When Roberto Fonseca came to the Buenavista Social Club to replace the irreplaceable,"the distinctive and refined touch of maestro Rubén González-, he already qualified as a hope accepted in the field of Cuban jazz, given that, together with saxophonist Javier Zalba, he had been heading a group called Temperamento since 1997.

Time passed and the pianist grew in mastery. He saw the world and took careful aim. He worked less on the keyboard to grow more, on the basis of a criterion in which the foundation of tradition supported imagination and improvisation.

The jump became quite plain if we compare his first album En el comienzo (1998) with Akokán (2009). And not because he had good foreign allies, like Cape Verde’s Maya Andrade, who contributed her charisma to the piece "Siete potencias" or the voice of Raúl Midon, from the United States, in "Everyone deserves a second chance".

At least, a talent expressed with a voice of its own is revealed, without complexes or prejudices, in two moments -"Drume negrita" and "Como en las películas"-, taking different dynamics as a starting point.

To make the story short, it seems that Fonseca has learned something not everybody is clear about: playing too much is not the issue, like he has tried to do sometimes, but having things to say.

If I were the author of Temperamento, the film produced by the Cuban Film Institute -shown by invitation only on June 17 at the Chaplin movie theater and to be premiered on June 24 at the Riviera movie theater- I would have brought up the matter, among other issues of interest from the universe of Cuban jazz, like the relationship between tradition and present time, or between the starting point and the point of arrival.

But Jorge Fuentes, a seasoned producer of documentaries and of a fiction series I like a lot, Cabinda, was more interested in atmosphere than in reflection, in the range of sound than in investigation, without leaving out either of them.

That’s why Temperamento gets to your senses through your ears, even though it’s abounding in convincing images "photographed by Justo Fuentes and edited by Juan Carlos Llapar, somewhat rhythmically related with the very nature of jazz creation.

The public will particularly appreciate this documentary by Jorge Fuentes: the expert here and there, those who listen to the excellent program by the CMBF radio station almost at midnight, or watches A todo jazz at an uncertain hour of the television programming, or visits the Fine Arts Museum on Saturdays at nightfall, or the ALBA Cultural Centre when there’s an offer, and misses the real possibility of having access to the Jazz Café or La Zorra y el Cuervo; the public that goes to the patio of the Association of Cuban Writers and Artists in Santa Clara or longs for Alberto Lescay’s idea of opening a promotion centre for the genre in eastern Santiago de Cuba province to bear fruit once and for all.

And that other public, out of our country, which knows that jazz lives among us and multiplies no matter what, in arts schools or in Santa Amalia, combined with the rumba or with symphonic music.

Let’s hope other Cuban jazz performers of the new generation find their Jorge Fuentes. Because this is not a moment for nostalgia, but of feeling the pulse of times of extension and changes in the scenario of a genre to which we have contributed talents and concepts.