Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Most Popular

  • Getting Off
    Attorney Tyler Flood says he wins 80 percent of his clients' DWI trials, even if they were 100 percent drunk as a skunk.
  • City of Coffee
    Is Houston about to become America's coffee capital?
  • Houston's Choice for Mayor
    Black Guy, Rich White Guy, Lesbian or Hispanic Republican
  • Looking for a Bull Market
    Killen's Steakhouse in suburban Pearland is probably best during boom times.
  • Burgers and Hash
    Lola, a modern diner in the Heights is dishing up some top-notch Texas short-order cooking.
Most Popular sponsored by

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Houston's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Houston Press

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

Omara Portuondo

Cuban lounge music

Share

  • rss

By Aaron Howard

Published on September 14, 2000

In Buena Vista Social Club, there's a scene in which Ibrahim Ferrer and Omara Portuondo have just finished singing the achingly tender duet "Silencio." As the audience claps, a tear wells up in Portuondo's eye. Ferrer takes a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs away the drop. Tears are expected to flow in Cuban song just as they are expected to flow down a grieving face in real life. That's the way things are. And Cuban music tells of things the way they are, the good and the bad.

Unlike the other son singers in the Buena Vista Social Club, Portuondo has roots in the filin movement of the late 1940s and 1950s. These were small combos fronted by singers, usually female. Filin combos were very much influenced by the American jazz song stylists of the day, such as Frank Sinatra and Mel Torme. Portuondo was a fixture with the Cuarteto Las D'Aida for 15 years, performing in Havana's Tropicana cabaret. When her solo album on Nonesuch was released in May, some critics dismissed it as Cuban lounge music. Hey, that's what Portuondo is all about.

On boleros like "He Perdido Contigo" Portuondo sings with sensitivity, an interpretive imagination and an unfailing sense of musical line. These boleros were her strongest suit in the old days. Many years later, at age 69, Portuondo doesn't sound as if she's lost any of her breath control or timbral shading.