Afro-Cuban Jazz Legend Gets Crowd Dancing

Pianist and songwriter Chucho Valdés and band Irakere 50 bring Havana to Oakland.

· 4 min read
Afro-Cuban Jazz Legend Gets Crowd Dancing
Chucho Valdés (at left, on keys) and Irakere 50 at the Paramount Theatre in Oakland.

Chucho Valdés & Irakere 50
Paramount Theatre
Oakland
Feb. 22, 2025

For the infusion of Afro-Caribbean sounds into jazz in the 1940s, and for our familiarization with the Cuban band Irakere in the 1970s, we owe much to the late trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie.

He’ll be celebrated by fellow trumpeter Jon Faddis at SFJAZZ on March 26. Meanwhile, on Feb. 22, we got to share in the celebration of Irakere’s more than half-a-century of “straddl(ing) the line between instrumental jazz and popular dance music,” in the words of Latin music pianist and scholar Rebeca Mauleon.

She characterized their music as "combining Afro-Cuban percussion with the drum set, electric guitar and bass, [and] a killer horn section that embodied the virtuosity of the bebop tradition along with the contemporary flavorings of [big rock] bands.”

Mauleon, who’s also SFJAZZ’s director of education and community engagement and a faculty member at the City College of San Francisco, was there at the Paramount Theatre to introduce the ten-piece Irakere and its founding leader and keyboardist Chucho Valdés, with whom she’d co-authored the vital Decoding Afro-Cuban Jazz workbook.

The entrance of the 83-year-old Valdés — arrayed in slacks, a long, flowery shirt, and his trademark backwards-turned Kongol cap — had the nearly-packed audience standing and applauding, as they would repeatedly throughout the intermission-less concert.

They continued to clap during “Juana 1600," the first of ten numbers, all but one of them credited to Valdés. By the end of the second piece, “Zanaith,” it seemed to my ears that the grand piano deployed by Valdés was desafinado – slightly out of tune. In addition, some of the horn solos sounded more sketchy than artful. My wife, Louise Whitlock, shared her assessment of this arrangement as “smooth jazz,” a genre neither of us have favored. But there was a certain dusky romantic charm to the ballad.

“Sella va a stallar” is both a musical contrafact of Victor Young’s “Stella by Starlight” from the soundtrack to the 1944 Paramount film The Uninvited (which would have screened at this theater, named for the studio) and an interlingual word play which translates from the Spanish as “Stella is going to explode!”

The long piano introduction by Valdés had me yearning back to a solo concert by this incredibly imaginative and virtuosic pianist, which I’d been lucky enough to witness at SFJAZZ’s home venue in San Francisco some while ago. This ensemble’s subsequent solos over “Stella’s” harmonic changes were perky, though not particularly innovative, while Valdés’ own solo was humorously peppered with quotes from American standards “Getting Sentimental Over You” and “It Could Happen to You,” while at the same time showcasing his bounty of Cuban rhythms and tonalities.

Valdés maintained a powerful approach to his instrument, both hands conveying melody lines separately or in unison. He masterfully signaled transitions to the ensemble, sometimes by standing up at the piano and gesturing, though he’s tall enough, at six-foot-six, to be seen while sitting. From his mic, he conscientiously name-checked each of the players, whose affection in return was tangible.

He continued quoting in “Lorena’s Tango,” but the tune seemed to evoke more flair than finesse. The quicker “Congadanza,” as the title suggested, served to display the thrillingly rapid dexterity and sonic variety of conguero Roberto Junior Vizcaino Torres, and his dynamic duo with drummer Horacio “El Negro” Hernández. But the scattered tenor sax line of Carlos Averhoff Jr. wasn’t very interesting and had me wondering whether some notes were flubbed. Much of the rest of the audience, though, was quite ready to buy into the bravado.

The ensuing couple of numbers temporarily relocated featured trumpeter Arturo Sandoval from his section over to his own mic. Sandoval had been an original member of Irakere in 1973, later leaving (as did Paquito D’Rivera) to build his own stellar career. Holding his horn at his side, Sandoval sang Charlie Chaplin’s 1936 hit “Smile” in a warm baritone-tenor, accompanied by his former bandleader. “Mambo Influenciado” had its own history as one of Valdés’ biggest hits, composed 11 years before the founding of Irakere. It proved an endearing showpiece for both Valdés and Sandoval.

The calidad continued to shine with “Por romper el coco” and the arrival of “special guest” vocalist Cimafunk, an ingenuous singer reinforcing the party atmosphere and the connection with the crowd. The song boasted an infectious melody with a fresh island feel, and included a rousing vocal call-and-response with all the instrumentalists.

“Bacalao con pan” (literally, “codfish with bread”), which launched Irakere in 1973, finished the Paramount presentation with the audience, swept by spotlights, engaged in their own call-and-response (with what sounded like “bacalao, quería darle"), inspired by heavenly repeated horn lines, topped by Sandoval’s stratospheric solos. Valdés rose off his bench and strode over to join his compadres, performing a shuffle in front of the percussionists. The good-humored chaos imported the spirit of the hot melodious sidewalks of Havana, and sent us home happy.

Arturo Sandoval solos on “Mambo Influenciado” with its composer Valdés and his band.

Chucho Valdés, courtesy of SFJAZZ.