Latin American Folk Music: Mercedes Sosa

Most people in the U.S. are introduced to Latin music in clubs and on MTV, typically to some combination of the Macarena and Livin' La Vida Loca. While American-Latin fusion has its virtues--reggaeton can be fun if you don't wake up to it every morning at 4:30am when you are living in Jersey City above the garage of some idiot who owns a small car, huge stereo system, and a single song (Gasolina)--most gringos are entirely unfamiliar with Latin American folk music. This is a real shame. If you're wondering why, please take a moment to actually listen to Gasolina.*

This is the first of five posts that will highlight some of my favorite artists and songs in the Latin American folk tradition. Each post will highlight one artist and one of their songs that is either particularly emblematic of their style, tells a particularly interesting story, or is particularly beautiful--or (I think) all three.

Before continuing, I should say that these individuals are more than famous musicians; they are also, in many cases, cultural icons and political heroes. As in the U.S., many Latin American folk artists came to prominence during the '60s and '70s. In Latin America, however, these protest singers faced ruthless dictators like Augusto Pinochet, Jorge Videla, Hugo Banzer, and Alfredo Stroessner. Two of these artists I will profile--Victor Jara and Jorge Cafrune--were eventually killed by the governments and individuals they fought so hard to oppose.

1. Mercedes Sosa - Alfonsina y el Mar

Mercedes Sosa can be considered the mother of Latin American folk music. Unlike many female Latin pop stars, Sosa is no chirpy waif; hers is a rich and unapologetic alto. When she performs, her gestures and expressions are those of a poet or flamenco dancer. Watch this video of her performing Gracias a la Vida to see what I mean:



There are two things I love about Mercedes Sosa. The first is her conscious cultivation of a pan-Latin identity; instead of identifying as an exclusively--or even primarily--Argentine artist (Sosa is from the Tucuman province of northern Argentina), she has instead done everything possible to appeal to and identify with a broader Latin American audience. (Check out Cancion con Todos for a more explicit example of this.)

More importantly, though, I love the generosity with which she sings; regardless of the subject matter of her songs--and many of them are sad and tragic, as you will hear--there is never a hint of bitterness in her voice. The best example of this is the song I'll recommend, Alfonsina y el Mar, a song written in memory of Alfonsina Storni, a post-modern Argentine poet. Towards the end of her life, Alfonsina suffered a deep depression triggered by the deaths of several friends (including fellow poet Horacio Quiroga) and her own fight with breast cancer. The day before she died, Alfonsina sent this poem to La Nación (available in English here); the following morning, as alluded to in her final stanzas, Alfonsina killed herself by walking into the sea.

The lyrics (here in Spanish, here in English) of Alfonsina y el Mar are about as sad as you can imagine; they both celebrate Alfonsina and weave in references to her final poem. What most performers miss, though, is that the song is also addressed to Alfonsina: the lyrics comfort her, almost like a child, telling her that she will be safe and happy where she lies:

Cinco sirenitas te llevarán
por caminos de algas y de coral
y fosforescentes caballos marinos harán
una ronda a tu lado.
Y los habitantes del agua
van a nadar pronto a tu lado.

Five little mermaids will take you
Along paths of seaweed and coral
And phosphorescent sea horses
Will swim around you
And the creatures of the water
Will soon play at your side.

When Mercedes Sosa sings Alfonsina, it sounds like what it is--a eulogy and a lullabye. It is a song that is hard to forget, particulary when she is singing it.

If you'd like to hear more, this is the album you need to get. Dan's sister got it on my recommendation a while back and I understand she approves. Other great songs on the album include La Maza and Todo Cambia, as well as all of the songs I've mentioned above. If you just want to get Alfonsina y el Mar, go to iTunes and make sure you buy the one that says "Album version." I haven't heard the other ones and can't guarantee you that some cheesehead hasn't turned up the reverb or put some absurd synthesizer loop over it, as my people are occasionally wont to do.

* Gasolina actually rocks; I just think that (A) my appreciation for it has been significantly diminished by my experiences in the Garden State, and that (B) it would nevertheless be the shame for this to be the only--or rather, most emblematic--Latin song you crazy kids are familiar with.