Adeline

"Adeline" is a classic méringue by François Alexis Guignard, the leader of Jazz Guignard in the 1930s. Named for his daughter, the song remained in the repertoire of Haitian dance bands for decades after the heyday of Jazz Guignard. Through Guignard's two sons, Felix and Edner, his influence on Haitian popular music persisted through groups such as Jazz des Jeunes and Hotel El Rancho's band. This version of "Adeline" by Webert Sicot, adds a extra layer of sound through two saxophones playing with and against each other, adding some jazz phrasings here and there. Quite beautiful. 

Douze-et-Demi

Eructation pénible

du saxophone

qui crache

dans le soir lourd

des notes discordantes.

Dans la salle basse,

où flotte,

dense, 

un parfum de luxure

les couples

se trémoussant

au rhythme de la méringue

exhalent l'âcre odeur

de bêtes en rut. 

Et dans le coin ombreux

qu'illumine

son sourire de noire, 

je tâche d'étouffer

le spleen

que me tue.

The above poem, by Daniel Heurtelou, was published in La Revue Indigène. Unsurprisingly, the indigenist publication welcomed contributions such as the above, which immersed themselves in the folkloric and cultural practices of the masses. It is also a priceless account of the douze et demi balls popular among the working-class quarters of Port-au-Prince since the late 19th century. In J. Michael Dash's Literature and Ideology in Haiti, 1915–1961, he translates a section of the poem and highlights the eroticism and debauchery of it. The nightclub scene, melancholy, and undeniable sexual character of the the scene exemplify this. However, the poem is also a useful description, from a presumably bourgeois poet's perspective, of popular urban music of the 1920s. The use of saxophone, references to the meringue, discordant notes, and heavy odor of the venue are striking visual cues to the douze et demi balls of the era. 

According to Georges Corvington, the douze et demi balls arose in the second half of the 19th century. Because the cost of admission was douze et demi, they received said name. The earliest ones mentioned began with Carnival bandleaders who formed more permanent groups that performed regularly on Saturday evenings in Bel-Air and other neighborhoods. Corvington identified one of these pioneer Carnival bandleaders as Destiné of Bel-Air. In the 19th century, the previous instrumentation of these bands usually contained violin, clarinet, tambourines, and triangle. Presumably, other instruments associated with Carnival bands or parades could also be heard, such as banjo, guitar, mandolin, accordion, or  The favored dance was the "bambocha," noted by Corvington to be a relation to the meringue. However, since Carnival music in Bel-Air and other non-elite areas of the city were more likely to incorporate African traditions and elements of Haitian music, it is probable that these douze et demi orchestras did, at first glance, come across as "rough" or "discordant" compared to the elite balls, salons, and masquerades. 

Daniel Heurtelou

Intriguingly, Heurtelou's poem indicates the use of saxophone in these bands by the 1920s, although they were still performing meringues (perhaps more akin to the koudyay Carnival styles). New instruments that were also used in bands performing Cuban music or American jazz may even indicate the intrusion of said styles in the douze et demi bands. With the growth of Port-au-Prince during this time of US Occupation and further centralization, packed dancehalls providing entertainment for the urban lower classes would have been necessary. Furthermore, Haitian poets making literary use of this development perhaps mirrors that of African American poetic incorporation of blues and jazz elements. This cheap entertainment's appeal to hide or assuage the melancholy of the narrator may speak to his alienation under US Occupation, or, perhaps, the effects of US capitalist penetration into Haitian society. In short, much could be made of the use of free verse, the origins of the narrator's melancholy, and transformations in urban music during this era. 

Quinze jours au Cap-Haitien

One of the interesting Haitian salon meringue compositions from the early 20th century, Quinze jours au Cap-Haitien by François Manigat sounds somewhat like a rag. Information about Manigat is scarce, but the introduction of the piece does suggest a ragtime influence. This indicates the degree to which Haitian musicians were following US music. 

Gallop

The Duroseau family's approach to Haitian mereng was of the sautant variation. Like Théramène Ménès, the Duroseaus saw the meringue as similar to the two-step and notation in 2/4. If there really were 3 different types of meringue (lente, "lively" and carnavalesque), the meringues recorded by Fabre Duroseau fall in the lively camp. This, in turn, means they were likely intended for dancing. They also sound somewhat like ragtime, which may not entirely be a coincidence as some Haitians were inspired by African American music. Ford Dabney, a black American composer who lived in Haiti for a few years in the beginning of the 20th century, is an example of the interest Haitians held in ragtime. Additional highlights from Haitian Piano include "Jeannette" and "Un Soir #2." The latter is more of a meringue lente with the typical grace and elegance of the genre. Some hints of jazz and ragtime can be heard. 

Les Zizipans

A mereng composed by the head of the Musique du Palais, Occide Jeanty. According to Corvington's history of Port-au-Prince, Zizipans was the Carnival band of Georges, roi du Oual-Ouadi, who came to Port-au-Prince from the countryside at some point in the late 19th century. Thus, the song may represent how carnival musicians in the late 19th century sounded, even if the Musique du Palais was a military band. Indeed, the song does sound sound something like a Carnival band marching through the streets.

Haitian Merengue with Astaire

Enjoy a Haitian merengue from Fred Astaire that actually sounds like merengues from Bebo Valdes. 

Yon Ti Secret

Danielle Thermidor's "Yon Ti Secret" has been stuck in my mind this week. It's a very 'Latin' sounding song with an older meringue aesthetic I adore.

Francis Santana, Haiti, and Colombia

Francis Santana, accompanied by Antonio Morel's merengue orchestra, sings a Haitian song in Kreyol that I first heard from Pepe Bayard, "Trois Bebes" (though I believe the song predates Bayard and Gary French). The earliest recording of the song appears to be from the 1950s Haitian Dance Bands Vol. 1 compilation. In addition to the Dominican merengue cover, a Colombia cumbia version can be heard here.

Issa El Saieh et Son Orchestre

Came across some lovely recordings by Issa El Saieh and His Orchestra of Haitian music in a jazz or big band vein. In addition to the classic "Carolina Cao," Issa El Saieh's group also recorded "Ma Brune," "Panama m tombe," and a hot number called "Ti Mama." "Ma Brune" is an excellent example of a Haitian song translated and recorded recorded by Sonora Matancera as "Morena."

Orchestre Tropicana

A beautiful song. Also, if you listen to "Petit Jean" you can hear "Maquino Landera," a silly bomba immortalized by Cortijo y su Combo in 1950s Puerto Rico. This band clearly listened to music from Cuba and Puerto Rico...

Vive Le Football

An interesting ode to football in honor of the World Cup. Enjoy!

Musical Link Between Issa El Saieh and Damiron

Listen to "Le Patua" by Damiron, a piano master of the Dominican style of merengue, and compare with Issa El Saieh's "La Sirene La Baleine." I'm not sure who recorded what first, but it seems unlikely that two artists active during the same era (roughly) would record songs with the same melodies without knowing it. Indeed, Damiron's "Le Patua" even hints at Haitian influences (patua is the language of papa, of mama, etc.) while "La Sirene" reflects Vodouesque and folkloric influences in Saieh's jazzy orchestrated style. Regardless of who influenced who, it's quite clear that some of the merengue artists of the Dominican Republic were listening to Haitian orchestras and Haitian mereng. 

La Dangereuse

I found an interesting version of "La Dangereuse" by Ludovic Lamothe! Clara Rodriguez and her friends were wise to add the flute, which complements the lyrical beauty of this song while employing the quite Latin American cuatro. This Venezuelan pianist knows how perform Latin and Caribbean classical music.

Ludovic Lamothe and Haitian Classical Music

I don't listen to much classical music, but I've been meaning to give a try to more black classical composers. I've read a little about some Haitian figures, such as Occide Jeanty, Ludovic Lamothe, Justin Elie, and Frantz Casseus (I especially love Casseus for using Haitian folk and Vodou songs, though I don't think one can always paint him as classical). Ludovic Lamothe, known to me through Largey's book on Vodou and music in Haiti as well as the recordings of Alan Lomax in Haiti in the 1930s (he recorded "Nibo" and perhaps another song or two of Lamothe's), sounds like Chopin at times whereas in other compositions, he uses Carnival and mereng influences. Apparently Lamothe was a "full-blooded negro who shows outcroppings of genius."

Here, I found an online version of "Nibo" recorded by Lamothe himself to share (it was covered by many others and was the most popular carnival song the year the US ended it's occupation of Haiti), and here is one by another group. According to Gage Averill and Largey, the elite that for the most part listened to classical music in Haiti could enjoy a Lamothe mereng because they were usually of the slower kind, meringue lente. "Nibo" is a reference to a Ghede spirit of Vodou who guides the dead to the afterlife. Perhaps part of the song's popularity spoke to the future exit of American Marines from Haiti, as in the death of American occupation and Nibo as taking away the dead?

Yet they were also popular with the masses, because Lomax recorded a rendition of the tune by a popular music band in 1936 or 1937. Martha Jean Claude sang "Nibo" as well on a Cuban release. Claude's version is quite rousing, with minor tones, lots of rhythm, back-up vocals, and hypnotic guitar and haunting sound effects.Last but not least, check out Edner Guignard's version, which sounds like a konpa period album with Cuban and American jazz influences in the band. Love those drums! 

The above video for the most part does not include anything characteristically "Haitian" or Afro-Caribbean for the most part, unfortunately. "Danse Capois  ('Scenes De Carnaval' No. 4)" does suggest a Caribbean Carnival, however, and "Danse Espagnole" does less so. "La Dangereuse" is another mereng composed by Lamothe, but unfortunately I have not found a recording by Lamothe himself. This video of an adolescent playing the mereng lente is probably a little too fast, but sounds beautiful. 

One of these days I hope to finish Largey's book and write a review for this blog. As a last recommendation, check out "Valse aux Etoiles" and "Libellule" here. The album, Fleurs d'Haiti is also worth checking out for some more of Ludovic Lamothe.