Another “exhumation” in Cuban music

Almost a quarter of a century after the Buena Vista Social Club phenomenon, Cuban culture is once again faced with the realization that others are smarter or quicker than us looking for and finding jewels in our closets, and making them shine in the world's showcase . They continue to be ours but the finding is pointed out by someone else, building with them a story in which we do not participate. The archaeologist takes the floor to speak for and about the unearthed amphora, which remains mute under the spotlights of intense light.

That said, rather bitterly, let us celebrate the appearance, in the world's showcase, of the book Cuba. Music and Revolution. Original Album Cover Art of Cuban Music at the end of last year. Those responsible are the Frenchman Gilles Peterson —DJ, label owner and record collector in London— and the American Stuart Baker —musician, composer and music producer—; while the publishing house is the London-based Soul Jazz Books, which declares itself associated with Soul Jazz Records. It is distributed by none other than Thames & Hudson, which rounds off a very good framework for this volume.

From what the cover and the preliminary pages propose, it is worth commenting on a couple of things. Title and subtitle deliberately invert the order of priorities, in order —I think— to achieve a greater impact on sales. Instead of “Cuban music covers. Cuba, music and revolution”, they quickly choose to associate the book with these last three words. They are undoubtedly more striking than “covers”, although the reader will find that inside, cover designs for Cuban LPs. By the way, of all the possible options, the publisher did not have preference with a particular musician or group to build the cover, but chose a fragment of the disc IV National Festival of Fans of the FEU (Areito / Egrem, 1976). We can assume that with this he sought to resemble the visual code that, especially thanks to the poster, identifies Cuban graphics that emerged with the Revolution. The cover also defines the period covered in the selection: from 1959 to 1990, that is, from the appearance of the Revolutionary Cuba until the disappearance of the vinyl record on the Island. Finally, in what we call the cover (which has been page 1) a small line clarifies Licensed from Egrem. It is assumed that the publication is the result of collaboration with the dean of our record companies, at least in terms of access to images and data.

The book has the very generous 30 x 30 cm format, which seems obvious but is appreciated, and a very convenient hardcover binding. The content strangely dispenses with the index, but I can say that it opens with an introduction signed by Baker, which is followed by a chapter with comments and images of Cuban record production in the Republic. The central body of the book is structured chronologically by decades (60s, 70s and 80s), and notes are interspersed on specific topics such as Latin music in New York in the 60s, Nueva trova, Latin jazz, Experimentation in the 70s, Afro-Cuban roots in the 80, and an amazing Santería and communism. Since I am not a specialist in music, I refrain from commenting on these divisions or the criteria that are expressed in them. Throughout the 256 pages, 350 post 59 covers are displayed, plus another twenty from the previous decade, most of them large, which I can only describe as a true feast of images.

In the respective introductory notes, the compilers declare their passion for the music of this Island and recount their experiences learning and producing alongside their Cuban peers, since 1995 Baker, and since 2008 Peterson. They do not allude to the designs included in the book or to their specific motivation towards the recorded music-illustrated music relationship. The question of why these were chosen and not other albums remains in the air. Since I don't know the complete universe of Cuban discography between 1959 and 1990, I don't know what percentage these 350 designs represent. I am inclined to think that there must be many more. In that case, knowing the curatorial criteria of this selection or accepting that what is presented to us is a mixture of musical representativeness and basic visual appeal becomes relevant. This is a functional criterion to meet diverse expectations. As the axis that organizes this book is the art of sounds in time and not that of images in space, it is understandable that care has been taken not to leave out “infallible” genres or artists. In short, what we are being told is more about the music recorded on records than about the images that promote, from the covers, said recorded music.

Each disc has a photo caption that includes the design and photography authorship. These are very useful data that do justice to these creators. Unfortunately, such information is not always known, or was not thoroughly sought to offer it. A good part of the discs omits it. I want to believe that it is recoverable in the original production sheets.

66 female designers and designers are represented in this book. Some are very prominent figures in Cuban graphics, especially poster artists, such as Antonio Pérez Ñiko, Eduardo Muñoz Bachs, Alfredo Rostgaard, Faustino Pérez, Antonio Fernández Reboiro or Umberto Peña. There are also those who worked more assiduously in the design associated with the national discography. It is very likely that —without daring to assert it, I am only advancing the criteria— names like Miguel Cutillas, Aldo Amador, Silvio Gaytón or Pablo Labañino are responsible for much of the most outstanding graphic design in this area.

The photographers and the photographers also have their valuable part in this story. In the list of the 37 represented, Alberto Korda, Osvaldo Salas and Mayra Martínez stand out, along with Mario García Joya mayito who seems to be one of those who had numerous and outstanding commissions from the record companies.

The back cover note of Cuba. music and revolution points out that this is “the first book on the design of Cuban record covers, and it presents hundreds of surprising and unique designs rarely seen outside of Cuba. (…) The cover design helps to document the dramatic change in the image of Cuba, from a tourist paradise in the 1950s to a socialist state.” The first is unappealable. This volume opens a drawer unexplored until now and also has the merit of doing it with respect and good editorial packaging. The second, on the other hand, is just an intention not supported by analytical criteria. Another book, hopefully ours, should try to explain how that image transformation that took place in the 1960s is reflected in Cuban discography; if it was about changes in graphics, colors and fonts or communication concepts; if it was the result of individual talents or a collective tendency; if, ultimately, it responded to an institutional mandate or emerged in auspicious creative environments.

In which another one arrives tomorrow, let's enjoy the splendid book that has appeared today. By publishing these covers, their authors reveal and preserve an important part of the visuality of our discography, and testify to how graphic design tried —and managed, I would say— to be on a par with the musical richness of Cuba.