S&P México

S&P México. Doing this class was a great pleasure—un gran placer.  An extension of Songs & Places: American Roots, it made absolute sense, especially here in California, where so many speakers of Spanish continue to make their homes. (I say continue, because if we go back to before the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, in 1848—or beyond  that, even to the very earliest layers of Mesoamerican myth—this land is still México. And it shows. Pull up to a stop light on the edge of Richmond, and the car next to you may well be blaring rancheras—or take a walk on the automobile-adorned  streets of San Diego, and many of your passersby will be talking together in Spanish—if not one of Mexico’s numerous (at one point some 200) indigenous languages!)

But not just a pleasure, an honor, really. And maybe something of an obligation—given my year (now many years back) as an AFS foreign exchange student in La Plata Argentina—so that the castellano comes naturally. And with all the students here at Berkeley who also come from Spanish-language homes (often first-generation) it seemed there might well be an opportunity—maybe even a need—to explore these roots together.

So I set about learning the songs—which makes for a good story, starting with discovering Chavela Vargas in the mid-1990's. An architect friend, Rodolfo Machado (from Argentina, and then a grad student at Cal) had told me about her 20 years before—she was one of his mother’s great favorites. So when I saw a Chavela CD at Down Home Music (near my new studio in El Cerrito), I remembered—and her strange, wonderful, compelling voice became a true part of my life.

But Chavela was an immigrant herself (from Costa Rica to México City, as a girl)—and this proved yet another route in. Her interpretations becoming over time the revered versions of some of México’s very best popular songs. (La Llorona, Cruz de Olvido). You could come from afar and still find great meaning in the local. Or, you could cross borders and still return to your roots. Or carry them with you, even to the next generation.  And as a teacher, you could share all of this!
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The photo above shows our first song book, from the 2013 class. (I need to thank Vreni and Valdemar, now my close friends—for being so instrumental in making that semester happen!) The artists you see form a kind of who’s who of Mexican popular music (the roots thereof)—but many of the students who showed up for the class didn’t even know their names. How could they, when their own immigrant experience—the dislocation, and the assimilation into the new culture—meant that these old songs had gone by the wayside. (They did, however, often  know Selena, Chalino Sánchez and others I’d yet to learn.) “A mi abuelo le van a gustar!” (My grandpa will like them!)  I heard this more than once. However, when we actually listened closely, learned the words—and found that they were also ours to sing—a connection took place--one I’ll never forget. Vreni, Doha, Everto hustling up to join me in the front one evening—to lead us in José Alfredo, El Rey—because the song was importante. And it was important that we get it right!

I loved their passion (whether acquired, or home-grown, it didn’t matter)—and the way the songs made everyone feel alive in this new home…

¡1México lindo y querido!  Y California también...

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Coda. I speak of the songs--canciones mexicanas--and they remain central (Paloma Negra, Ella--Farolito, y las demás)) but of course we covered a great deal on Mexican culture in general. Including the student's own understanding of it. Reading focused on Octavio Paz--El laberinto de la soledad (The Laberinth of Solitude), a masterwork, written in 1950, but still essential. It's Paz's compelling psychoanalysis of mexicanismo... Rightly or wrongly, since México Profundo followed (Guillermo Bonfil Batalla's book on Mexico's own willful disregard (social, political, cultural, economic) of the ongoing remnants of Mesoamerica--that so much of the earlier civilization continues, despite mestizo Mexico's looking away. And looking away towards what?--that's the question.

The Octavio Paz was one chapter a week, read slowly, for discussion in parallel to the songs.

And by reading both works back to back we had two essential points of view--along with Yolanda Moreno Rivas' Historia de la música popular mexicana, from 1979--an excellent overview, covering virtually all of the artists we listened to. (But which, because of its early date, leaves out the more recent mixtures of genre--Mexican, non-Mexican--that characterizing the music today. A film like Coco proving the exception in some strange way... Remaining very true to the local... which is one reason I think people have liked it so much--Mexican people included....


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