Esther Borja: eternal star of Cuban lyrical art

By Lidice Valenzuela

Cubanow.- Esther Borja is one of the all-time greats in Cuban lyrical music.  At 90, she’s in fine shape: her mind is clear and her spirit is alive; she’s alert and talkative, and capable of going into details about things that happened 50 years ago.

She lives in Havana’s Playa neighborhood, in the same house she bought in the 1940s for her mother -with savings from her South American tours. At her home, there’s a huge dog that frightens you when you arrive but cries when you leave. Esther, dedicated to the care of her house, is also busy with her many plants and flowers. 

Her flowers are celebrated in the neighborhood for their beauty and style: there are big rose bushes in the garden; one of them, with yellow roses, keeps the ashes of a Cuban she met during one of her recent trips to New York –a city where she performed, singing lyrical music, when they were actually expecting a scantily dressed rumbera.

For Esther, who retired when she was still at the peak of her career, loved by her people, rest is something relative. She’s constantly being invited to take part as a guest in different cultural events.

It’s impossible for her to keep still very long, in spite of her grandchildren’s scolding (they visit her every day). With her friend, pianist and composer Cuca Rivero, she tours the island every time she has a chance.

In her modest but well decorated two-story house, Cubanow talked with this unique artist to whom many tributes are being paid this year on the occasion of her 90^th birthday.

She fondly remembers the ceremony in the famous Tropicana nightclub -where she arrived in a century-old horse-drawn carriage- while they played the song Master Ernesto Lecuona composed for her and which has always identified her: Damisela Encantadora.

LV: You succeeded in Cuba but also abroad.

EB: Well, I traveled in the company of the great; led by the hand of the Lecuona brothers, along with Ignacio Villa, Bola de Nieve; I traveled to Argentina, Chile, Peru, Uruguay and Brazil and was a hit in theaters and radio stations. In Argentina, with Lecuona and Bola de Nieve, I took part in the film Adios a Buenos Aires. Libertad Lamarque, Tita Merello, Tito Lusiardo, Alfredo De Pera –composer of excellent international tangos interpreted by Carlos Gardel- and Rosita Moreno, were my stage companions there. When I returned to Cuba, I joined the cast of the Principal de la Comedia and Marti theaters, which were then the Mecca of lyric art in Havana.

LV: When did you travel to New York?

EB: I arrived in the United States in 1943; Lecuona took me to perform in Spleinway Hall, in New York, where I was auditioned and signed up by famous operetta composer Sigmund Rombers. Rombers presented me with his giant orchestra in Carnegie Hall and it was a great hit. That linked me to the famous musician. I successfully performed in 44 American states. But, I told Lecuona: “Americans are mistaken if they think I’m going to dress like a rumbera, move my ass and play maracas. Nothing doing. I performed under my conditions and my opinions were respected.

LV: How long did you stay in the United States?

EB: Five years, always a success with the public, the critics and the ticket-box.  I also recorded some discs with American companies. Then, I decided to return because I’d been away from my family for a long time. You also have to give warmth and affection to your homeland. When I returned to Havana, I started to work in TV programs like Show del Pueblo, Noche de Ambar Motors, and Parece que fue ayer, among many others, with Ernesto Lecuona, tenor Miguel Angel Ortiz, pianist and conductor Armando Orefiche, and composer Frank Dominguez.

LV: You had your own TV show.

EB: In 1961, the show Album de Cuba, which was on the air for 23 years, made its debut. Many famous and also young beginners were featured there –they all cultivated Cuban music. There’s an idea now for doing another Album; but I don’t know, I haven’t made up my mind yet. It was a good program that left a mark on TV-viewers and artists.

LV: How did you actually become a singer?

EB:  My mother always insisted I study to become a teacher. But, at the same time, I studied piano and singing. And, in 1935, I met pianist and composer Ernestina Lecuona, Ernesto’s sister. That’s how I met the Master, who also became my great friend. He tested me. And soon I became part of what many called “Lecuona’s girls.” Lecuona always did me credit. Besides, he knew what song was best for my voice, for its range. That’s why I was a success, because I never did anything out of line. I never pushed my way into anybody else’s territory.

LV: And, when did you make your debut?

EB: In 1929, but I actually succeeded in 1935. Ernesto and Ernestina introduced me in the musical events of those times. Three years before, I had finished my studies in the Centro Gallego’s School of Music. After that, I even studied dance. It wasn’t that I wanted to become a cabaret star but I do think an artist should have all the knowledge required to be on a stage.

LV: Did you become famous right away?

EB: No, fame came with my performance in the Lola Cruz operetta, by Lecuona and Sanchez Galarraga, where for the first time I interpreted the Damisela Encantadora waltz –my favorite. The Master composed it especially for my voice –a light mezzo-soprano.  

LV: Do you have any favorite kind of music in lyric art?

EB: No, I’ve sung Cuban and Spanish zarzuelas, operettas, songs, many songs. But I must say that I’ve always demanded good lyrics. I never was capable of singing a silly, empty song.

LV: Is it true that you have your own method for interpreting songs.

EB: Yes. When they give me the lyrics of a song; I read them once, and then once again. I hum them. And I try to find the most moving features and make them break through to the public. Once, I was singing Adios juventud and I became aware of the fact that there was something missing in my interpretation. I let my eyes roam the public and I saw a lady who was discreetly drying her tears, while she pressed her companion’s hand. That’s it, I thought, that’s what this song is about, so deep, so sad. That was my key. There aren’t great or small songs. But, there are great and small ways of interpreting them.

LV: What do you think of the new Cuban female lyric singers?

EB: I think some are very good. Especially a girl called Barbara Llanes, who surprised me. She’s wonderful. Right now, she’s the best lyrical voice in Cuba.

LV: Do you think lyrical art is important now in Cuban culture?

EB: Sincerely, I don’t. It is true that lyrical theater shows are very expensive, but I think artists and directors are not being very creative. You can offer individual recitals, duets… People are eager for that art and the proof is that when they feature a show, the theater is packed. But we are lacking systematization. They sing once or twice a year. And the artist is really made on stage.

LV: Why did you retire so abruptly?

EB: Actually, I had never thought about retiring. But, one day, during a rehearsal in the Buenos Aires theater, I heard a voice that told me: it is time. I was astonished because I really knew what that voice was talking about. I calmed down, and when I went on stage I told the audience: ask for any song you want tonight because I won’t be singing anymore. People were amazed. I was 70 and I hadn’t left the stage for the last 56 years.

LV: Did you sing again?

EB: No. Event organizers don’t give me a chance to get bored. Besides, I have my home, my grandchildren. My daughter has been living in New York for some years.  Either she comes or I go. She scolds me because she says I’ll get lost in New York. And she doesn’t realize that I know that city from one end to the other. In fact, in the US, I go many places she’s never even heard of.

LV: Do you miss your past life?

EB: Not at all. My photos are there, showing how I was a complete artist, never a bohemian. I was always decent with everybody. The public always loved me. I’ve received all the honors you can imagine from Cuban cultural institutions. I have the love of my own people. Why should I miss it?

Nacido en la villa de Guanabacoa, cuna tambien de otros famosos artistas como Jose Echaniz, Rita Montaner e Ignacio Villa "Bola de Nieve", Lecuona se destacp desde muy ninq como un artista de facultades portentosas para la creation musical y el piano.

Ya vemos que apenas de cumplir tres lustros de su existencia fecunda, da aeonocer su inmortal danza cubana de.concierto titulada "La Comparsa", definiendo un estilo nuevo y peculiar en este genero glorificado por Manuel Saumell e Ignacio Cervantes.

Puede afirmarse que el melodismo espontaneo pero de secuencias bien desarrplladas, la variedad gen&ica y estilistica de sus creaciones (de un contenido muy peculiar por lo personalisimp) y una riqueza ritmica des-bordante y original, son los atributos mas importantes y comunes en la vastisima production de Lecuona.

Miisico de su tiempo, Lecuona supo inspirarse en las fuentes populares originadas en el siglo XIX (siglo en que se Integra la nacionalidad musical cubana especialmente en los generos instrumentales como la contradanza, la danza y el antologico danzon) y robustecidas en la era republicana, para expresarse muy acendrada y ejemplarmente en todas las formas, gene­ros y estilos conocidos (ademas de los por el creados) del caudaloso acervo popular y vernaculo cubanos.

En cada una de las formas y estilos musicales en que Lecuona se expres6, dejo mas de una pagina maestra y que inevitablemente hay que incluir en cualquier trabajo musicologico serio que sobre nuestro patrimonio popu­lar y nacionalista (por sus Danzas para Piano) se realice.

La versatilidad creadora del guanabacoense de fama universal hace dificil senalar su "especialidad", pues si dentro de los canones del teatro lirico sento precedentes (su "Nina Rita" —en coproduccion con el malogrado Eliseo Grenet— es reconocida como la precursora del teatro lirico cubano) y cumbres tan senaladas como "Rosa la China", "El Batey", "Lola Cruz" y "Maria la 0", tambien en todos los generos del cancionero criollo y de la danza pianistica, e incluso de formas hispanicas (su "Suite Espanola") y centroeuropeas (sus Valses Tropicales), Ernesto Lecuona ha sentado cate-dra en la mas alta consideracion popular y musicologica.

Pero es posible que en sus Danzas para Piano Lecuona haya logrado su mas elevada e importante aportacion a la musica cubana, a pesar de la fecunda contribucion rendida a nuestro cancionero y teatro lirico.

Partiendo mas de Marin Varona ("Tropicales para Piano") que de sus antecesores Saumell y Cervantes, Lecuona le impartio a la clasica danza novocentista un desarrollo mas amplio (en su forma), sin despojarla de

sus giros melodicos de origen cortesano, vigorizandola ritmicamente me-diante el uco reiterado de celulas ingeniosas como muy originales.

Ernesto Leucona y Casado was born on August 6, 1895 in Guanabocoa, a village near Havana, Cuba. His oldest sister, Ernestina, introduces him early to the piano, an instrument which Ernesto shows astonishing talent for. At just 7 years old, the sudden disappearance of his father, director of the periodical “El Comercio”, forces him to help contribute to his family’s income by playing piano in the fi rst silent theatres of the capital. However, from 1904 to 1907, he attends the “Conservatory of Carlos A. Peyrellade”, where he strikes up a strong friendship with the young Rita Montaner, who would soon become a central figure of Cuban poetry. The following year he publishes his first work, a two-step titled Cuba y America. Next he studies for several months with Antonio Saavedra, disciple of Ignacio Cervantes, and between 1908 and 1909 he works at the Teatro Martì. Here, particularly attracted to the opera, he puts on his first musical comedy, Fantasia Tropical. In 1910, he becomes the pupil of Joaquin Nin and later of Hubert de Blanck, the Dutch composer who migrated to Havana, and who in 1885 had founded the “Conservatorio Nacional” in the capital. In 1912 he composes his first ballet, La comparsa, which marks the beginning of his most original musical pursuits. His teacher, de Blanck, takes strong interest in Ernesto and convinces Ernesto’s mother to keep him far from the responsibilities that could have taken him away from a musical career. In 1913, eighteen years old, Lecuona receives his piano teacher’s diploma and solfeggio at the “Conservatorio Nacional” receiving the gold medal in his class and public praise from his teacher, who declared to the “El Figaro of Havana” that: “Lecuona is an extraordinarily brilliant student, highly gifted with a perfect temperament.” Olga de Blanck, daughter of the master teacher, stated: “My father said that Ernesto Lecuona was exceptional because he possessed an absolutely natural relaxation and fl exibility at the piano; he had no idea what it meant to be rigid.” Along with his study obligations, Lecuona also manifested an interest in popular music and organized a little orchestra that performed in the first cinemas and dance halls. Nevertheless, in 1916, he left Cuba and moved to New York, where a year later he recorded his fi rst record, which included Vals España, and other ballets among which were La comparsa. In 1917, he made his debut at the Aeolian Hall with his personal compositions and those by other masters. In 1918, having returned to Cuba, he opened the “Instituto Musical de La Habana”. In 1819, he wrote his first professional opera, Domingo de Piñata, which was performed at the Teatro Martì with lyrics by Mario Vitoria. In the same year, he presented En recluta del amor, written together with the poet Gustavo Sánchez Galarraga, who would also become his great friend and collaborator. In 1923, Lecuona performed the Concierto Tipico Cubano for the fi rst time at the “Teatro Nacional”. Two years later he went to Madrid for some concerts in which he introduced, among others Levánate y Anda, a distinct piece destined to be performed over 1,000 times. Starting in 1927, his ideas about the opera entered into a more mature phase: the themes are more articulated, the choral songs are more numerous, and the libretto is no longer a mere succession of songs. With Rita Montaner as the principal performer, Lecuona presented nine pieces, among which were Es Mucha Haban, La Revista Femenina and above all Niña Rita, extracted from a song by Grenet, with which began the golden era of Cuban opera and the rise of Rita Montaner. In 1928, invited to Paris as a pupil of Joaquin Nin, he performed some of his ballets in a private recital in the “Gaveau Hall”, an exclusive space for famous composers and performers among which included Maurice Ravel, with whom Ernesto studied for a brief period. His first important composition, Malagueña, successfully presented at the Roxy Theatre of New York in 1927, was received by Ravel with this comment: “I feel that Malagueña is more beautiful and melodic than my Bolero.” Also Siboney, published in 1929, immediately declared it a classic of Latin music, performed everywhere by numerous artists and big bands. From that moment on, Ernesto Lecuona was nicknamed “the Cuban Gershwin”. Following the great success of the “Havana Casino Orchestra”, the first big Latino group to play in the USA, Lecuona formed his own ensemble, the “Orquestra cubana”. Curiously, he wasn’t the pianist in the group (he limited himself to only playing his personal works): the role was entrusted to Armando ‘Fichin’ Oréfiche (1911, Havana), together with whom Lecuona wrote various popular melodies played by the group. In 1934, during a tour in Spain, Lecuona was forced to withdraw from the Orquestra and return to Cuba for health reasons. So the group changed its name to “Lecuona Cuban Boys” and, under the direction of Oréfi che the trombone player Ernesto “Jaruco” Vàzquez, did resumed an extraordinary European tour that lasted until the start of World War II (Armando Oréfi che and his brother, Adalberto Chiquito, later left the group due to internal disputes and founded the “Havana Cuban Boys”). Ernesto Lecuona rarely played in public after the war. He chose to live in his farmhouse in Havana, where he dedicated himself to gardening and to breeding tropical birds. Even if he earned a lot of money, he preferred a simple lifestyle: he didn’t drink alcohol but was a big coffee drinker, and he was willing to travel endless miles in order to avoid taking an airplane. He was proud of his roses and of his fruit trees, and he was also a passionate poker player. He detested politics but was notoriously generous: he organized and fi nanced, with his own money, various artists’ associations lacking in public fi nancing. In 1955, together with the maestro Gonzalo Roig, he founded the Sociedad Nactional de Autores de Cuba, devoted to protecting copyrights of local musicians. When Fidel Castro came into power, Lecuona left Cuba for good. He settled in Tampa, Florida. On vacation to visit his father’s native country, he died on November 23, 1963 in Santa Cruz de Tenerife, in the Canary Islands. His death was caused by an asthma attack, a disorder which had persecuted him his entire life. He was buried in the Westchester cemetery, in New York State. Ernesto Lecuona wrote more than 400 songs, 176 pieces for the piano, 50 theatrical pieces, 31 orchestral works, 11 soundtracks for the cinema, 5 ballets, one trio and an opera. But it is above all the hundreds of interpretations of pieces such as Siboney, Para Vigo Me Voy (Say Si Si), Canto Karabali (Jungle Drums), Maria my Own (Maria La O), La Comparsa and Malagueña that helped him achieve his international popularity. Musically, his work for the piano introduces elements of remarkable originality despite having dealt in a non-avant-garde ambient (which Lecuona did not like, despite actively having supported the initiatives of contemporary music played in Havana. To the influences of the “refi ned” music of the first half of the century, he adds a re-evaluation of the Spanish tradition, and additionally Cuban, in a classical key. His attempt, certainly achieved, at integrating rhythms and traditional melodic expressions with the structures of the late-Romantic writing for the piano, is of absolute interest. The movements of dance, always present, mix themselves with the classical forms of the prelude, that echo the influences of Debussy (very evident, for example, in Ante el Escorial). Similar hints at the piano compositions of Chopin are again found in the formulas that accompany the Waltz, while in frequent virtuoso passages, typically lisztiane ideas are recognized. The melodic expressions are surprisingly concise. It’s often a matter of measures that do not exceed one or two beats and, markedly in the Cuban inspired pieces, the density reached is almost extreme. It’s a precise aesthetic choice: they are not works to dance to but to listen to, and they make one think of the synthetic compositions of Bartok, inspired by Balkan rhythms. Not be undervalued is his important infl uence as a musical composer for the cinema: typically “Hollywoodian” harmonies, such as the Preludio a la Noche or the central part of Ante el Escorial, attest to the versatility and the openness of his compositional style. Nevertheless, Ernesto Lecuona can be legitimately included in the diversifi ed group of Spanish language composers that, from the popular tradition, derive an intense repertoire of ideas which enrich the music of the elite, along the course already en route at the beginning of the modern era of composers such as Oritz or Soler, without overlooking the Spanish by adoption, Scarlatti and Boccherini. Lecuona was also an enchanting pianist and the live recordings of his performances remain an extraordinary testimony to his talent. The collection, “The Ultimate Collection” (1954) presents the best of his work and the 14 tracks of his second disk, recorded at the end of the 1920s, are extraordinarily fascinating due to their dynamism, inner rhythm and expressive scale of sound. The experts were impressed by the ability of his left hand, that seemed to touch the piano keyboard almost as though caressing the skin of a drum. When Arthur Rubistein heard him play Malagueña, he exclaimed: “I don’t know whether or not to admire the genius pianist or the sublime composer”. And when, with the Symphony Orchestra of Los Angeles, he played Rhapsody in Blue in the presence of the composer, George Gershwin embraced him with great emotion in front of an enthusiastic audience. His Latino style profoundly impressed both European and American listeners and was an immediate fascination for many big bands. The American pianist Thomas Tirino has contributed to his revival in recent years. Tirino, who with considerable effort conducted his piano rolls and the first recordings by the composer, has managed to reconstruct the authentic versions of many of his original pieces.