Filmmaker in Search of Her Subject - My Trip to Lima, Peru - #2

(my trip to Lima, Peru - continued)

Before going, I’d made plans to meet with the people I was planning to film.  I’d also made contact with others who would provide me with information to deepen my awareness about Afro-Peruvian culture and its performance traditions.

On my first day after arriving, I did a lot of walking to see where I was located, and check out places to eat and purchase groceries.  I found that my apartment was near the lovely Parque Kennedy (Kennedy Park), as well as a supermarket (where I purchased an inexpensive cell phone), and a string of small bars where you could get a decent-to-good meal at a decent price.

Parque Kennedy

Bars along calle Berlin.

An aside here:  before going, I’d been told not to drink tap water or even the wonderful juices that are prepared with fruit pulp thinned by tap water.  Of course the first thing I did in the first little bar I went to was order one of those juices, completely forgetting the advice.  Halfway through, I remembered it and stopped drinking.  I suffered no ill effects and throughout my stay, gradually increased the amount of tap water I drank until I got to the point that I could forget the advice. 

Since different stomachs acculturate in different ways, my experience may or may not be what others will encounter.

On my second full day in Lima, I went to meet Lalo Izquierdo, one of the main subjects of both of the documentaries I was working on.  We arranged to meet in downtown Lima, in an area near the city center.  

Me with Lalo Izquierdo in the patio of the apartment where I was staying.

Rather than taking a taxi, I decided to take the bus.  There was a bus stop near my apartment and everyone was very helpful in advising me which bus to take.

But the line for my bus was, well, seemingly endless.  The buses themselves were very large, but still did not have nearly enough capacity for the number of people who wanted to get on.

A helpful gentleman told me that because of my obvious age (I’m well over 50), I could get at the head of the line.  Almost never in my life have I taken advantage, or wanted to take advantage, of my “senior” status, but one look at that line was enough to convince me it was time to make an exception.

When I got on the bus, there was no seating but since I don’t look frail, no one offered me a seat.  This was no problem;  I am in fact pretty sturdy.

Lots of people in a park for an event;  there were generally lots of people everywhere.

But the result of this bus ride, and the ride back (after having a pleasant and productive meeting with Lalo) was to clue me into something I continued noticing for much of my trip:  the infrastructure in Lima is overwhelmed by the population.  It is a city of a little over 7 million people, about a quarter of the population of the entire country, and a large percentage of these people have only moved into the city in the past one or two decades.

Other evidence of this was the sad state of much of the housing in the immense outlying districts.  I learned that there are a lot of squatters both in Lima and in the countryside who don’t have the means to build themselves good housing (or even to purchase any vacant land). 

In the countryside, I’ve been told that under certain circumstances you become the owner of land on which you have squatted (like the homesteading laws in the United States) but often, people build a very rudimentary house in, say, a semi-desert or desert area (there are huge stretches of desert along the coast of Peru) and then find it too difficult to live there, so they move along to another place, leaving the house – or shack – behind them.

In Lima itself, there are thousands of poorly constructed houses in areas that don’t look like they get too much civic attention.  I’m guessing that the inhabitants are people who do NOT spend a lot of time in the beautiful parks along the seashore.  I would have liked to have investigated some of these areas, including Rimac, but just didn’t have time.  Other than Miraflores, and a couple of bus rides, all I saw of metropolitan Lima was a bit of Barranco (an area where I’m told there are a lot of writers and artists).  I never even saw the main square of downtown Lima.

PHOTO

And I hate to say it, but this kind of ends my experience in Lima.

I’ll write another article about my time visits to the coastal area both north and south of Lima.

Filmmaker in Search of Her Subject - My Trip to Lima, Peru #1

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In December of 2014, I made a voyage of discovery to Peru, going up and down the coast in search of images to complete one documentary and create another.  Both films are about Afro-Peruvians;  one focuses on the dance, history, and music with its connection to Latin jazz.  The other is a celebration of three great percussionists:  Lalo Izquierdo, Juan Medrano Cotito, and Huevito Lobatón.

I’ve talked about the films elsewhere, and you can view their trailers on their web sites (www.AZestforLifeMovie.com and www.MastersofRhythm-Movie.com), so here I’ll give you a travel resumé.

Before going any further, I should explain that I speak Spanish.  My trip would have been very different if that were not the case.  If you don’t already know it, it’s a good language to learn.

Mosaics in the Parque del Amor;  it's hazy but you can still just make out the ocean.

In the week before I left California to board the airplane for Lima, several people advised me to be careful and watch out for thieves.  Frankly, they made me feel a bit nervous about going.  My worries increased when, as planned, I was met at the airport by a taxi driver promised as reliable, and he told me to lock the cab’s doors and keep the windows rolled up.  He then regaled me with a couple of sobering stories of tourists being kidnapped.

After I’d spent a couple of days in Lima, however, I decided that it was unnecessary to be fearful.  Yes, you want to be sure to use a licensed cab driver (and its easy to find one).  And of course you don’t want to walk down the street with your video camera, worth thousands of dollars, in a fancy camera bag that kind of says “steal me.” 

But beyond these and other common sense tips, it’s not a place to be afraid of.

Street in Miraflores with old-style buildings.

All in all, I spent a little under a month in Peru, about two weeks of which were in Lima where I’d rented a room in an apartment in the Miraflores district.  Miraflores, as I soon discovered, is a district on the shore of the Pacific with a lot of tourists, students, and upper middle class housing. 

Rather more modern buildings across from the lovely Parque Kennedy.

The room I rented was in an apartment in a large housing block whose entrance had a guard/concierge at the door.  There was also a dog…an elderly dog who mostly lay in the sun and enjoyed being petted.  A nice dog.

Many people in the apartment block had green and healthy plants in front of their doors.  It was delightful.  And since it was December, not only was the weather very mild (December is summer in Peru) but several of the balconies on the upper stories had been hung with Christmas lights.

Front of one of the apartments with very healthy plants.  That's me, in front.

The apartment was only a few blocks from the ocean, and the coastline is lined with beautiful parks.  I took full advantage of them to go for some very nice walks.  The coast reminds me a little of the coast in the San Francisco Bay Area because it’s frequently foggy.  There is also a high bluff next to the ocean.  I was on top of the bluff and never made it down to the beaches.  After all, I was there to work.

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Eve A. Ma is the producer-director of two documentaries about Afro-Peruvians:  A Zest for Life and Masters of Rhythm.  Find out about these and her other work at www.PalominoPro-signup.com.

"Hatajos de negritos" - an Afro-Peruvian celebration of Christmas

The district of Chincha, on the southern coastal plain of Peru, is a center of Afro-Peruvian culture.  The small towns of Guayabo, el Carmen, San José and others are especially famous for this.

The most important Afro-Peruvian celebration that they maintain is part of the Christmas celebration, in which groups called the hatajos de negritos dance, sing, and parade throughout the night in honor of baby Jesus and the Virgin Mary.  Starting on the evening of December 24th, the celebration only ends on the morning of Christmas day, itself.  

Little boy in costume for hatajos de negritos

The hatajos are composed of men and boys.  The girls have separate groups, called pallas or pallitas, that do their dancing on January 6th.  Both practice for months in advance.  The hatajos are accompanied by men carrying statues of the Virgin and baby Jesus.  They go from town to town, and stop at the homes of people who have arranged in advance for them to come there.

In these homes, first they dance for baby Jesus in front of images of the nativity scene, then they are invited to eat, and rest a bit before going on to the next home, or the next town.

In the procession, the group dances as a whole.  In front of the nativity scenes, they do individual dances - dances of zapateo fancy footwork.  Many of them are incredibly skillful and it is a real pleasure to watch them.  I have not personally seen the celebration on Christmas Eve or Christmas day, but I have watched them practice and have also seen performances of zapateo in which two dancers enter into friendly competition with each other.  

The two zapateo masters.

My first documentary about Afro-Peruvians shows quite a bit of the hatajos de negritos, while the second one has a great zapateo competition between two masters:  Huevito (Freddy Huevito Lotabón) - three-time winner of the national Peruvian zapateo competition - and Lalo Izquierdo, a master dancer.

Incidentally the first documentary is called A Zest for Life:  Afro-Peruvian Rhythms, a Source of Latin Jazz while the second is Masters of Rhythm with addendum.  Check them out!

And if these topics interest you, or if world music and dance in general interests you, sign up for my newsletter.  This is one of the things I specialize in.  (You'll also get a free video and some music when you sign up.)
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The author of this article is filmmaker Eve A. Ma.  She makes documentaries, dramas, and experimental shorts;  and is a former history professor and director of a non-profit cultural organization.  She considers herself to some extent an international version of the late documentarian Les Blank.

The best laid plans of mine and men...

I just spent about a month in Spain.  My plan was to spend 10 days working on Flamenco:  the Land Is Still Fertile (Flamenco:  la tierra está viva) and then, since co-director Antonio de la Malena was scheduled to go on tour in Mexico, I'd spend another three weeks, well, having fun:  a bit of editing, a bit of checking out lead mines (lead mines?  Yes, lead mines), a bit of flamenco dance lessons, a few days in Paris and plenty of just hanging out.

Manuel de Malena with guitarist Malena Hijo

However, Antonio's tour to Mexico was cancelled at the last minute and so I got to - WORK.  The whole time I was there.

And I must say, we did get a lot done.  We filmed the very fine (and famous) flamenco guitarist Diego del Morao playing a solo, and also interviewed him on camera.  We filmed the very fine (and also famous) flamenco singer Manuel de Malena singing a solo, and also interviewed him on camera.  We conducted a second interview of the very important figure, former guitarist Manuel Morao.  We interviewed critic Estela Zatania.  We interviewed Mila Méndez, a nice of the great singer, la Paquera (and Mila sang a little for us in the style of her aunt).  We got some editing done.  I filmed some lead mines near Córdoba, in a small city called Linares.

Diego del Morao getting his microphone attached.

Lots of work!  But in fact, it was a trip well spent - and I did get a few days in Paris at the end.

When I say "we," it's because the contributions of every crew member, plus all the talented people we are filming, are essential to the project.  This includes is our new sound tech, Carlos Pérez, who comes down from Sevilla to work with us;  along with camera operators Eve A. Ma (yours truly) and Roberto Aguilar;  lighting tech Sergio Monja;  and of course our fantastic co-directors Eve A. Ma (again) and Antonio de la Malena.  Plus most of the time we also have a boom operator.

Co-directors and part of crew work out a problem.

How the (Afro-Peruvian) cajón entered (Spanish) flamenco - part 2 of 2

When I told this story to some flamenco friends, they said “we heard a different story” and recounted how Paco de Lucías’s percussionist (a palmero - a person who does the hand-clapping that is the usual accompaniment for traditional flamenco) went to Perú where he “discovered” the cajón, bought one, and brought it back to Spain.

Well, I was surfing YouTube one day, and happened across this video in which Paco de Lucía confirms Lalo’s story;  if you don't understand Spanish, you'll just have to take my word for it:

Paco de Lucia explaining how he was introduced to the cajón in Peru.

Again, for those of you who can read Spanish, this interview with Caitro Soto adds more detail LINK. 

Apparently, el Comercio, a newspaper in Lima, arranged for Paco de Lucía to explain how he learned about the cajón by watching Caitro Soto (and others) at an after-party, and then purchased one, which he gave to his percussionist.  LINK.  According to Paco, it was easier for flamenco percussionists to use the cajón than to do the traditional palmas (hand clapping), which is why the cajón caught on so rapidly.

So there you have it.

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Author Eve A. Ma, who dances flamenco, is the producer/director of two documentaries about Afro-Peruvian music and dance.   Lalo Izquierdo appears in both;  here's a LINK to one of them.   

Keep up with Ma's work:  http://PalominoPro-signup.com

NOTE:  this article first appeared in the on-line magazine, www.SomosPrimos.com.  It is reprinted here with permission.

How the (Afro-Peruvian) cajón entered (Spanish) flamenco - part 1 of 2

If you are either a flamenco aficionado or a cajón enthusiast, here's a story that you will enjoy.

I consider myself fortunate to have a friend, Lalo izquierdo, who is a master of the Afro-Peruvian cajón (or, if you will, the Peruvian cajón)., a percussion instruments that you see in almost every Afro-Peruvian performance, in much of Latin jazz, in other styles of jazz and in modern flamenco.

Lalo is a percussionist, a dancer, a choreographer and a folklorist of his Afro-Peruvian community.  He lives in Lima, but has spent many months in the United States.  I have seen – and filmed – him in both places.

Lalo Izquierdo with a quijada de burro

Once, he told me a story about how the Afro-Peruvian cajón became incorporated into flamenco.  He said that he along with others, including Caitro Soto, were enjoying themselves in an after-performance party for Paco de Lucía, a seminal flamenco guitarist then on tour in Peru.  Lao, Caitro Soto and others started playing the cajón and Paco de Lucía came over.

Lao Izquierdo playing the cajón

Paco was very, very interested.  He wanted to know more about the instrument and its capacities.  At some point, Caitro Soto offered him one, and he accepted.  Later, he purchased another one.

And that's how the (Afro-Peruvian) cajón entered (Spanish) flamenco.

(Don't forget to read part 2!)

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Author Eve A. Ma, who dances flamenco, is the producer/director of two documentaries about Afro-Peruvian music and dance.   Lalo Izquierdo appears in both;  here's a LINK to one of them.   

Keep up with Ma's work:  http://PalominoPro-signup.com

NOTE:  this article first appeared in the on-line magazine, www.SomosPrimos.com.  It is reprinted here with permission.