Music and dancing tradition alive in Cali’s cabaret shows. November 20, 2010. BY DAVE HOEKSTRA .  CALI, Colombia — Salsa was born in Cuba, but it has grown up in Colombia. In the 1930s, a raw form of salsa was heard on the sugar plantations around Santiago de Cali, the third biggest city in Colombia. In 1970, the group Fruko assembled Colombia’s first salsa band after seeing the Fania All-Stars in New York. Fruko was a departure from Cuban salsa with a greater emphasis on cumbia, and their lyrics were more reflective than what  was being heard in Spanish Harlem or pre-revolution Havana.">Music and dancing tradition alive in Cali’s cabaret shows. November 20, 2010. BY DAVE HOEKSTRA .  CALI, Colombia — Salsa was born in Cuba, but it has grown up in Colombia. In the 1930s, a raw form of salsa was heard on the sugar plantations around Santiago de Cali, the third biggest city in Colombia. In 1970, the group Fruko assembled Colombia’s first salsa band after seeing the Fania All-Stars in New York. Fruko was a departure from Cuban salsa with a greater emphasis on cumbia, and their lyrics were more reflective than what  was being heard in Spanish Harlem or pre-revolution Havana.">

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Music and dancing tradition alive in Cali’s cabaret shows. November 20, 2010. BY DAVE HOEKSTRA .  CALI, Colombia — Salsa was born in Cuba, but it has grown up in Colombia.

In the 1930s, a raw form of salsa was heard on the sugar plantations around Santiago de Cali, the third biggest city in Colombia. In 1970, the group Fruko assembled Colombia’s first salsa band after seeing the Fania All-Stars in New York.

Fruko was a departure from Cuban salsa with a greater emphasis on cumbia, and their lyrics were more reflective than what
was being heard in Spanish Harlem or pre-revolution Havana. For example, their best known song is “El Preso” (The Prisoner):

“For me, there is no sky or moon, or stars, for me the sun does not shine.” Hey, that’s just like Chicago in November. Which means it’s a good time to catch Delirio (think delirium). The monthly cabaret mixes salsa with circus, dance and orchestra. Performances are held in a covered outdoor venue in northern Cali (pop. 2,200,000) that holds about 1,000 people.

I attended five hours of a September performance. When I finally left around 1 a.m., performers were still dancing on one of the three stages. The audience was still eating empanadas and drinking from bottles of aguardiente, or firewater, the popular Colombian hooch — 29 percent alcohol — that will knock you out. It’s made with grain alcohol, beet or potato and sugar cane.

Delirio is an intoxicating melange of music and mirth. I heard cumbia, bomba, mambo, cha cha cha and 3/4 bolero. Performers swing from stage to stage on hoops and ropes. There are acrobats and pantomime.

I joined the locals in my attempt to salsa on the dance floor in front of the stage. The aguardiente helped with my dance steps.

The theme of the show was “Orula,” which traces the history of salsa in Cali from the plantations of the ’30s through Cuba, Puerto Rico, Mexico and New York to create a form of salsa that is as unique to Cali as electric blues is to Chicago.

Andrea Buenaventura is the artistic director of Delirio and one of four women who established the cabaret in 2006. “We were seeking vindication of our popular culture,” Buenaventura said through translation in a phone call. “For many years, Cali was identified because of salsa music, but we were losing that. Our goal was to keep the salsa tradition alive.

In Cali, salsa is more than a dance. It is our cultural inspiration. It is a way of life.” Cali is home to 80 salsa schools. There are nearly 30 salsa-only clubs.

Delirio is a non-profit organization. The troupe features 300 people and about 120 dancers between the ages of 7 and 60. Eight musicians and a vocalist accompany the show. The pulsating congas and drums reminded me of the voodoo-like rumba I heard from the legendary Los Papines during the late 1980s at the Tropicana in Havana, Cuba.

“The salsa rhythm was born in Cuba,” Buenaventura explained. “We have to pay tribute to Cuba. But the difference between Tropicana and Delirio is the way of dancing. In Cuba, they move their hands. In Cali, we move our legs and feet very fast.

In Puerto Rico, they move their waist. Got it?”

Well, I was only in Salsa 101 at the Dance Academy of Salsa & Modern Latin Dance in Humboldt Park. I can move my feet.

Delirio’s crowd pleaser was a routine where a grandfatherly dancer taught a playful grandson/nephew character how to salsa.

“Here, it’s not unusual for men to teach boys to dance,” Buenaventura said. “And in Cali, some kids learn to dance before they learn to talk.”

Cali salsa historian Alejandro Ulloa said, “In Bogota, the style was developed from the top of the classes. Intellectuals.

In Cali, it was from the ground up. Hard salsa. Heavy drums. They sing about the joy of dancing and the hard life in the barrio.”

Buenaventura, 44, is a native of Cali. She’s the niece of Enrique Buenaventura (1924-2003), regarded as the master of Latin American theater. A proponent of non-violence, he was also a poet and artist.

“I grew up seeing and feeling salsa music,” she said. “Since my childhood, I have been fascinated by that rhythm.” Enrique Buenaventura’s brother Alejandro greets the audience before Delirio kicks off.

Delirio has traveled to Paris, China and Madrid on Colombian government-sponsored trips but it has yet to come to the United States.

“About 90 percent of our audience is from Cali,” she said. “The rest are tourists from Bogota and other countries. We would love to come to America if we could find an American sponsor.” Information for this article was gathered on a research trip sponsored in part by ProExport Colombia.

Source: /www.suntimes.com/lifestyles/2909864,colombia-salsa-detours-11.article


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