazz festival in Poland, pianist Chucho Valdés’ life would change practically overnight.
At that festival, he and his quintet unveiled an ambitious new work, “Misa Negra,” which married the percussion and musical idiom of traditional Yoruba religious masses with jazz. Back then, Cuban jazz had been built from the ground up after a one-time governmental ban on jazz music; the kind of Afro-Cuban jazz Valdés played, which deeply tapped into its West African roots, was even more of a novelty.
That day, “Misa Negra” went over many listeners’ heads. But the folks who mattered heard it loud and clear. Dave Brubeck, Valdés’ musical idol, caught him after the performance and encouraged the 27-year-old to keep spreading the gospel of Afro-Cuban jazz. Valdés’ quintet, at that time linking up on an ad hoc basis, decided to get serious. Within a few years, they would grow into Irakere, the blockbuster band that became an avatar for Cuban and Afro-Cuban jazz throughout the world.
More than 50 years have passed since “Misa Negra,” and with them have come several Grammys and mononymous renown in the music world. But one of Valdés’s other major milestones has been more private: He was consecrated as a santero, or priest, in the Santería (Regla de Ocha) faith, a syncretic religion combining Yoruba, Roman Catholic and Spiritist tenets.
Valdés returns to the spiritual ground he first tilled in “Misa Negra” with his new “La Creación” suite, a Symphony Center co-commission to be performed Oct. 18. Mostly composed during the pandemic lockdown, “La Creación” is written for a sprawling band of four trombones, four trumpets, five saxophones, two keyboards, bass, three batá players, drums, percussion, a vocalist and Valdés on piano — one of the pianist’s most ambitious works yet.
Valdés spoke to the Tribune about “La Creación” the day after his 81st birthday. His son, Julian Valdés Salcedo, interpreted the conversation, which has been edited for clarity and length.
Q: As I understand it, your grandmother was very Catholic, but your grandfather went to African Yoruba masses. How did that mix of faiths play out in your family, growing up in Cuba? A:
The Cuban church at the time had a lot of Spanish influence. Cuba’s religious leader at the time transplanted the African saints into the churches — (the religions) became almost the same thing. That’s how it happened with each and
every one of the saints. It was accepted by the people, but many always retained their Yoruba beliefs. (My family) came out of the same fusion. My name, for example, is Jesús, but my roots are African! Soy un “mix.”
Q: You first explored the Yoruba mass more than 50 years ago in “Misa Negra.” That was a watershed work for you. Why did you write that piece, and why then? A:
At that time, I already had a deep knowledge of the Yoruba religion, but I wanted to express with music how a Yoruba mass felt. In that piece, we only
speak Lucumí, which is the Yoruba language, and we included batá (doubleheaded drum) touches to represent the Yoruba orichas (divine spirits). I had been to many Yoruba masses, but many people hadn’t at that time.
Q: What Santería spiritual elements are in the work? And how did you approach them musically? A:
Pretty much the goal of “La Creación” is to show the history of each oricha and their function on Earth. The “creator,” the most important god, is called Olodumare. I added the batá touches and singing for each saint. We also show how the religion expanded throughout the Caribbean.
Q: You’ve also called it your most important work yet. Why? A:
When I made “Misa Negra,” I was not consecrated as a santero. That happened many years later. That’s when I went more in-depth into my knowledge of the religion. That gave me the experience necessary to write the piece.
Q: Again, you wrote this at a different time of your life, compared with “Misa Negra.” How would you
describe your spirituality today? A:
It’s very deep. I’ve studied more. I’ve been to Africa. I’m a santero, a son of Obatalá (creator of human bodies and whose domain is the sky or heavens). Obatalá is one of the most influential orichas in the Yoruba religion. He is my guardian angel.