Posted: 08/18/1999

Buena Vista Social Club

(1999)

by Midge Wilson, Ph.D

Most of us harbor two central fears about aging. The first has to do with a decline in our physical appearance, but this will happen no matter what we might choose to do to delay it. The second concern is more psychological, however, and has to do with a loss of our “aliveness.” That somehow as we grow older we will lose our “fun-loving” core, that part of our being that keeps us feeling young. But as Wim Wenders’ new film Buena Vista Social Club makes clear, this second fear need never be realized, even if we’re lucky enough to reach our nineties.

Buena Vista Social Club is the story about the making of the 1997 Grammy-award-winning Ry Cooder-produced album of the same name. Under the skillful direction of independent director Wim Wenders, this obvious labor of love project is so much more. BVSC is a celebration of the human spirit. If you’re familiar with the album, then you know that Ry Cooder, who has collaborated with Wenders twice before—on the sound tracks for Paris, Texas and The End of Violence—went to Cuba in the mid-nineties in search of the “Super-Abuelos” (Super Granddads) of traditional Cuban jazz. This distinct Latin sound can assume many different forms, but each is rooted in the fluid improvisational rhythms known as descarga. This sound reached its peak of popularity in Cuba during the fifties and early sixties but under Castro’s regime, descarga was all but lost to the outside world. And eventually Cubans themselves became too poor to support it. Thus, many of the once great musicians that Cooder went looking for had either died, or had long since given up trying to earn a living in music. Instead, they were doing things like shining shoes on the streets of Havana. But Cooder persevered and did manage to track many of them down, even though some were in their eighties and nineties. And while many had never actually played together before, the result of Cooder’s effort was a beautiful synthesis of different Cuban sounds and styles.

Cooder and Wenders are similar in that they both place the musicians and their music ahead of themselves and their own egos. Thus, unlike Paul Simon and David Byrne, who have in years past appropriated and promoted the sounds and musicians associated with other cultures, Cooder remains more of a background influence than a central figure in the project. This is not to say that his unique slide guitar sound is not a detectable presence, for it is. The same could be said of Wenders’ direction. His choice of grainy outdoor shots perfectly document the look and feel of a time-warped Cuba, and his deployment of a steady cam for the indoor interviews are pure Wenders, yet never do these techniques get in the way of the stories told. By the film’s end, there was not a single performer whose life was chronicled that I didn’t come to truly like and appreciate. Omara Portuondo “the Edith Piaf of Cuba” and only female member of the group remains a sexy performer , Barbarito Torres can still play his laudista, a lute like instrument, behind his back, and was likely doing so long before Jimi Hendrix even picked up his first guitar. And lead vocalist Ibrahim Ferrer and pianist Ruben Gonzalez both teach us that no matter how old we may become, we can still be impish, fun loving, and full of spirit. That’s a pretty powerful reason to see this film, even apart from the fantastic music!

While some people familiar with the album may be disappointed that the film BVSC does not cover more of the songs on the album, as might a standard concert film such as the The Last Waltz, what BVSC does instead is far more interesting. And for those who do wish to hear more of the music, the BVSC band is touring this fall. Don’t miss this rare opportunity to hear a group of performers the likes of which may not pass this way again.

Midge Wilson, Ph.D lives in Chicago and is a member of the faculty at DePaul University.

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