Sunday, March 23, 2014

Merengue: Dominican Music and Dominican Identity


After several months into my merengue 'phase,' I've finally read Paul Austerlitz's book on the merengue. I was a little disappointed by the text's brevity (under 200 pages), but it's a useful introduction to a complex music genre with an extensive history. As a 'national' music of the Dominican Republic that reflects African and European influences, one could research endlessly the various forms of merengue, how it relates to Dominican ideas of race, class, national identity, influences from neighboring Haiti, or the broader Caribbean world, but Austerlitz's book functions as an introductory text that barely scratches the surface. He fortunately does examine how the Trujillato exploited the merengue as propaganda and as part of a nationalistic project, as well as the various phases and influences on merengue music (US jazz during the occupation from 1916-1924, rock and salsa on pop merengue of the 1960s-present, the 19th century influences of contredanse, Afro-Dominican palo drumming and ritual music, the influences of Haitian and Afro-Caribbean immigrants, the increasingly important role of accordion in saxophone in early merengue tipico of the Cibao during the late 19th century and early 20th century, etc). 


Austerlitz also provides a very brief overview of Dominican history, from colonial Spanish Santo Domingo, the importance of slavery and racial mixing, the caudillos of the 19th century (Santana, Baez, Heureaux, Arias), northern imperialism (from the US, Germany, Spain), the preeminence of the Cibao as the greatest region of the country due to it possessing a larger 'white' population, Trujillo's rise to power (1930-1961), political centralization, cult of personality, and the transnational communities of merengue that linked Latinos in New York with developments in music and politics in the DR, etc. We learn that merengue of the Cibao, looked down upon by Dominican elites, became a national 'music' through Trujillo and his brother, who both patronized musicians (such as Luis Alberti, Lora, Trio Reynoso, Antonio Morel) and controlled the music industry until the 1960s, when rock influences and pro-democratic merengue (best represented by Johnny Ventura) paved the way for a 'freer' society) paved the way for true 'pop' music and commercialization unhindered by a dictator's family monopoly of the nation's industries. 


Of course, Austerlitz also clearly and expertly demonstrates how all the contradictions of Trujillo's life and regime were emblematic of the Dominican nation, such as conflicted racial identity that denied the omnipresent Afro-Dominican and Afro-Caribbean influences from within and externally, from Haiti, the obvious African influences in Dominican religious practices and music, including all forms of merengue, anti-Vodou laws passed under Trujillo while he himself continued to observe them, and massacres of Haitians in 1937 while Trujillo and many Afro-Dominicans have Haitian ancestry. In addition, Trujillo himself bridged the divide between merengue tipico and orchestrated merengue that reflected stronger US jazz influences and appealed to different classes of Dominican society because of his relationships and patronage (or that of his brother, Petan) of musicians such as Luis Alberti, Joseito Mateo, Trio Reynoso, and others who composed Trujilloist merengues that celebrated el Jefe. Thus, while Trujillo and even some merengueros denied the African influences on merengue, Vodou and Afro-Dominican musical practices and the Afro-Caribbean cinquillo and instrumentation were always part of the merengue tradition, which was a bridge between secular and ritual music of the Afro-Catholic countryside and barrios. Joseito Mateo, Johnny Ventura, and others, such as Guandulito, sang songs that recalled that African influence (examples would be "Negrito del Batey" and other songs that hinted at Vodou practices, black sugarcane workers in the batey, and regional variations of merengue, such as pale echao. 


While also receiving influences from salsa, Haitian music (Wilfrido Vargas is great example, or Johnny Ventura absorbing rock and US music dance and performance styles, or covering Haitian songs like "Bobine"), and changing over time (dropping accordions in pop merengue and using the saxophone to replace that sound completely, while also speeding up the temple, as in this example), merengue went from a genre that in the 19th century was heard in different Caribbean locales (Puerto Rico, Haiti, DR, Venezuela, Colombia) to becoming a unique international symbol of the Dominican Republic. The genre's simple partner dance, double entendres ("El Jarro Pichao" is one great song exemplifying that trend, here recorded by Angel Viloria, a Dominican merenguero who combined the orchestrated merengue sounds of Alberti with the tipico sound of the Cibao in Nueva York while also becoming extremely popular and influential in Haitian music with his jaleos), light-hearted fun, and new sound became THE popular Latin dance music for Latinos in New York, Puerto Ricans, and throughout the Americas (Austerlitz quotes a Puerto Rican who claimed the merengue as a "Puerto Rican" thing because of its popularity in the island and NYC, especially after the decline of salsa. In addition, the growth of the Dominican diaspora after the fall of Trujillo (particularly in New York) led to a rise in merengue groups in the US as well as the merengue as a 'national' music that Dominican-Americans listened to as an expression of a specifically Dominican culture. 


Where I wish Austerlitz could have gone further in the story of Dominican music is more extensive coverage of bachata, which appears to me to be a more lower-class music that grew after the popularity of Cuban bolero in the DR. His commentary on Juan Luis Guerra and recent developments in merengue are far less interesting to me personally than, say, the early origins of merengue (which are never adequately addressed, and little to nothing is said about Juan Bautista Alfonseca except that "Juana Quilina" is attributed to him) or how merengue was both shaped by and shaped Haitian music. Furthermore, anyone seeking extensive analysis of Haitian-Dominican relations, or detailed examination of the question of race in Dominican intellectual and social history would be better off reading Silvio Torres-Saillant. Furthermore, Austerlitz does not go into the specifics of Afro-Dominican ritual drumming or music, which I suppose one could counteract with Afro Pop's special on the subject, but is still not quite the same as an academic text covering such material. Perhaps my disappointment is really due to Austerlitz not writing about the entirety of Dominican popular music, which Gage Averill did so admirably in the 1990s. 


In spite of its flaws and shortcomings as an introductory text meant to be accessible for mainstream audiences, Austerlitz wrote an entertaining and interesting overview of an important Afro-Caribbean musical genre that I have for so long overlooked. This book is more than worth one's time for a useful and quick read on merengue and how it relates to Dominican identity. 

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