Notes
Desperately Seeking Conga [this is a section heading -- NH]
As an aspiring jazz drummer in the late 1980s, I was exposed to "Latin Jazz" through iconic recordings made by Dizzy Gillespie and Chano Pozo, Machito and his Afro-Cubans, Tito Puente, and others. I soon became aware that most of these "Latin" rhythms were really "Afro-Cuban" — traditions that had developed in Cuba's Black communities over centuries and that had clear West African and Central African influences. In my initial studies of Afro-Cuban percussion in New York in the 1990s, I was exposed to the "canon" of Afro-Cuban drumming styles: rumba, palo, bembé, abakuá, comparsa and the complex rhythms of the sacred Yoruba batá drums. These styles, which developed in Havana and Matanzas in Western Cuba, continue to dominate representations of "Afro-Cuban rhythm" in and outside of Cuba.
In my exploration of Cuban music, I did come across occasional references to the autochthonous music of Oriente (Eastern Cuba). While reading the liner notes to the 1981 Folkways album Carnival in Cuba, I came across a transcription of "conga de santiago," a genre strongly associated with carnival parades and the Black community in Santiago de Cuba, the island's second largest city. According to the author, "The distinguishing rhythmic feature of the Conga de Santiago is that its main accent falls on the offbeat after the fourth stroke, as opposed to the offbeat after the third stroke, as in a typical Havana comparsa rhythm" (Schloss, Carnaval in Cuba); see example 1.
I was already familiar with the "typical Havana comparsa rhythm," also known as conga habanera, which had inspired Hollywood's "conga lines" and their famous "one, two, three, kick!" routine, but I was intrigued by its less famous counterpart from Santiago. I asked around but couldn't find anyone in New York who knew much about the conga santiaguera. Starting in 2000, I took several trips to Santiago to learn about its unique conga.
Overview of Chapters
Part 1, "Building the Groove," presents a musical and historical analysis of the conga genre as it emerged and developed between roughly 1900 and 1939. I use the "build" analogy to describe the process of adding reinforcing and contrasting layers to the "groove" — the "melorhythmic" amalgam of recurring patterns that characterize a genre. According to Nigerian scholar Meki Nzewi, "melorhythmic" refers to a "rhythmic organization that is melodically conceived and melodically born" (24). This term is apt for conga and many diasporic styles because of their emphasis on timbre, articulation and composite drum melodies. I use amalgam to connote the integration of component sounds to yield a unified whole which is greater than the sum of its parts.
"Building the Groove" consists of three chapters. Chapter 1 discusses the Afro-Cuban musical background that flourished in Santiago between 1700 and 1900, with an emphasis on accounts of prominent 19th century comparsas. Chapter 2 discusses the conga's early historical development and the emergence of prominent rival ensembles in the Los Hoyos, Tivolí, Guayabito, and Mejiquito neighborhoods. Chapter 3 reviews the innovations that drove the conga's transition from its "early" to "modern" versions between roughly 1929 and 1939.
Part 2, "The Modern Conga," is an overview of the conga genre from roughly 1940 to the present, focusing on the period from 1950 to 1999. In contrast to Part One's chronological structure, this section focuses on general tendencies with less emphasis on exact dates. Chapter 4 discusses a "model groove" which approximates musical practices that have become common in Santiago since around 1950. Chapters 5 through 7 discuss the three corners of the modern "conga triangle:" Paso Franco, Los Hoyos, and San Agustín. These chapters present an exploration of the groups' multifaceted musical and institutional identities, which have been shaped and expressed by public displays, songs, percussion styles, innovative individuals, and histories which assert originality and deep connections to Santiago's Black communities.
The “origin story” of the conga santiaguera is subject to much dispute, with different communities constructing and disseminating competing narratives that enhance their prestige as pioneers and long-standing tradition bearers. I do not always seek to judge these narratives for absolute accuracy, but to trace their trajectories and understand their importance.
While the conga is an inherently communal effort, an overemphasis on community can overlook the individuals whose innovations have had a lasting impact on the music. Part 2 and its associated video clips explicitly challenge this anonymity by celebrating the creative Black musicians, families, and communities that have nurtured the conga. No account of the conga could include every one of the thousands of musicians who have played and sang on the streets of Santiago. For every great player mentioned here, I omit dozens; I include certain individuals because their names came up repeatedly.
Videos
Throughout this site, I provide links to original videos which feature experienced congueros (conga musicians) demonstrating and discussing their craft and honoring legendary artists. The heart of these videos lies in the poignant testimonials which demonstrate profound love for the conga and a strong commitment its history.
Notation and Terminology
One of the main goals of this site is to be accessible to a general audience of musicians and music enthusiasts. To this end, I will use the terms "main beat" or "beat" and "subdivision" that are widely recognized by musicians. I will use the "1 e and a" system to refer to specific subdivisions of the beat. For ternary subdivisions (12/8 and 8th note triplets in 4/4), I will use "1 and a, 2 and a," etc. (see example 2a). In addition, I will use "straight," or "onbeat" to refer to sounds which align with main beats and the traditional term "syncopated" to refer to those that do not. Based on over twenty-five years of listening and extensive study with musicians in Santiago, I can confidently state that the most accurate way to represent and analyze conga in written notation is in 4/4, with four main beats per cycle and each beat divided into four, yielding a total of sixteen subdivisions per cycle.
Rhythmic Archetypes
James Burns defines a rhythmic archetype as “. . . a commonly used rhythmic formula that exists on both the surface-structural level, occurring within various parts of a music ensemble, and the deep-structural level, where it serves as a prototype for a multitude of possible variations through changes in pitch, timbre, and rhythm" (1). The author's thorough analysis shows how common archetypes clearly connect many styles of Afro-Diasporic (A/D) music.[1] I will draw on archetypes of my own, as well as those discussed by Burns and David Peñalosa, throughout this essay to analyze the conga and compare it with other styles.
The sequential hemiola pattern (x.x.x.x..x..)[2] can serve as a paradigmatic model for many timeline patterns and balanced rhythmic structures in the Black Atlantic (Nketia 79-83, Temperley 80-81, Gerstin 38-39). This pattern, like many timelines and other phrases in A/D music, can be split into two complementary halves: a "syncopated half" or "three side," whose three evenly spaced notes in this case create a simultaneous hemiola with the main beat; and a "straight half" or "two side," which tends to reinforce the beat.[3] Examples 3a-3f present this pattern, its quarternary analogues, and the Cuban "rumba clave" timeline in their forward or "3-2" and reverse or "2-3" orientation.[4] The concept of 3-2 and 2-3 orientation is useful because many phrases in Cuban and other A/D music can be validly perceived and represented in either way depending on a variety of factors, including the rhythmic structure of a melody and the harmonic motion it implies.[5] The idea of analogous ternary and quaternary patterns is also relevant because in many cases, especially at faster tempos, the difference between the two is minimally perceptible and performers straddle both of these subdivision "grids."[6] Example 4 juxtaposes the triplet with its quaternary analogue, the tresillo.[7] Examples 5a and 5b show a "displaced triplet" (also known as "offbeat six" (Locke 1982) and "inverted large interweave" (Burns 12-13)), and its two closest quarternary analogues, displaced tresillos starting on beat 2 and on 1e; the latter two figures are strictly interwoven with the "prime" (i.e. not displaced) tresillo (x..x..x.). They are identical except for one note: 1and in example 5a is replaced with 1e in example 5b. These two timepoints represent .5 and .25 of a beat, while the corresponding ternary "1and" timepoint represents .33 of a beat; the 1e is actually closer (.09 of a beat before) than the quaternary 1and (.17 of a beat after) to the ternary 1and.
I borrow the abbreviation "A/D" from Julian Gerstin's 2017 article "Comparisons of African and Diasporic Rhythm: The Ewe, Cuba, and Martinique."
Throughout this site, I use abbreviated notation to textually describe rhythmic patterns: "o" or "x" will mark onsets, and "." will denote timepoints without onsets: either rests, or sustained sounds from previous onsets. "o" will denote an open, sustained stroke, and "x" will designate a short, staccato sound. Details of the sounds specific to each instrument can be found in the notation key (example 2b). ↑
As Julian Gerstin notes, “'Simultaneous hemiola' is polyrhythmic, 3 and 2 played together. In 'sequential hemiola,' one structure follows the other. The hemiola pattern as a whole is thus sequential, while its first half is simultaneous" (37).
The terms "Three side" and "two side" are often used to analyze Afro-Cuban music in terms of its clave timeline patterns: (x..x..x...x.x...) ("son clave") and (x..x...x..x.x...) ("rumba clave"), which both contain three notes in the first half (or first measure of 2/4) and two in the second half. When thes two halves are reversed, the result is "2-3 clave:" two onsets followed by three.
For a discussion of factors that determine the perception and/or description of clave patterns as "3-2" or "2-3", see Penalosa 135-138.
Percussionist Michael Spiro calls this phenomenon “fix,” a feel somewhere in between “four” (4/4) and “six” (6/8 or 12/8), with timing that eludes classification as “exactly” ternary or quaternary ((Spiro and Ryan 38–43). In the present study and many other cases, transcriptions serve as a guide to, but not a definitive representation of, a performance.
While tresillo literally means triplet in Spanish, it has come to mean [x..x..x.], a pattern which is analogous to a triplet in 2/4, or [x.x.x.] in 6/8.