son jarocho
Find a Fandango Near You!
If you’ve enjoyed the sounds of Son Jarocho on this blog, I have good news: you don’t have to travel as far as Mexico to hear it played (and danced) live.
As I mentioned in my post on Son Jarocho camp, many of my fellow campers were Mexican-American artists, activists, and musicians living in the U.S. They clued me in to the booming sonero scene back home, where cultural centers, cafes, and nonprofits are increasingly hosting fandangos not only because they’re crazy fun, but because they double as a forum for intercultural dialogue.
And if you go to a fandango, you might just find out about workshops for jarana or zapateado being offered nearby. Fandangos are open to the public, so don’t miss out!
Son Jarocho, Overexposed!
Recently in Xalapa, I found myself in the middle of a heated debate. I was sitting in the colonial courtyard of an artists’ cooperative, surrounded by a dozen local celebrities. They were a mixture of young and old son jarocho musicians who had gathered to discuss “the future” of their music, now that it’s all the rage in Mexican cities. The central issue could be summed up in one question: As metropolitan musicians playing country music, does that make them a ciudad de soneros, or soneros de la ciudad? That translates to say, are they “a city of [authentic] son jarocho musicians, or [somewhat less authentic] son jarocho musicians of the city?”
The debate was a chipper one—as students and teachers of each other, the group was a close-knit community who could take pride in the fact that their music’s biggest problem is overexposure. Still, their concerns were real. Is son jarocho losing its local flavors, now that young people are imitating hit records instead of their neighbors? Is it becoming commercial, now that hit records simply exist, and some fandangos charge a cover? Are fandangos becoming less instructive, now that the next generation of soneros is made up of Guitar Hero-playing, iPhone-addicted egomaniacs, whose shrinking attention spans and inability to hear anything that isn’t blasted through subwoofers mean that they’ve forgotten how to just listen?
› Continue reading
Back to the Ranch
When the band of young Mexican musicians Los Cojolites first started giving lessons a decade ago, their goal was simply to get their neighbors to turn off their TVs and play local music together again. Los Cojolites played Son Jarocho—the traditional music of their hometown in Southern Veracruz—at a time when it was going through a bizarre renaissance in other parts of the country. It had exploded in Mexico’s urban centers and college campuses, and even secured a spot on the “world music” stage abroad, yet it was about to fizzle in its own birthplace.
› Continue reading
New Town, New Guitar
Since moving to Xalapa, Veracruz, I have been studying with a new music teacher: Ramón Gutiérrez of the band Son de Madera. He holds classes in the same workshop where he builds his studentsʼ instruments, like this jarana.
Greetings from Xalapa, the capital of the state of Veracruz! This is where I’ll wrap up the
final months of my Fulbright year (which, for the record, is going by way too fast) by
looking at two very vibrant, and very different, styles of regional music: the son jarocho
and danzón. Iʼm a few weeks into my son jarocho lessons (along with a bunch of 11-
year-olds) and have just brought home my new jarana, a small guitar hand-carved by
my teacher.
› Continue reading
