I had just arrived at Alain’s house to play a tambor-a ceremony featuring batá drums in the Regla de Ocha religion-when I saw him helping another man carry some sound equipment, including speakers and a keyboard case, to the back door. Alain Fernández, who is my padrino in Añá (i.e. he initiated me as a batá drummer), looked at me and grinned widely: “It’s a surprise!” It was his wife María’s cumpleaños de santo, or anniversary of getting initiated or “crowned” with her patron orisha, Eleguá, and one of her goddaughters had hired some extra musicians as a surprise for her. Guests were gathered by and inside the back door of the house, which entered into a room with a trono, a large altar featuring the porcelain soperas (pots) of several orishas, each on a pedestal, with Eleguá, the orisha that represents doors, crossroads, and trickery, in the middle. Colorful curtains hung all around and above the soperas, and covering the floor below them was an enormous quantity of fruits and pastries on straw mats.
Normally in a tambor, the only musicians are the drummers and the singer, so I was perplexed by the presence of extra musicians, whom I assumed must be performers of popular music. There were only two—both Cuban and elegantly dressed—and they quickly set up their equipment on one side of the trono, facing it. As they began to play a few minutes later, I realized this was a violín!
A violín is a type of musical ceremony in Regla de Ocha performed for Ochún. As the name suggests, the ensemble features one or more violins, often accompanied by an acoustic guitar, various percussion instruments (often bongó or tumbadora along with clave, bells, and shekere), and at times another melodic instrument, such as a flute. Violines for Ochún are common in Havana and Matanzas, and are also performed in religious communities outside the island, including New York, Miami, Puerto Rico, Venezuela, and Mexico. According to Alain Fernandez and Lali Gonzalez Brito, this type of musical ceremony is an invento—a uniquely Cuban invention–likely first appearing in the 1980s or early 1990s, although other sources claim the first violín occurred as early as 1941. It is thus a rather recent phenomenon compared to the standard tambor or güiro (musical ceremony with chékeres, tumbadora, and hoe blade used as a bell).
Due to the violin’s association with elegance and the European art music tradition, the instrument’s sweet melodies were seen as fitting for Ochún, the orisha representing feminine beauty. Unlike other more established musical ceremonies, the violín repertoire is less standardized and highly variable. The combination of strings and percussion lends itself to the interpretation of Cuban popular music, and somewhat resembles the sound of a charanga. Songs can be performed in the style of son, guaracha, rumba, chachachá, güiro, or danzón, and Catholic hymns are also included. Regional variants exist as well. For example, in Puerto Rico, I noticed the inclusion of instrumental Puerto Rican danzas. The violín that I saw in Miami, however, included some modern, unique adaptations of the repertoire.
Here, as usual, the violín was in honor of Ochún, who is María’s other “parent” orisha in addition to Eleguá (in Regla de Ocha, practitioners discover who their secondary “mother” or “father” orisha is in addition to their patron orisha when they are initiated). The musicians started out, as they often do in violines, with a slow, lyrical, instrumental version of the Ave María (a short video of the musicians performing for another client is available here). The violinist took the lead, passionately moving her head with her instrument as the melancholic melody produced an emotional response in the audience. The violin’s melody was supported by chords from the keyboardist and a pre-recorded musical background emanating from two large speakers.
Indeed, this was the primary instrumental format for the remainder of the event: the violin supplied the lead melody, the keyboard provided some chordal accompaniment, and the rest of the music was comprised of a pre-recorded midi tracks, most likely created by the musicians themselves. These tracks were stored on the keyboardist’s phone, which was connected—along with the violin and keyboard—to a small mixer-amplifier.
As previously stated, the repertoire of a violín is highly variable, and yet there are certain conventions. They tend to start out with an Ave María and then progress to songs for the various orishas, beginning of course with Eleguá. Unlike the orisha song repertoire used in a tambor, in which songs are performed by the akpón (lead singer) in a fairly strict order and strung together in performance chunks called tratados, in a violín there is a much smaller selection of orisha songs. These tend to be songs that are popular with santeros and easy to sing along with. Furthermore, they are performed as stylized adaptations to the violín’s instrumental ensemble, meaning that melodic and harmonic instruments are added, and the underlying rhythms are often borrowed from son, rumba, güiro (drum and shekere ensemble), or bembé. In fact, some of the songs are even borrowed from popular music, such as Celina y Reutilio’s “Que viva Changó.” Such songs have orisha themes but are sung in Spanish and are not used in other, more serious musical ceremonies like tambores or güiros.
In this particular violín in Miami, the Ave María was followed by a few songs for Eleguá. The instrumental midi tracks and keyboard provided a harmonic background, which made it easier for audience members to sing along to the song selections, which were well-known by the santeros in the room. Meanwhile, the keyboardist acted as a lead singer, responding vocally to the audience’s choruses, albeit with simple, repetitive improvisations rather than the active “talking” in ritual language that an akpón does. At other times, the violinist filled in the space of the lead vocals with an improvised variation of the melody.
To provide a specific example, one of the Eleguá songs began with a 6/8 bell part and a batá-like drum rhythm in the midi track, accompanied with harmonic and melodic backing in the midi track, keyboard, and violin. The keyboardist introduced the song for Eleguá and the audience responded. The violin then took the place of the lead vocals, alternating with the chorus, sung by the audience. After several repetitions of this, a new chorus was introduced, and the harmonic and rhythmic accompaniment changed to that of salsa, with some timba-esque characteristics. This inspired the audience to dance (as individuals, never as couples) and clap along even more. Several of the orisha songs progressed in similar stylized manners.
It is common in violines to include traditional chachachás, danzones, and even current popular song adaptations.
This violín was no exception, although the availability of speakers and recordings eliminated the need for adapting popular songs; they simply played the real recordings instead of the midi background tracks. Thus, interspersed with these orisha songs were current popular songs (mostly reggaeton) for the audience to dance and sing along with. While these were generally for dancing and audience enjoyment, they were also relevant to the religious occasion, as many already had references to the orishas or other elements of Afro-Cuban religious beliefs. And for those that did not, the keyboardist introduced them by changing the words of a song’s chorus.
For example, at the very end of the violín, following a closing song for Eleguá, they played the extremely popular song “La gozadera,” by Gente de Zona and Marc Anthony. Apart from referencing Miami in its primary chorus of “Miami me lo confirmó,” the keyboardist-singer made slight changes to the lyrics that were humorous and served to adapt the song to the current local and religious context. That is to say, instead of the song references to places like Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic, he exchanged these for “Hialeah,” or “el souwé” (the southwest part of Miami), as the audience laughed and sang along. Other humorous lyrical swaps included “agua florida dondequiera” or “cascarilla dondequiera” (both references to religious items that santeros use frequently) instead of “y el arroz con habichuela.”
This violín not only represented a modern variation of the ensemble and repertoire, it was an economic adaptation as well. The musicians were able to provide the service with only two performers, and with the help of amplified sound, they were able to perform comfortably to the accompaniment of pre-recorded tracks, changed with the touch of a finger. While the limited equipment made for quick setup, track lists enabled streamlined execution, and the availability of recordings of current popular songs made it easy to please the audience.
Aside from being able to make more money per person with two, rather than four or five musicians, the group was also highly adaptable, as was revealed when they handed out their cards at the end and told those interested that they also performed at weddings, parties, and other social events. The addition of reggaeton and timba to the violín repertoire by this duo capitalizes on the musical tastes of many Miami Cubans, and yet it also represents a new evolution in violín performance. If violines for Ochún already incorporate the son, guaracha, chachachá, and danzón of past generations, why not include the reggaeton and timba of the current one?
Featured Image: Throne (altar) made for a violin for Oshun in London, 6 September 2012. Photo by Martin Tsang.