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Dan: Talking to you has been a privilege

Saturday, May 16th, 2009

It’s my final column.

I knew this day would come, though I actually figured I’d just drop dead in the middle of writing something and that would be that.

When I started at the Citizen back in August of 1987, one of my friends said, “Why are you going to work there? They’ll be out of business in a few months.” Turns out he was off by about 21 1/2 years.

So what now? Honestly I’m not quite sure. My phone hasn’t been ringing off the hook with offers. But with Gannett saying we were up for sale, I’m sure many were convinced someone would step up and buy the Citizen. Nobody really wanted to believe this day would come.

On our annual evaluation forms there was a place for employees to list the job you feel qualified for that you’d like to be considered for next. For the last few years I’ve always written “Spaceman” in that slot.

The fact is I really liked what I did here. I met interesting folks. I watched history unfold in front of my eyes, and got to write about it or videotape it to share with our readers. I met politicians, scientists, artists and musicians of every sort. One of my first feature stories was on a dog psychologist. Arf! I reported on marches, watched the Phoenix Mars Lander touch down, watched Tohono O’odham pick saguaro fruit, and spent a wonderful time with an Apache violin maker. I fell in love with the music of the mariachis and the colorful pageantry of folklórico dance.

I watched the summer solstice sunrise over San Xavier Mission through the viewfinder of my video camera, and nearly got trampled to death at the odd football game. I spent literally thousands of nights in concert halls, walked the campus with a near-nude performance artist, and watched the Aaron Copland of Australia, Peter Sculthorpe, drop Coke cans I’d scooped off the floor of my car’s back seat to listen to them plink and plunk.

I saw kids grow up and blossom, and short lives come to a close. And when the presses roll for the last time, I will be there to record it. In all likelihood I will be the last man out after editing those last bits into our farewell video.

But I will write for these pages no more, and it’s highly improbable I will again be a journalist.

Back in 1987 when I signed on as a music critic and features writer I had a reason for doing so. People were excited about downtown becoming an arts district. I was president of the Central Arts Collective gallery downtown and had been supporting myself with a mix of work as a composer, photographer’s assistant, performance artist, freelance writer and recording engineer prior to the Citizen hiring me.

It was a huge trade-off. On the plus side, I was in a position where I thought I might help get artists’ dream of a city of the arts off the ground. On the minus side, my work as a composer was deemed a conflict of interest, and had to be put aside. At that point I figured the Citizen would be a temporary gig and I’d get back to writing music in a year or two.

Instead I discovered the endless stream of amazing talent this city has produced as well as the array of talent we’ve been introduced to by organizations such as UApresents, Borderlands Theater, the Tucson Symphony Orchestra, Arizona Theatre Company, Arizona Friends of Chamber Music, Arizona Opera and so many more.

How many composers on hiatus get to be inspired night after night by the greatest musicians of our time while they slowly and privately evolve their own voice? Mind you, I still stink, but it’s not for lack of good examples.

Over my 21 years at the Citizen I was tempted many times to leave. But year after year I was convinced that there were many more important stories to be told of folks from this special place like no other in the world.

It has been a privilege to serve this community and in some small way reflect a tiny corner of the beauty and life Tucson has shared with me. I thank our readers for their indulgence, their generosity and patience. I wish the town all the best, and I will miss our readers more than I miss being 17.

So what do I do now? I don’t know. It looks like my dream of putting on my second opera may become just another victim of budgetary axes. That’s life.

One thing is certain. Unless NASA decides it needs grizzled, semi-chunky prospector types to mine the moon and opts to honor my spaceman post request, I’m not going anywhere. Tucson is my home. You can take the job away but it’s going to take a lot more than that to make me leave.

The hardest part of this is saying goodbye to all the wonderful folks I work with here at the paper. They are dedicated, hard-working, highly intelligent and more fun than one can legally have with clothes on. They have a dedication to and perspective on Tucson like no other team in the business.

In the end there is one great consolation. Our slogan has always been “The Citizen is Tucson.” We meant it, and we earned the right to say it every day. As we leave, we know that Tucson is a better place for our service, and it will become an even better place as we all find other ways to serve.

If you want to stay in touch I’ve set up a crude Web site with a blog (http://web.me.com/dbtucson/Daniel_Buckley_onda_web/Welcome.html), or you can reach me via e-mail at dbtucson@gmail.com.

Adios, amigos. See you around.

Buckley: Gamelan drumming dreams turn 20

Thursday, May 14th, 2009
Tucson's Fine Stream Gamelan, an Indonesian folk orchestra that is the brainchild of local composer Matt Finstrom, recently celebrated its 20th anniversary.

Tucson's Fine Stream Gamelan, an Indonesian folk orchestra that is the brainchild of local composer Matt Finstrom, recently celebrated its 20th anniversary.

Last Friday a small piece of Tucson history was made as the Fine Stream Gamelan delivered its 20th anniversary concert.

The gamelan is an Indonesian folk orchestra, consisting mainly of percussion instruments forged from metal and wood. Tucson’s Fine Stream Gamelan is the brainchild of local composer/percussionist/bamboo expert Matt Finstrom. Over the years, Finstrom has convinced dozens of people to join in pursuit of a local expression for Javanese and Balinese traditional music, as well as new works for those unique and dreamy sounding instruments.

Finstrom’s gamelan dreams have roughly coincided with my own time at the Citizen. I recall going to a party at Finstrom’s house roughly a year after I started with the paper, celebrating his forging of the group’s original great gong. After that he set about creating by hand the numerous kettle and metalophones that would make up early configurations of the gamelan. At the same time he was enlisting recruits to join the group and training them to read the numeric code that serves as a score to the interlocking musical parts.

I had numerous friends in the group over the years, and made many more. Their dedication to the music and Finstrom was serious, and the result was simply amazing, concert after concert. To Finstrom it’s all grown organically and in the right way – like a family. You could see that in the current crop of Fine Stream Gamelan players Friday night, not only in the cooperative spirit in which they bring this music to life but also in a more literal sense as the children of Finstrom and David Dettman have joined the group’s ranks. And out in the audience, almost the same number of former players as were onstage watched the current generation put its stamp on the music, joined by a contingent of about 100 gamelan fans.

The show was a major milestone, underscoring how far this group has progressed in two decades. Along with Finstrom’s handmade Balinese-style instruments there were a number of instruments purchased in Indonesia for the group. Likewise the costuming of the players was closer to traditional garb. And the playing has clearly progressed, with more challenging repertoire becoming the norm. Not that Finstrom ever cut his players any slack in that department.

Musically, the concert was a mix of traditional Indonesian fare and music written by Finstrom over the years, working from traditional styles. Among Finstrom’s contributions were the original composition commissioned from him for the group’s initial appearance 20 years ago, a piece he composed in imitation of shadow puppet music, a piece that won him the 1991 Arizona Composers Forum award, a work blending Javanese and Balinese drumming styles, and the piece FSG played at the 2008 All Souls Procession finale. The latter work was dedicated to the late Rofl Jordahl – an artist and art restoration expert who was a former member of FGS and a beloved member of Tucson’s visual arts community.

Finstrom’s “Swara Manis” (Sweet Sound) is online in its entirety, attached to this column at www.tucsoncitizen.com. There is no substitute for seeing and hearing this music made, so I highly recommend going online to see it.

Watching the show, so many memories came back to me. I recall crowding into the tiny rehearsal space in Finstrom’s house where the players sat packed as close as atoms in a hunk of lead, painstakingly hammering metal bars with one hand while damping the previous bar with the other to keep its tone from clashing with the new sound. I recall when Finstrom’s wife, Holly, was pregnant with their daughter Ariel, now a beautiful 12-year-old who plays with the group. I remember most vividly the night that the father of the gamelan in America – classical composer Lou Harrison – and his partner, Bill Colvig, came out to Finstrom’s house during one of the rehearsals and jammed with them on traditional tunes all knew. Harrison was very impressed, both with the group and the instruments Finstrom created.

I’ve known Finstrom for about 25 years. We met when he was playing a variety of world percussion instruments and jamming with one of my former teachers, Larry Solomon. Over the years I’ve watched Finstrom take on more and more complex chunks of the global sound, through FSG and Sruti – Finstrom’s ensemble for the performance of East Indian music. Always an adept and highly informed player, Finstrom has organically grown as a composer and group leader, creating beautiful works and empowering community members to learn how to play this special music. I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see him nominated for a Lifetime Achievement Lumie Award. He deserved to be so recognized for the powerful contribution he’s made to this community.

It was nice to see his troupe honor him with its first “Gammy” award after the show and acknowledge the patience and perseverance he’s shown over the years. And even better to bask again in the beautiful sounds his labors have produced.

Congratulations, Matt, and many more decades to follow.

Matt Finstrom

Matt Finstrom

Tucsonan gets a chance to spread his wings with Calexico

Thursday, May 7th, 2009
Jacob Valenzuela has lent his trumpeting talents to local band Calexico for nine years.  He also contributed his songwriting abilities on the group's 2008 CD, "Carried To Dust."

Jacob Valenzuela has lent his trumpeting talents to local band Calexico for nine years. He also contributed his songwriting abilities on the group's 2008 CD, "Carried To Dust."

For fans of indie rock band Calexico, the trumpet artistry of Jacob Valenzuela is something indispensible to the group’s intoxicating sound.

The Tucson native, 31 and the proud papa of 7-week-old Jacob Martinez Valenzuela, came to Calexico nine years ago, introduced to group leaders Joey Burns and John Convertino by local mariachi legend Ruben Moreno.

It’s a dream gig for the young trumpeter who grew up on jazzmen Clifford Brown and Miles Davis, and had been part of the Desert View High School mariachi.

“At that point Joey was looking for a trumpet player who could travel and who could do jazz and a little bit of mariachi as well,” Valenzuela says of joining the group, sitting on the porch of his father’s house near the airport. “There’s a lot of liberty in (Calexico’s) music and the music is wonderful, too. I still enjoy listening to it after nine years. They’re really classic songs and I think the writing is beautiful. I’m really fortunate to be a part of it.”

On Calexico’s 2008 “Carried To Dust” CD, Valenzuela had a chance to spread his wings as a songwriter as well. His “Inspiración” is one of the best on the outstanding disc – a tune with a classic Latin sound that conjures images of the 1940s and ’50s.

“That song just kind of came out with me and my brother,” he says. “One day we were just sitting in Joey’s house and he was going over some chords and I just had this melody pop in my head. It started out very simple like things do. And eventually bringing it to the guys, you could see it starting to grow. It’s kind of a special song to me because of the relationship that I have in my family. It’s really strong.”

Valenzuela says that one of the things he likes best about Calexico is that it, too, feels like family.

“When you’re on the road it’s hard to be away but at the same time you have your family that you’re with. Just like brothers. We get into it and you make up. But they’re really lovely people. They’re really real.”

Valenzuela comes from a family of musical brothers. He started playing trumpet at age 10 as part of a church group.

“That’s where I started playing music and learning by ear,” he says.

Valenzuela wasn’t much into mariachi music when he was in high school, but with Moreno’s encouragement he stayed with the group. It was as a music education student at the University of Arizona that he came to see the beauty of the mariachi.

“I really didn’t feel I had the grasp of it until I started gigging,” he says. “It’s a lot of music to learn and if you didn’t really grow up listening to it and really studied it intensely, it’s just a crash course trying to learn it all. And it’s the same trying to learn jazz. You’ve got to grow up and listen to it and really invest a lot of time.

“Clifford Brown was one of the musicians that I appreciated most. I would study all his solos. I can’t play like him. He has a totally different style but just the way he plays the solos is really nice and his articulation and everything. I was really impressed with him. I really love Miles too. He’s always been very inspiring because he’s done so many different types of music and done it really well. It’s amazing how you can apply the trumpet to different genres of music.”

As a musician, Calexico is a dream gig because nothing is static. The group’s sound is based on an adventurous, collaborative spirit that incorporates everything from jazz, pop and rock to elements of the mariachi and other world music currents. And where things really get fun is in the live concerts, where the music morphs into something completely different from the recorded version.

“When you think about all the songs we’ve played over all the years, the repertoire is so extensive,” he says. “It’s huge, and it’s surprising how we remember all the songs.

“In just starting off a tour, the first gigs you start realizing, this doesn’t quite work out like it did on the album. ‘Let’s add this or let’s change this part.’ So it kind of becomes its own thing at that time. And then you have these two different versions we can always play off of. And everyone is so talented and so quick to adjust and compromise that it’s always easy. It just seems effortless.”

Things seem to be taking a good course. At the same point that he had a baby on the way, the group slowed the pace of touring, preferring to set up gigs that would take the members away from home for a few days at a time.

But Valenzuela is looking forward to getting back into the studio with Calexico again, either in the fall or winter. And he’s honing a few song ideas as well.

“With Calexico I think I grew with the band, and express myself more in different ways, he says. “This is one of the ways – vocally through writing my own music. Joey Burns has been a big inspiration, as well as the rest of the guys. But he’s really pushed me to write my own music and write my own songs.”

Needing a waila fix? Special on KUAT airs Monday night

Monday, May 4th, 2009
The Joaquin Brothers play at a 1963 prom at St. John's Indian School, a boarding school in Laveen, just south of Phoenix.  The band members (from left) are brothers Daniel Joaquin, Fernando Joaquin and Angelo Joaquin Sr.

The Joaquin Brothers play at a 1963 prom at St. John's Indian School, a boarding school in Laveen, just south of Phoenix. The band members (from left) are brothers Daniel Joaquin, Fernando Joaquin and Angelo Joaquin Sr.

The annual Waila Festival is off for now, due to budgetary reasons. But a waila special on KUAT-TV on Monday may take the edge off.

“Waila! Making the People Happy” is a half-hour film by Quechan tribe member Daniel Golding about the Tohono O’odham social dance tradition. The show airs on Channel 6 at 10:30 p.m. Monday.

A cousin of the northern Mexican norteño tradition, waila features polkas, cumbias and Schottisches. But while the musical repertoire of both norteño and waila overlaps, waila is a strictly instrumental tradition, played by ensembles typically made up of saxophones, button accordion, bajo sexto (a 12-string rhythm guitar), electric bass and drums.

The main instrumentation and musical styles came from 19th century European settlers. But over the years the Tohono O’odham have put their own spin on the music and made it their own.

Typical waila dances run sundown to sunup, and the band has a repertoire to span that time period.

Tucson has gotten to know the waila tradition better through the annual Waila Festival, which began in 1989 and has in recent years been a May event on the University of Arizona campus. But with the economy in a bind, the money that the festival usually borrows from the Arizona Historical Society is just not there this year, according to festival co-founder Angelo JoaquinJr.

“It was a cash flow problem,” Joaquin explains. To Joaquin and the festival committee it would be too hard to get everything together for a spring festival this year. But the group sees the current problem as an opportunity.

“It’s time for us to regroup and look at what’s really important and where we want to go from here,” Joaquin says. “I hope that there is quite a bit of support out there and people will work to help us put it on again next year.”

In fact, there may be two events – one in late spring, the other in winter.

The committee is focusing on creating an indoor dance to highlight more the orchestral style of waila. To be held sometime between November and January, the event hopefully will be a draw for winter visitors who likely will be surprised to see Native Americans playing and dancing to polka music.

Breaking from Native American stereotypes was on the mind of filmmakerl Golding when he started making “Waila! Making the People Happy.”

Golding, 42, first heard the music as a child growing up on the Fort Yuma-Quechan Reservation along the California border of Arizona.

A magazine article jogged his memory of the music, which is also called Chicken Scratch. He started researching the project in 2000 and began shooting in 2002-2003.

He called on Ron Joaquin (brother of Angelo Joaquin Jr.) – a second-generation member of the pioneering waila saxophone band The Joaquin Brothers – and started attending the Tucson Waila Festival, as well as “battle of the bands” events.

“What was neat was just learning how a Native people have adapted this musical style to fit into their own community,” Golding says. “A lot of times it seems like we’re portrayed as living in the past, in movies and TV. This is an opportunity to really show how Native people have adapted something that was given to them, made it their own and created this new contemporary tradition. I think that’s very empowering for people to see and learn about the Native communities.”

Although the project mainly focuses on the Joaquin Brothers, it shows some of the other bands in the project, too, Golding says.

“Talking to people even around Phoenix and Tucson, they’re totally unfamiliar with the Indian people that live right there,” he notes. “It’s almost like this cultural divide right there. People don’t get to experience it even though it’s right there in their own backyard. This is an opportunity for people to step into their world visually and see and experience what’s going on.”

For more information on this and other Daniel Golding films visit hokanmedia.com. And don’t miss “Waila! Making the People Happy” on Monday night.

Buckley: Tucson conference model for mariachi world

Thursday, April 30th, 2009
Conrado Duarte, 14, (from left), Rena Aguirre, 15, and Fernando Manzano, 11, performed in the Fiesta de Garibaldi at this year's Tucson International Mariachi Conference.

Conrado Duarte, 14, (from left), Rena Aguirre, 15, and Fernando Manzano, 11, performed in the Fiesta de Garibaldi at this year's Tucson International Mariachi Conference.

First, a couple of corrections. In my review of Thursday night’s mariachi conference participant showcase, I failed to even mention Tucson’s Los Changuitos Feos. This was a major omission, as theirs was one of the night’s best sets.

Youth mariachis are like school athletics: You have good teams some years and have to build on others. But this year was one of the best for the Changuitos of the 20-plus years I’ve covered the conference for the Citizen. The group’s vocals were dead-on, the instrumental ensemble was impressive and the group’s sense of showmanship and style set it apart.

Also in my review of the Espectacular, I mistakenly credited Los Camperos with the beautiful performance of “El Pastor.” It was, in fact. Arturo from Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán who lofted those falsetto leaps into the stratosphere in that memorable performance. Sometimes when you’re under deadline pressure, you think you’re on a page in your notes talking about one group when there’s actually a bit of overlap. My bad, and apologies to Vargas.

Corrections out of the way, I wanted to make some observations about the Tucson International Mariachi Conference since it’s by no means certain that we’ll be around next year to do so.

I first covered the mariachi conference for the Citizen in 1988, just after Linda Ronstadt’s “Canciones de Mi Padre” came out. That first year I reviewed the show jointly with Ruben Hernandez, who covered it by himself the following year. From 1990 on I covered the conference by myself.

No single event has been more crucial to my appreciation and understanding of the heart of this community than the mariachi conference.

I was an outsider from the culture, but from the start, people in the Mexican- American community embraced me and patiently helped me to get a grip on the complexities and nuances of the mariachi and folklórico art forms. My background was in classical music, and immediately I could see that the virtuoso mariachis who appeared at the Espectacular were among the best musicians from any genre in the world. Clearly they had taken this music’s folk roots and elevated them to a level of high art, just as symphonic, chamber and operatic composers in the classical world had. Moreover, both the instrumental and vocal artistry brought to bear on this music were among the greatest anywhere in the world.

I also quickly saw that this was some of the most complex music on the planet, with rhythms superimposed upon one another in the most propulsive way. And there was a human connection to the mainstream of the culture that had all but disappeared in the classical world. High art this may be, but this music lives in the hearts and minds of the populace, who often sing along at the shows when button-pushers like “Volver, Volver” are performed. Being in the middle of all of that was so different and so “alive.”

Over two decades there were growing pains in the conference that I reported. Personality conflicts and strong differences of opinion, particularly with regard to the educational components, rocked the event from time to time. But over the years, those clashes have produced a stronger conference that remains the model for all in the mariachi world.

Tucson, too, has grown as a result of the conference, economically because of the many visitors it’s brought in, but also socially. When I started at the Citizen in 1987, few schools had mariachi programs as part of the curriculum. Today many more do, and these programs have increased student pride in their culture, helped to lower dropout rates, improved grades and resulted in many more Mexican-American students going on to college than ever before. These programs have become recruiting tools for local public schools, and in many ways have been cultural ambassadors to the community at large.

Having the mariachi conference as a focal point for all of this school activity has had a synergistic effect. Some complain that students can learn little in three days, but I say that one cannot underestimate the value of the inspiration that comes from rubbing shoulders with the greatest figures in that music and learning directly in the classroom from your heroes. On top of that, students build lasting friendships with players, singers and dancers of their age from around the U.S. and Mexico, and come to realize they are part of something greater than themselves and their local groups.

And the proof is in the student participant showcase, as well as the student offerings of the Garibaldi. Year after year, I see the level of artistry in the students steadily rise. At younger and younger ages I see top talent, inspired by kids their age and the masters of their art forms. I see kids with confidence who are unafraid to express themselves, are proud of their heritage and connected to their families and community. And I see the rise of a sophisticated audience as well that knows and understands the music and dance, and shows its appreciation like no other.

I’ve also seen changes at the highest levels of the mariachi food chain. Tucson’s own Mariachi Cobre gave Vargas, Los Camperos and many others a kick in the pants a number of years back by ratcheting up its own level of instrumental and vocal artistry. The competition is more fierce today at the top level than it once was, and yet there also has developed a more cooperative spirit at that level. All of this is directly attributable to the Tucson conference.

Words can’t describe how grateful I am to have had the chance to see all of this unfold, to write about this moment in history as it happened and to get to know some of the most wonderful people along the way. In particular, I would like to thank longtime conference emcee Jose Ronstadt, who year after year acknowledged what the Citizen has allowed me to do. I’d also like to thank Richard Carranza, who in my earliest years helped me by explaining so much of what’s important in this music, and guided me through its incredibly rich and deep literature. I’d like to thank the Carrillo and Ruiz families for their help in unraveling mariachi’s Tucson roots. Equally, I would like to thank Julie Gallego, Jose Luis Baca and Marisa Gallegos for all the help they’ve given me in coming to understand the folklórico dance that is an equal partner to the music.

Most of all, I would like to thank the musicians and dancers, young and old, who have inspired me beyond what words can convey. You are in my heart forever.

Please go online (www.tucsoncitizen.com) and check out the videos from the participant showcase and the Garibaldi performances. And know that whether the newspaper is here or not next year, I’ll be back at the conference, savoring again the music and dance that I have come to love.

Espectacular’s mariachi artistry one for books

Saturday, April 25th, 2009
Linda Ronstadt (left) performs with Jesus "Chuy" Guzman of Mariachi Los Camperos de Nati Cano during the Mariachi Espectacular concert at the Tucson Convention Center on Friday night.

Linda Ronstadt (left) performs with Jesus "Chuy" Guzman of Mariachi Los Camperos de Nati Cano during the Mariachi Espectacular concert at the Tucson Convention Center on Friday night.

Even for the always-amazing Tucson International Mariachi Conference, last night’s Espectacular was one for the books.

The 3 1/2-hour show was a cavalcade of the breadth and heights of mariachi artistry.

It was nostalgic for me personally. The first Espectacular I reviewed for the Citizen back in 1988 had Linda Ronstadt as the headliner, hot on the heels of the release of her “Canciones de Mi Padre” record. Back then, a sea of Bic lighters swayed in the darkness as she sang. Friday night the lighters were replaced by cell phones, but the emotion and sense of connection was the same.

Ronstadt performed five songs, ably backed by Los Camperos de Nati Cano.

Though it’s not as easy for the 62-year-old singer to breeze through the vocal acrobatics of this repertoire as 21 years back, plainly the music has grown deeper and more meaningful in her heart.

And she still has the pipes to pin ears, tempered with the grace to evoke waves of emotion in her audience.

Ronstadt’s “stand and deliver” stage style was a stark contrast from Eugenia Leon, who made the concert stage a theatrical venue with her lithe interpretation of classic ranchera fare. A singer of full-bore power and silky nuance, she embroidered her songs with dramatic gestures, fluid movements and natural dance impulses.

Like an operatic diva, Leon is at heart a storyteller, but as a singer, she is also someone who finds a unique perspective on well-known fare. On “La Bruja” in particular, her phrasing was as supple as her silk blouse, the dreamy character of her singing amplified by tango-like accordion accents and Los Camperos’ sensitive backing.

It was a huge night for Los Camperos, which was the MVP in every respect of last night’s show. After leading the workshops all week and rehearsing with the two guest singers, the recent Grammy-winning ensemble managed to make its own set one of the best it’s ever delivered in Tucson.

Proud and heroic, tender and suave, the mariachi poured on chops to rival any of the best ensembles in the classical world.

Blessed with the perfect voice to match every style in the massive mariachi repertoire, Camperos proved equally flawless instrumentally. Its violins pulsed with the singular regularity of a helicopter blade, its trumpets blazing like lasers. Similarly its rhythm section proved as tight and driving as any the genre has produced, while cherubic musical director Chuy Guzman’s arrangements balanced sophistication with intensity and emotion.

Camperos’ performance of “El Pastor” in particular was a thing of sheer luminosity.

Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán upheld its reputation as the best mariachi in the world, even with close competition.

Perfect on both vocal and instrumental fronts, blessed with the best charts in the business, what sets Vargas apart these days is sheer showmanship and an ability to take an audience on a cinematic ride.

Every song in the set, whether in quick medley form or full-length treatment, was carefully calculated to build a sort of dramatic architecture.

By the time Los Camperos came out to join Vargas in Pepe Martinez’s “Violin Huapango,” the audience was at a frenzied level of excitement.

Camperos and Vargas seemed evenly matched in the tune, trading licks in carbon copies and fanning each other to incandescent intensity.

If it turns out to be my last Espectacular, what a way to go.

SATURDAY’S EVENTS

What: Mariachi Mass

When: 9 a.m. Saturday

Where: St. Augustine Cathedral, 192 S. Stone Ave.

Admission: Free

What: Fiesta de Garibaldi

When: 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. Saturday

Where: Reid Park

Admission: $5 (12 and under free)

Schedule:

10:30 Ballet Folklorico Davis Bilingual School

11:00 Mariachi Davis Bilingual School

11:30 Mariachi Anacatlan

12:00 Mariachi Pumas

12:30 Mariachi Mixteco

1:00 Mariachi Nuevo Melodia

1:30 Mariachi Los Charritos

2:00 Mariachi Tesoro de Tucson

2:30 Mariachi Imperial de San Diego

3:00 Mariachi Los Tigres

3:30 Mariachi Los Vaqueros

4:00 Mariachi Brillante

5:00 Mariachi Los Changuitos Feos

5:45 Mariachi Los Mineros

6:30 Mariachi Master Apprentice

7:15 Mariachi Sonido

8:00 Mariachi Aztlán de Pueblo High School

8:45 Mariachi Los Arrieros

Members of Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán perform during the show.

Members of Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán perform during the show.

Margarita Sandoval (left) and her boyfriend Owen Sully dance during the concert.

Margarita Sandoval (left) and her boyfriend Owen Sully dance during the concert.

Student portion of mariachi conference brims with talent

Friday, April 24th, 2009

Talent overflows as kids get to show what they learned in workshops

Isabella Bryant (left), 8, and Karina Romero, 7, of Mariachi Aguilitas de Davis perform during the showcase concert on Thursday at the Tucson Convention Center.

Isabella Bryant (left), 8, and Karina Romero, 7, of Mariachi Aguilitas de Davis perform during the showcase concert on Thursday at the Tucson Convention Center.

The Mariachi Espectacular concert always gets top billing, but to this writer, the real show happened Thursday night.

Though the Tucson Convention Center Arena was only around half full, the spacious joint was brimming with talent as the students who attend the Tucson International Mariachi Conference workshops got to strut their stuff.

It was a big night for the Valenzuela family in particular. Alfredo Valenzuela, who heads the mariachi program at Davis Elementary School, was inducted into the Mariachi Hall of fame. His group, Mariachi Aguilitas de Davis, was up first and full strength, with some 70 talented youngsters chiming out “Mexico Lindo,” “Tata Dios” and “Cancion Mexicana” in style. A group of his graduates called Mariachi Nueva Melodia made an impressive debut on the show, as did son Jaime Valenzuela’s Mariachi Tesoro.

Mariachi Aztlan de Pueblo High School set the high water mark in a strong lineup. The group barreled through taxing arrangements with aplomb, wowing the crowd with a set that showed its grasp of the music’s roots, as well as its sophisticated branches. A practically classical trio tossed into the set set the audience on its ear.

Mariachi Mixteco from El Centro, Calif., won the hearts of Tucson with its soulful version of Lalo Guerrero’s “Barrio Viejo” and an equally joyous rendition of his “Cancion Mexicana.”

Mariachi Brillante Juvenil showed it’s grown into its name in every respect. Polished, suave and precise, it had chops to match its stage presence. The dedication to Jose Rincon, who was killed in a car wreck last year, tugged the hearts of all who recall his special talents.

David Gill’s Los Potrillos de Cholla High School was second only to Mariachi Aztlan in poise, showmanship and crisp virtuosity from every sector. Likewise Mariachi Apache from Nogales High School, under the direction of Gilbert Velez, brought commanding style and powerful vocal talent to its too-short set. And former Tucsonan Adam Romo’s Mariachi Los Vaqueros from Las Vegas, Nev., made a powerful impression, both instrumentally and vocally.

With each passing year, this showcase makes more and more evident the strides young people are making in this music.

My sole complaint is the absence of folklorico dancers at the show. They too are vital participants who deserve a showcase. Let’s fix this.

Mastering mariachi: time again for spring blowout

Thursday, April 23rd, 2009

Annual conference features world’s best, inspires young musicians

Robert Moore warms-up with Mariné Armenta and Melissa Porta before practice at Pueblo High School.

Robert Moore warms-up with Mariné Armenta and Melissa Porta before practice at Pueblo High School.

It was 1984 – the second year of the Tucson International Mariachi Conference – when 8-year-old John Contreras first attended the student workshops. It was an experience that changed his life and set him on the professional path he strides today.

Now the director of Mariachi Aztlán de Pueblo High School, Contreras came up through the ranks of Mariachi Valle, Mariachi Nuevo de Tucson and Los Changuitos Feos. He’s attended the workshops ever since 1984 – the past 15 years as one of the instructors. It was a considerably smaller event when he started going. But its impact on his life was huge.

“I fondly remember these ‘men’ that were teaching us,” Contreras says. “They spoke only Spanish and very little broken English. This would test my bilingual ability. I heard that this was Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán (I could barely pronounce Tecalitlán). They were dressed immaculately in blue blazers with tan slacks.

“From the first downbeat that Pepe Martinez gave to begin ‘El Son de La Negra,’ I was entranced. These men transformed into ‘giants’ onstage! Their presence was huge.

“This memory sticks with me and has fueled my ambition to pass along this amazing folkloric music!”

That’s always been the point of the workshops, which have been an integral part of the conference since Day One – to put the aspiring young musician side by side with the masters of the music. To have them learn from the best, see the hard work that they put in and learn the nuances of style, as well as the total palette of showmanship that rounds out the mariachi’s art.

Back when Contreras started, there were maybe six or seven guitar students, total, and three or four vihuela students, he says – a tiny number compared with the hundreds that take part in the workshops every year these days.

“The perfect combination to combine with Vargas for the workshops was the Mariachi Cobre,” Contreras says. “They were bilingual and could help us snot-nosed kids with translating both the Spanish language and most importantly the language of mariachi. This proved to be a huge connection that was beneficial to raising the musical and stylistic level of the mariachi movement in Tucson.”

The experience is no less exciting for Contreras’ students.

Celeste Padilla, now a senior at Pueblo with an eye toward studying psychology at Arizona State University next year, was 14 when she attended her first conference workshop.

“It’s fun learning all of the different music and getting to work with famous mariachis such as Los Camperos (de Nati Cano),” she says. “I think every student that’s inspired to play music or an instrument should attend because it’s a great experience. You get to meet so many different people and to broaden your ideas and broaden your skills at playing an instrument.”

Fellow senior John Salazar, 17, plays the guitarrón – the oversized bass guitar of the mariachi. For him, having the chance to learn all of the intricacies of his loping instrument from the likes of Los Camperos’ Juan Jimenez is a dream come true.

“He’s one of the best in the world,” Salazar says of Jimenez, adding that he’s learned so much from going year after year. It’s also a social thing, too, where Salazar meets with fellow guitarrón players from around Tucson and the U.S.

“I work with the other players, too,” he says. “They show me things and I show them some.” Salazar plans to follow in Contreras’ footsteps, studying music education in college, and then hopefully heading to Los Angeles to be part of Los Camperos or one of many other professional groups in the area.

For sophomore Robert Moore, 16, who has been part of the conference workshops since the age of 14, the music has helped him to connect with his culture and his generation.

“The music is so different from everything else,” he notes. “The mariachi conference was something that brought a lot of stuff into my life that probably wouldn’t be there if I hadn’t been introduced to it.

“Just being able to learn the music and be with the teachers that they have there is really good. And the jam sessions that they have at the Arizona Hotel gives you even more of an experience. You meet new people and hear new songs and just get to be around the atmosphere of mariachi. It’s amazing.”

So much has changed since the conference first started. In those days, no formal mariachi programs were offered in Tucson schools. The kids attending the workshops were very much in the minority of their friends who were often on the football team or enjoying other sports. The conference gave those early students a place of belonging, just as the numerous school and independent groups do today.

Even technologically, things were different. Contreras recalls dropping the needle on his old Mariachi Vargas LPs over and over to try to understand the complex layers of rhythms in the mariachi. When he got to the conference, he could ask the players who invented that music if he’d gotten it right. It was huge.

Today’s young students are no less disciplined.

“Practice makes perfect,” Moore says. “That’s all we do is practice.”

But it pays off. Last summer, Mariachi Aztlán was asked to represent Arizona at the Independence Day Parade in Washington, D.C.

“That was an experience,” Moore says. “It was amazing.”

Most recently, Aztlán took first place in the Elisa Gastellum Foundation Competition – a win that returns this student group to the stage of the mariachi conference Espectacular concert.

“Playing for Elisa’s family and being introduced to the mariachi conference as the winners of that competition is a great experience,” Moore says.

All of the players agree that the mariachi conference is a Tucson tradition that changes lives and must continue.

“It would be the worst thing in the world if this conference weren’t around,” Salazar says.

See for yourself what the conference does Thursday night at the Tucson Convention Center Arena (see box) as the workshop participants show off their talents. For this writer’s money, the participant showcase is the best public part of the whole event, showing in bold relief what motivated young musicians can do when inspired by the best in the world.

Mariachi Aztlán director John Contreras leads the group during practice at Pueblo High School.

Mariachi Aztlán director John Contreras leads the group during practice at Pueblo High School.

Young ladies practice their art

Young ladies practice their art

———

IF YOU GO

Thursday

What: Tucson International Mariachi Conference Participant Showcase

When: 7 p.m.

Where: Tucson Arena, 260 S. Church Ave.

Price: $10 (general admission). Tickets for all events available through the Tucson Convention Center box office, and Ticketmaster, 321-1000, www.ticketmaster.com

Friday

What: The TIMC Espectacular Concert, featuring Linda Ronstadt, Eugenia Leon, Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán and Mariachi Los Camperos de Nati Cano

When: 7:30 p.m.

Where: Tucson Arena

Price: $48-$88

Saturday

What: The Mariachi Mass

When: 9 a.m.

Where: St. Augustine Cathedral, 192 S. Stone Ave.

Admission: free

What: Fiesta Garibaldi

When: 10 a.m.-10 p.m.

Where: DeMeester Oudoor Performing Center at Reid Park, 22nd Street and Country Club Road

Admission: $5 at the gate, free to ages 12 and younger

Linda Ronstadt speaks out in support of music, the arts

Thursday, April 16th, 2009
Linda Ronstadt sits with fellow musician Wynton Marsalis last month as they wait to testify for arts funding from Congress.

Linda Ronstadt sits with fellow musician Wynton Marsalis last month as they wait to testify for arts funding from Congress.

Linda Ronstadt recently traded her place in the spotlight for an unlikely forum.

In late March the 62-year-old singer joined musicians Wynton Marsalis and Josh Groban as guests of the U.S. Congress, advocating for an increase in arts education funding for the National Endowment for the Arts. On April 24, she’ll be back in her Tucson hometown to perform at the Tucson International Mariachi Conference’ Espectacular concert, sharing the stage with Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán and Mariachi Los Camperos de Nati Cano.

“I don’t remember when there wasn’t music going on in some form – my father whistling while he was figuring out how to fix something, my older brother practicing the ‘Ave Maria’ for his performance with the Tucson Boys Choir, my sister sobbing a Hank Williams song with her hands in the dishwater, my little brother struggling to play the huge double bass,” Ronstadt told members of Congress.

“. . . There was no TV, the radio couldn’t wander around with you because it was tethered to the wall, and we didn’t get enough allowance to buy concert tickets. In any case, there weren’t many big acts playing in Tucson, so if we wanted music, we had to make our own. The music I heard there, in those two houses, before I was 10 years old, provided me with enough material to explore for my entire career, which has stretched from the late ’60s until now.” (See Ronstadt’s entire speech online at www.tucsoncitizen.com).

She went on to talk about the things that music education provides: teamwork, discipline, a healthy environment for the expression of emotions, a lasting creative outlet, as well as such basics as the type of brain development that yields higher academic achievement, lower dropout rates and higher math skills. Peppered with anecdotal experience and a logical unfolding of successful examples of music education done right in a variety of settings, her speech was well received.

“They were very cordial,” Ronstadt says of the members of Congress. “They seemed very enthusiastic. I felt I was in excellent company with Wynton Marsalis, who is so brilliant and so eloquent. People were very nice to us. But the proof is in the pudding. They’ll say, ‘Of course, art is very important,’ but it’s so important – so much a part of human experience that you take it for granted and then they don’t realize it’s going to cost something, too.”

Ronstadt has been an eclectic voice in pop music since she left home at the age of 17 to start a musical career. From rock and pop to classic American standards, jazz classics, country, Cajun and mariachi music, her output has had a staggering span.

In the mariachi world, her “Canciones de Mi Padre” and “Mas Canciones” ranchera recordings of the late 1980s broadened the audience and brought renewed pride to the ranks of mariachi musicians everywhere, as well as cultural pride to many a Mexican-American (see sidebar of mariachi figures talking of Linda’s impact). For Ronstadt, immersing herself in that music was deeply personal.

“It reunited me with my deepest past, she says. “It reunited me with my childhood music. That was really important. It made me feel less homesick in general. That’s a profound thing. I left home when I was pretty young, so I always feel homesick, my whole life. Even when I’m home.”

She recalls going to Mexico with her parents as a young girl. When her father, Gilbert Ronstadt, had a particularly good year in the hardware business he’d pack up the family and head to Mexico, where he might hire a mariachi to follow them around to different places.

She ribbed her dad about it when her ranchera recordings came out.

“I said to him, ‘Well, I hired a mariachi to follow me around the whole country for a year. So there.’”

Clearly that moment and the resulting tours were important and special to Ronstadt.

“It felt like wherever I looked there was this familiar mixture of Spanish and English and these rich baritone voices that sounded like family voices to me. That was a lovely feeling. It was a very different touring experience from going out on the road with (guitarist) Waddy Waddell, who also is a great pal and wonderful player and all of that. But it was a different vibe altogether.”

This summer she plans to be back out on the road, backed by Los Camperos de Nati Cano, for another chance to expose fans to the beauty and power of the mariachi.

“I know that my show will run just fine without me,” she says of touring with Los Camperos. “These guys are fabulous. All of the musical inner movements of the strings and the horn and the mariachi are so exciting and the traditional songs just make everybody very excited. I’m kind of the most easily expendable thing in the group. I also know that it really pays off to have these mariachi programs in the schools.”

Ronstadt’s dream is to create a summer mariachi math program, both in San Jose where she is strongly involved with the local mariachi festival, and in Tucson, which has a proven track record of such programs working.

“I’d like to see that happen because the two things reinforce one another beautifully,” she says. “As Wynton Marsalis said, ‘You teach math and you can do music because music is super math.’ I’m sure there are a lot of kids who are out during the summer who would love to get a step up on math for the following year.”

———

IF YOU GO

What: Tucson International Mariachi Conference Participant Showcase

When: 7 p.m. Thursday, April 23

Where: Tucson Arena, 260 S. Church Ave.

Price: $10 (general admission). Tickets for all events available through the TCC box office and Ticketmaster, 321-1000, www.ticketmaster.com

What: The TIMC Espectacular Concert, featuring Linda Ronstadt, Eugenia Leon, Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán and Mariachi Los Camperos de Nati Cano

When: 7:30 p.m. Friday, April 24

Where: Tucson Arena

Price: $48-$88

What: The Mariachi Mass

When: 9 a.m. Saturday, April 25

Where: St. Augustine Cathedral, 192 S. Stone Ave.

Admission: Free

What: Fiesta Garibaldi

When: 10 a.m.-10 p.m. Saturday, April 25

Where: DeMeester Outdoor Performing Center at Reid Park, 22nd Street and Country Club Road

Admission: $5 (12 and younger free) at the gate

———

WHAT THE EXPERTS SAY ABOUT RONSTADT’S IMPACT

What is Linda Ronstadt’s legacy to the world of mariachi music?

I asked a variety of musicians and cultural experts this question. Here are some of their replies.

“About Linda, it’s fair to say that she was very influential in popularizing mariachi in the U.S. through her ‘Canciones’ albums. It’s no coincidence that Linda sang at some of the first mariachi conferences in Tucson, obviously helping to gain attention and acclaim for the conference, that the Tucson conference in many ways led the U.S. in the mariachi education movement (mariachi in schools), which has exploded since the mid-1980s, and that her mariachi recordings popularized mariachi across the U.S. at precisely the same time. I still meet people who learn that I play and teach mariachi and say, ‘I loved those Linda Ronstadt mariachi albums’: this was mainstream America’s first (and possibly only) encounter with what I call ‘virtuoso mariachi.’ ”

“Taking it one step further, many friends of mine in Mexico (including members of Mariachi Vargas and others) acknowledge that the mariachi movement in the U.S., especially mariachi education, is having a strong effect on mariachi in Mexico, so it is also fair to say that Linda’s recordings are now positively influencing mariachi at its roots — albeit indirectly.”

- Jeff Nevin, mariachi director and chair of performing arts at Southwestern College, leader of Mariachi Champaña Nevin

“I think a lot of Mexican-Americans that didn’t really embrace their culture – the Mexican side – came out of the closet with that record. I was her vocal coach through the first record and she was worried a bit because she was recording a lot of classics that were recorded by Lola Beltran and Amalia Mendoza and Miguel Aceves Mejia. I would tell her, ‘As long as you get the words down right and pronounce the words good, your voice is your voice. You have the gift. And you have the best musicians surrounding you. I think it will be something special.’

“It was all traditional arrangements. It was like a complete U-turn in a way from what most mariachis in the mainstream were doing. Everybody was sort of updating arrangements and stuff and her thing was to make people feel like they were around a campfire listening to the mariachi music. She had it completely right. She took the mariachi medium into a mainstream audience. She got a Grammy for the record. For us it was an honor to be one of the mariachis backing her up on that first record.”

- Jose Hernandez, director, Mariachi Sol de Mexico

“Linda’s legacy to mariachi music? I would have to distinguish between the music itself, which is Mexican, not strictly ‘mariachi,’ and the mariachi ensemble itself.

I would say that Linda’s respect for and recognition of the musicianship of the mariachis in her recordings and concerts (coupled with her support of the Tucson Conference) gave them a much-needed sense of validation. She treated the mariachi ensemble, not as a mere background group for her, but as an orchestra worthy of performing on its own.

“With regard to the music itself, well, it stands on its own: sones de mariachi (‘La Mariquita‘), sones jarochos (‘El Toro Relajo‘), sones huastecos (‘El Gustito‘), canciones tradicionales (‘Hay Unos Ojos‘), huapangos (‘Dos Arbolitos‘), canciones rancheras (‘Pobre de Mi‘), corridos (‘La Carcel de Cananea‘), etc. These are selections that she selected and recorded . . . not strictly ‘mariachi’ music . . . simply played by a mariachi group. My opinion has been that she should have used actual regional ensembles.”

- Prof. Fermín Herrera, Department of Chicana/o Studies, California State University, Northridge

“Much like Jorge Negrete, who put mariachi music on the international community map through his movies, I think that Linda put mariachi music on the map in the Anglo community. Invariably at our ‘gigs’ someone asks us to play something by Linda Ronstadt. Linda hit a home run when she recorded ‘Canciones de Mi Padre.’ ”

- Alberto Ranjel, director El Mariachi Tapatio, Tucson

“As a young (at the time) musician, she opened our genre to an audience that had either ignored the music or held it in disdain. I believe that it also had a similar impact that LA Nueva Dimension had on the mariachi genre. This recording brought on the evolution of the mariachi. Linda’s ‘Canciones de Mi Padre’ brought international recognition and acceptance of an artform that had for years taken a back seat to other musical styles. Mariachis have since enjoyed playing in some of the finest concert halls in the world. Some of the great mariachi musicians are classically trained and have raised the bar for all mariachis to emulate.

“As a young musician, we were now playing gigs in homes of various ethnicities. It became cool to be a mariachi musician, and profitable.”

- John Nieto, director, Mariachi Aguila, Brackenridge High School, San Antonio, Texas

“Personally I love her! And I always have since I was really little. I cried when she came to the Tucson conference for the first time and my mom wouldn’t take me. To me she opened up mariachi music to my ears. For others I think she opened it up to the non-Hispanic world with her ‘Canciones de mi Padre’ album and tour.”

- Marisa Gallegos, Ballet Folklórico Tapatío, Tucson

“Linda helped bring the female voice into the mariachi mainstream. No matter who your audience is, when you sing her songs, people react and know them because of her recordings. She has become someone that many female mariachi singers can learn from as they try to develop their own style. I know I did. I am very proud of the fact that I used to play for her family parties when I was in Changuitos, and one time in particular, I was singing “Y Andale” for her father, and she came up and complimented me afterward. It was a good feeling. She will always be one of Tucson’s icons.”

- Olga Flores, former mariachi conference vocal instructor

“It is my belief that Linda Ronstadt’s success in regards to mariachi music has made a huge impact with the Hispanic/Latino culture and all across the world, making mariachi music much more known. She has made mariachi music more popular, being that she was already a popular singer of many genres and recognized here in the United States and all over the world. People have seemed to accept her singing mariachi music with open arms. Her beautiful sultry voice has impacted many and taken mariachi music to yet another level.”

- Marisa Orduno, director/owner, Mariachi Mujer 2000

———

TRANSCRIPT OF RONSTADT’S SPEECH TO CONGRESS

Mr. Chairman and Distinguished Members of the Subcommittee,

Thank you for inviting me to be here. My name is Linda Ronstadt. I am a singer, and I am pleased to be a part of the Americans for the Arts delegation and to come to our nation’s capitol for Arts Advocacy Day. I am also here to testify in favor of a Fiscal Year 2010 appropriation of $205 million for the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA).

Before I discuss the topic of my remarks, I would like to share a bit about my personal background . . .

I grew up in the desert in Tucson, Arizona, on what was then a rural route. My grandfather’s cattle ranch had been whittled down considerably in size as a result of the financial storms of the last Depression, but we were pretty happily established there amid the cactus and the cottonwoods. My family had built a little compound with my grandparents in one house, my father and mother and the four of us kids in the other.

I don’t remember when there wasn’t music going on in some form – my father whistling while he was figuring out how to fix something, my older brother practicing the ‘Ave Maria’ for his performance with the Tucson Boys Choir, my sister sobbing a Hank Williams song with her hands in the dishwater, my little brother struggling to play the huge double bass.

Sundays, my father would sit at the piano and play most anything in the key of C and sing in his beautiful baritone: love songs in Spanish for my mother, maybe a few Sinatra songs while he remembered single life before children and responsibilities, and before the awful war that we won, that time. My mother would play Ragtime or something from Gilbert and Sullivan.

When we got tired of listening to our own house we would tramp across to my grandmother’s where we got a pretty regular diet of classical music. They had what they called a Victrola and would listen to their favorite opera excerpts played on 78-RPM recordings. On Saturdays, they would tune in to the Metropolitan Opera radio broadcast or sit at the piano trying to unravel a simple Beethoven, Brahms or Liszt composition from a page of sheet music.

Evenings, if the weather wasn’t too hot or freezing and the mosquitoes not threatening to carry us away to the land of Oz, we would haul our guitars outside and sing songs until it was time to go in, which was when we had run out of songs.

There was no TV, the radio couldn’t wander around with you because it was tethered to the wall, and we didn’t get enough allowance to buy concert tickets. In any case, there weren’t many big acts playing in Tucson, so if we wanted music, we had to make our own. The music I heard there, in those two houses, before I was 10 years old, provided me with enough material to explore for my entire career, which has stretched from the late sixties until now.

It gave me something else too, something even bigger than that. It gave me an enormous yardstick to measure my experiences against generations of other people. It placed me in a much larger cultural context, and helped me to locate my humanity.

Sometimes, it shocked me when music revealed the intensity of an emotion I was feeling, something I hadn’t even realized I felt so keenly or disturbingly until I had a musical lens to bring it into focus. As renowned music educator Karl Paulnack, music director and conductor of the orchestra at the Boston Conservatory said about great music: “It has the ability to crack your heart open like a walnut; it can make you cry over sadness you didn’t know you had. Music can slip beneath our conscious reality to get at what’s really going on inside us the way a good therapist does.” Years later, I would have the same emotional experience paging through works of classic literature. It occurred to me: no school curriculum would be complete without the works of Shakespeare, Dostoevsky or Tolstoy, Henry James, Edith Wharton or F. Scott Fitzgerald. Why then would it be complete without a working knowledge of Mozart, Beethoven or George Gershwin?

In the United States we spend millions of dollars on sports because it promotes teamwork, discipline and the experience of learning to make great progress in small increments. Learning to play music together does all this and more.

José Abreu, the founder of El Sistema, the children’s music curriculum currently considered to be the best in the world, says this: “An orchestra is a community that comes together with the fundamental objective of agreeing with itself. Therefore, the person who plays in an orchestra begins to live the experience of agreement. And what does the agreement of experience mean? Team practice, the practice of a group that recognizes itself as interdependent where one is responsible for others and the others are responsible for oneself. Agree on what? To create beauty.”

Karl Paulnack has also described how the arts, including music, were able to survive even the nightmarish conditions of the Nazi concentration camps: “The camps were without money, without hope, without commerce, without recreation, without basic respect, but they were not without art. Art is part of survival; art is part of the human spirit, an unquenchable expression of who we are. Art is one of the ways in which we say, ‘I am alive, and my life has meaning.’”

Music exists to help us identify our feelings. Through music one can safely express strong emotions like anger, sorrow, or frustration that might otherwise find a release in violence, or, just as bad, cause one to seek the numbing relief of drugs.

I’m continually stunned and deeply concerned when I hear groups of school children trying to sing something as simple as “Happy Birthday” and they are unable to match pitch. Many recent school children’s performances that I have observed sounded like a gray wash of tone-deaf warbling. Not the children’s fault.

Increasingly, people’s experience with music is passive. We delegate our musical expression to professionals. Music cannot be learned without both listening and playing. We need to teach our children to sing their own songs and play their own instruments, not just listen to their iPods. Do we really want our children’s musical experience to be limited to the mainstream commercial music that is blared at them continually? They deserve and are fully capable of learning to express themselves in the more subtle and profound ways of traditional and classical music.

As I am now 62, I have become concerned about keeping my mental faculties intact and recently acquired, from National Public Radio, a program I can do at home called ‘Brain Fitness.’ It was developed by Michael Merzenich, a leading researcher on neuroplasticity, which is how our brains can change and adapt to meet new challenges like stroke, head trauma or old age. When I opened up the program on my laptop, I was very surprised to discover that hours and hours and hours of the exercises were based on one’s ability to distinguish pitch. It turns out that this ability has a great deal to do with how our brains process and store information. Do you know a way of putting in sequence 26 things and remembering them? Well, the alphabet has 26 letters and we all learned it the same way: (sing) A-B-C-D-E-F-G . . . I can still remember a bit of a grammar lesson the nuns at Saints Peter and Paul School drilled into my head by using the tune of ‘Sweet Betsy From Pike.’ ‘First person refers to the speaker you see. For personal pronouns use I, mine and me.’

For thousands of years human history was passed down the generations using music as a way to remember long sagas before they could be written down. In these modern times, we tend to think of music as an entertainment or something that helps a troop of soldiers to step out smartly in a parade. Music is not just entertainment. Music has a profound biological resonance and it is an essential component of nearly every human endeavor. Oliver Sacks, the noted neurologist, wrote a book called “Awakenings” in which he describes his patients whose brains were severely damaged by Parkinson’s disease. These patients were unable to walk, but when music was played they were able to get up and dance across the floor. Music has an alternate set of neurological pathways through our bodies and our brains.

Music programs have a very discernable positive effect on our children’s education. A recent survey by Harris Interactive of 450 randomly selected high schools revealed that students who are enrolled in a music program have a 90.2 percent graduation rate, while those who take no music classes have a 72.9 percent graduation rate. Christopher Johnson, professor of music education and associate dean of the School of Fine Arts at Kansas University, conducted a landmark study comparing test scores of students in a music program with students who had no music. Professor Johnson later testified before Congress, presenting some eye-opening data: Students of all regions and socio-economic backgrounds who studied music scored significantly higher on math and English tests than students who did not study music.

Recently I have been invited to sing at several schools. I agreed on the condition that I not sing from the stage to a large school assembly but rather in the classrooms of first- and second-graders so that they could hear un-amplified music in a more natural setting the way I experience it in my living room. I know that many of these children don’t have families that play music at home. In fact, most of them have had no experience with anything but recorded music. They think music comes out of their television or computer screens, not out of people’s hands and mouths. After they got over the shock of discovering that we didn’t have volume knobs on our heads or on our acoustic guitars, they settled down and listened to our selection of folk songs from the early part of the 20th century. These were not children’s songs. They were songs about building the railroad, exploring unknown territory and the loneliness of being a stranger in a new land. Afterward, we talked about the stories in the songs and how they might apply to their lives.

There are some excellent programs that promote live performances in the schools and they deserve to be supported. Yo-Yo Ma, the renowned cellist who performed recently at President Obama’s inauguration, has volunteered his time to perform in schools with the help of an organization called Young Audiences.

In my hometown of Tucson, an organization called OMA (Opening Minds to the Arts) has made a tremendous impact in helping children of many different cultures and languages to assimilate into the Tucson Unified School District. Children of African refugees, Native Americans and Mexican immigrants, all have benefited from learning music, the universal language, as they struggle to become proficient in English and excel in their other subjects. In only the first year the program was implemented, the dramatic rise in test scores in schools being served by OMA surprised teachers and researchers alike.

Currently, I am acting as the artistic director of the Mexican Heritage Foundation in San Jose, California. We have a mariachi program that has functioned successfully in the schools since 1992 and an exciting math and music program in development.

And finally, as you may know, there is a conductor of staggering talent who has been hailed as the next Leonard Bernstein. His name is Gustavo Dudamel and he has toured the United States and Europe with the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra to ecstatic reviews. He joins the Los Angeles Philharmonic as their music director in the fall. Perhaps you have seen him featured on “60 Minutes” or in other national or international press. Here’s what matters to us today: This young conductor has a passion for music education because he knows its true power to alter the course of young lives. He was brought up in Venezuela in the extraordinary music education system that I mentioned earlier called El Sistema. It has existed for 35 years and now reaches over 250,000 students and their families. A driving force in Dudamel’s life is to transform communities through participation in music. He is leading the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s YOLA or Youth Orchestra L.A. project, which is designed to serve children who have the most need and the fewest resources. Access to quality music education should not be only for those who can afford it, The benefits are too great. Today, children ages 7-16 in the urban core of Los Angeles receive free instruments, after-school music instruction and orchestra experience. The Los Angeles Philharmonic has already touched the lives of hundreds of children and their families and has plans to reach more. Imagine what can be accomplished if we support the arts, engage “at risk” youth and help them succeed in school and in their lives. For “underserved” families, indeed for all families, participation in music and the arts can help people reclaim and achieve the American Dream.

Buckley: Folklórico groups stretching boundaries

Thursday, April 2nd, 2009
Ballet Folklórico Tapatío's Grupo Oficial performs "Chilenas de Guerrero" at its "Amor y Amistad" recital last week.

Ballet Folklórico Tapatío's Grupo Oficial performs "Chilenas de Guerrero" at its "Amor y Amistad" recital last week.

The Citizen’s interrupted demise has given me the chance to see and comment on a stunning recital by one of my favorite dance troupes in town, Ballet Folklórico Tapatío.

Since the first time I saw it in action, this professional group has wowed me with its grace, flawless technical prowess, extreme breadth of repertoire and sheer dramatic power.

Tapatío’s “Amor y Amistad” show at the Pima Community College West Center for the Arts Friday night gave me a chance to see its next generation of dancers, from little kids to high school age talent. Prior to this I’d only seen a handful of the young performers practicing outside Tapatío’s rehearsal hall, peering in to match their moves with the pros.

It was wonderful to see how these kids seized their moment in the spotlight to bring to life traditional dances from the Mexican states of Veracruz, Sinaloa, Colima and Tabasco. The littlest – Grupo Infantil – were cute as a button, while the older Grupo Juvenil and Grupo Participante members ramped up the footwork and choreography to an impressive level.

Likewise, each region was represented with detailed traditional garb, at once striking to the eye and integral to each style of dance.

Still, the piece I will take away with sheer awe was the performance by the pro group – grupo official – of “El Corrido de Rosita Alvirez.” Accompanied by Tucson’s Mariachi Tapatío, headed by members of the Ranjel family, the troupe created a dance theater work from a musical ballad that could have sprung from today’s headlines.

How often we hear news of jealousy turning to violence. In just the past few weeks, we’ve seen reports of a murder-suicide, and of a woman dying from burns allegedly received from a jealous rejected lover. These things are real, tragic and thoroughly unnecessary. And that’s what came across in the theatrical telling of this tale.

In this piece we see a pair of hot-headed lovers. She is flirtatious, while he is driven mad by it. She wants to dance with all the men, despite his intimidation of each man, one by one. They swing out of her arms and into his brutal threats, as she picks up with the next partner without losing a step. Eventually the jealous man loses it and shoots her three times. She falls dead to the floor, surrounded by shocked onlookers, as he is beaten by the 20 other men.

The whole community shares in the shock and loss of this senseless act. Her mother wails and the women veil their heads as the men lift the dead girl’s body and ritualistically carry her off on their shoulders. It is a work of drama and pageantry – a moral tale executed at the highest levels of artistry. And like all great pieces of art, it is a work that resonates with the audience and provokes discussion of the root issue it displays.

Which brings me to the point that folklórico dance in Tucson has reached a point of critical mass in which it is transcending mere re-creations of regional dance and, using that traditional vocabulary, telling larger, more evocative tales. Ballet Folklórico Tapatío is not the only one involved in this important moment of artistic evolution. We’re seeing it as well at the Tucson International Mariachi Conference in works choreographed by Maestro Rafael Zamarripa, and in local choreographer Julie Gallego’s Viva Arizona show. In that latter work, Gallego is illustrating through traditional and modern dance (even hip-hop) the important cultural crosstalk going on between Hispanics and mainstream American populations as the melting pot stirs through time.

These important larger works not only showcase the extraordinary talents of these young performers, but give them the tools to meaningfully express themselves in the greater reverberation of history and culture. I applaud all of them, and Ballet Folklórico Tapatío in particular, for their bravery, skill and artistry. They are exactly what has made my 21 years with the Citizen most meaningful, and it is delightful to see the next generation participating alongside these and other great masters of our community. They will carry it even further.

You can see video clips from the show attached to this story at www.tucsoncitizen.com.

Buckley: The Citizen: We are family

Thursday, March 26th, 2009

As you may have heard, the Citizen is currently publishing day-to-day as our parent company, Gannett Inc., negotiates with a pair of unnamed potential buyers.

We got the news of that negotiation process on St. Patrick’s Day, followed by a note at 4:59 p.m. Friday from Tucson Newspapers president Mike Jameson that we would be open at least through tomorrow. Not knowing when or if the end is coming is tough for many on staff who had plans beyond our scheduled March 21 closing.

While I admit I’m steamed that Gannett didn’t bother to share the information that it is bartering a possible 11th-hour save for the Citizen, I’m also glad we’re not gone yet.

As most of you know, my prime responsibility these days is creating video content for our Web site – something I’ve enjoyed immensely. But for the past few weeks, with the help of interns Brian Mori and Heather Raftery, I’ve been interviewing the staff in preparation of a Tucson Citizen farewell video to run if/when the paper expires.

We’re been asking staffers when they started with the paper, what jobs they’ve held here over the years, what they’ve enjoyed most and are most proud of, how they feel about the paper’s demise and what they think they might do next.

Not surprisingly, many of the answers to certain questions come out the same. Many feel that what they’ve done for the Citizen has been their dream job – something that never felt like work despite the grueling hours and personal sacrifice involved. And almost everyone said that the best part of the job was the people we work with.

It’s true. This crew is like family. When the sports guys keep the copy desk and editing folk late on a Friday night, nobody’s mad about it, even if it is 2 a.m. or later when we get out. We know that what they do is important, and that if we needed their help until late for something else they’d pitch right in.

We know one another’s actual families. We’ve watched staffers kids grow up, and sometimes had to bury a few of those kids way too soon. Everyone’s personal trials were shared by the rest. I’d like a dime for every time a Citizen staffer stepped up to help me feel better when I went through a rough time. When a crew member had a baby, got married or was just experiencing a financial hardship, we all pitched in what we could. When someone took a new job or moved away because a spouse got a new job, a party was held and another collection taken up.

Several of our sportswriters talked about the personal bond they had with their department members, many of whom had known one another since they were in college at the University of Arizona together.

Probably the most touching story I recorded was from Elsa Barrett, who has been the Citizen’s utility fielder for longer than most of us have been here. She told about going through an ugly divorce that left her broke, miserable and foundering to put her life back together. She was trying to buy a house in the middle of all of this, and having trouble coming up with the down payment. A grumpy old dude who, I’m sure, would rather remain nameless, quietly came to her and handed her an envelope full of cash. Serious cash. He told her she could work out paying him back any way she saw fit.

Now that’s family. And while none of the rest of us was that specific and revealing, most of us have a similar story of unexpected kindness beyond what might be expected.

I’ve only had one other job in my life where I came to love the people I worked with as much as I do these folks. From the mid-1970s until the mid-’80s I worked for a record store in El Con called Record Bar with a supremely elegant crew. One or two of them I run into every now and then. One in particular, who calls herself Mel, comments from time to time on my columns. I don’t see her often but when I do it’s like seeing a sister who moved too far away. It’s a shame that we don’t all keep more in touch – something I need to correct ASAP.

Thinking of that makes our current state of flux all that much harder.

My life at this newspaper has been so much more than a paycheck. It’s been the love affair that I’ve had with this amazing, diverse and wonderfully talented community. And it’s been the family I’ve developed right here at 4850 S. Park Ave. I was raised Irish Catholic, so I’m used to big families. Going through what we have over the past few months has made it ever clearer how much we all mean to one another.

I hope somehow the Citizen does get saved and that you never have to see that farewell video. But if we do survive, I hope to re-edit some of that footage so that Tucson can see what a wonderful family exists here. We tell the city’s stories all the time. Maybe it’s time we told a few of our own.

Working with schoolkids a labor of love for mariachi maestro

Tuesday, March 24th, 2009

‘Mr. V’s’ pupils again will open big conference

Mariachi instructor Alfredo Valenzuela, 63, has fun with the children at Davis Elementary.

Mariachi instructor Alfredo Valenzuela, 63, has fun with the children at Davis Elementary.

Across the stage of the Tucson Convention Center arena, 67 students from first to fifth grade, decked out in the matching black trajes – suits – of Mexico’s gentleman cowboy file quietly in as announcer Mario Celis introduces them: “Mariachi Los Aguilitas de Davis Bilingual Elementary!”

To the side and in front, their grandfatherly leader, Alfredo Valenzuela, strums his guitar to signal the beginning of the first song.

With surprising skill for kids so tiny, the group’s violins, trumpets, vihuelas, guitars and guitarrón – the jumbo bass guitar of the mariachi – chime in as the first of many pupils heads to the microphone to deliver a confident solo.

The crowd at last year’s Tucson International Mariachi Conference participant showcase went absolutely nuts when the group played. It has been the first act on stage at the participant showcase since the conference started in 1982, and will kick things off again next month.

For nearly 40 years Mr. V, as Valenzuela is affectionately called by all, has taught music to the littlest kids, 30 of those years at Davis. Now he is known also as Dr. V, as last summer the University of Arizona awarded him an honorary doctorate for his work here with children.

Whatever you call him, Valenzuela is one of the quiet, humble heroes of the community.

“I think Mr. V. is one of the great heroes of the Mariachi Renaissance,” said singer Linda Ronstadt, whose “Canciones de Mi Padre” and “Mas Canciones” breathed new life into the mariachi movement in the 1980s. Ronstadt will be a special guest at the conference this year.

“He is certainly one of my personal heroes,” she said. “He taught children how to embrace their culture, play beautifully and accurately and, above all, not to showboat. His students are always immediately recognizable because they are good performers with a great sense of dignity and grace. They always show respect for their music and their audience. Also he has rooted them deeply in the tradition and still allowed them room to be of their own time.”

Valenzuela, 63, grew up on a ranch in the middle of nowhere near Aravaipa Canyon. The family’s closest neighbors were five miles away. When he was about half the age of his first-graders, he caught the musical bug.

“There was no lights, no city, nothing around,” Valenzuela recalls. “But there used to be gatherings over there at night. The cowboys would get together and they’d have a few drinks and they’d bring out their guitar and start playing Spanish music or country music. I fell in love with the music there.”

He wanted an instrument but his family was poor. The essentials came first.

“My dad would tell me, ‘You need to work. Get shoes, boots to work as a cowboy, instead of buying a guitar.’ ”

When he was 19, Valenzuela ordered a guitar from the Sears catalog, instructing his mother not to tell his dad. An aunt who played accordion and guitar helped him tune the instrument and little by little he taught himself to play.

Not long after that, he was drafted into the Army. After serving he knew he didn’t want to lead the hard life of a cowboy. A friend convinced him that education was a noble thing, and he loved working with kids so he headed in that direction. After being discharged from the Army in 1968, Valenzuela started work on his degree at Eastern Arizona College in Thatcher, finishing his bachelor’s and master’s degrees at the University of Arizona.

Valenzuela got his first job with the Tucson Unified School District, teaching third grade at Mission View Elementary, transferring to Hollinger Elementary roughly three years later. At both schools Valenzuela created a popular guitar program. When Davis Bilingual Elementary was started a few years later, a curriculum specialist recommended that he be hired as a music specialist. He continued the guitar program at Davis. After a few years he suggested that the school start a violin program as well. And with the inspiration of the Tucson mariachi conference, the program morphed into a full-blown mariachi program.

“It started snowballing from there,” he said. “The kids got very motivated and I got motivated.”

It isn’t just fluff and fun.

“It really adds a lot to the kids,” Valenzuela said. “It’s been proven that the kids do better with their academic scores. And their self-concept. They feel real good about themselves.”

Beyond school it connects them with their culture, and with their parents and grandparents. There’s a huge amount of family involvement in the program. And as they venture out from elementary schools, many of the kids form their own groups.

“After a while it’s like a part-time job,” he said. “They start earning money and this is invaluable because this keeps them away from thinking about easy money.”

Very few of Valenzuela’s students end up getting in trouble with the law. And most continue on the path of higher education, heading on to college themselves – many for the first time in their family’s history.

Clearly, working with the kids and seeing them grow is a labor of love for Valenzuela. And the love goes both ways. “Hi, Mr. V,” the kids shout as they set up their chairs on a long slab of concrete behind Davis to practice. They run up and hug him. Children get words of encouragement and a hug after they finish their solos.

There is discipline, too. When Mr. V calls for attention, the hubbub quiets. The kids focus on the music making and dig in.

Valenzuela’s performing group hovers around 70 members each year. But nearly all of the school’s 250 or so students participate in his music program, waiting their chance to become part of the performing group. That batch of top performers appears all over town at special functions and private gatherings. Parents are always at each of the shows to help with equipment and ferry the kids back and forth.

One parent is Olga Flores, who holds a special place in the Davis mariachi history. When she was a fifth-grader at Davis, back when the school offered guitar classes only, Mr. V took her under his wing and helped her become a mariachi with Tucson’s Los Changuitos Feos.

“Back in those days the other kids would laugh at me for singing mariachi, which they called ‘old people’s music.’ But Mr. V changed the course of my life. He taught me how to perform in public. He always let me know that he was proud of me.”

Flores’ daughter, Selah, 8, is a second-grader at Davis and is part of the school’s choir. She takes intermediate violin classes after school. Flores said that her daughter receives the same kind of support Valenzuela gave her when she was in elementary school.

“My daughter comes home and she excitedly says, ‘Mom, Mr. V wants me to sing this song.’ When you see him with the kids, the look in his eyes is pride.”

That Mr. V is there is a strong recruiting tool at Davis, so much so that when he took an early retirement buyout a few years back, parents insisted that the school retain Valenzuela on a part-time basis to keep the quality of the program high. He comes in four afternoons a week to work with the kids; his son Jaime teaching the morning sessions. His older son Rudy teaches at Roskruge Middle School; daughter Myrna Salinas is a fourth-grade teacher at Summit View in the Sunnyside Unified School District. The family tradition continues.

Valenzuela’s dedication to the program is unmistakable. Over Christmas vacation he was operated on for prostate cancer. He was back in the classroom when school started again.

“The doctors think they got it all,” he said with a huge smile. His boundless energy attests to his health and joy at working with these kids.

Last summer’s honorary doctorate was much deserved. At commencement, Valenzuela sat in the front row with UA President Robert Shelton, astronaut Frank Borman and the other three recipients.

“I couldn’t believe I was there,” he recalled. “It was so special.”

Valenzuela is so proud of what his kids accomplish.

“People who see these kids perform – especially when they see them the first time – they are totally awed,” Valenzuela said, beaming. “They perform at a very good level and being so young, it really impresses them. Sometimes they tell me, ‘These mariachi hats are bigger than the kids.’

“I’ve never regretted it,” he said of the hard work and long hours he puts in. “To me it’s something that has enriched my life so much.”

Mariachi student Jazlin Ladriere, 8, has fun playing her violin during Valenzuela's class at Davis.

Mariachi student Jazlin Ladriere, 8, has fun playing her violin during Valenzuela's class at Davis.

Mariachi student Cristian Lovell, 9, playing his guitar during class with Valenzuela at Davis Elementary.

Mariachi student Cristian Lovell, 9, playing his guitar during class with Valenzuela at Davis Elementary.

Students at Davis Elementary practice mariachi music with instructor Alfredo Valenzuela.

Students at Davis Elementary practice mariachi music with instructor Alfredo Valenzuela.

———

IF YOU GO

The Tucson International Mariachi Conference

What: The Participant Showcase

Where: TCC Arena

When: 7 p.m. April 23

Cost: $10, children 12 and under free*

The students who take part in the mariachi and baile folklórico workshops have the opportunity to strut their stuff at the Participant Showcase.

What: Espectacular Concert

Where: Tucson Convention Center Arena

When: 7:30 p.m. April 24

Cost: $48, $68 and $88*

Headliners include Linda Ronstadt, Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán and Mariachi Los Camperos de Nati Cano.

* Tickets available through the Tucson Convention Center Box Office, 321-1000.

What: Mariachi Mass (free)

Where: St. Augustine Cathedral, downtown Tucson

When: 9 a.m. April 25

Featuring Los Camperos de Nati Cano

What: Fiesta de Garibaldi

Where: DeMeester Performance Center at Reid Park, 22nd & Country Club

When: 10 a.m. until 10 p.m. April 25

Cost: $5 for adults and kids (12 and under) are free!

For more information, go to www.tucsonmariachi.org.

Tucson’s first lady of fashion turns 100

Friday, March 13th, 2009

Still going strong, giving to worthy causes

Tucson's first lady of fashion, Cele Peterson, turns 100 years old Saturday.

Tucson's first lady of fashion, Cele Peterson, turns 100 years old Saturday.

Back in the early 1930s, when Cele Peterson opened her first clothing store in Tucson, she made a buying trip to New York. She brought along a friend to help her drive across the country.

Actually, two friends.

“I grew up in Bisbee,” Peterson says. “I never learned to swim. I never learned to ride a bicycle. But I did learn how to ride a horse and how to shoot a gun. I had a little gun on me because, after all, we were driving to New York.”

Since it was illegal to carry a firearm in New York and she didn’t dare leave it in the hotel, Peterson had to think. “I put it in my muff and thought, ‘Nobody knows I’ve got it,’” she recalls.

“We were at this one showroom and this guy said to me, ‘You’re from the wild West.’ And I said, ‘Sure.’ He said, ‘Do you carry a gun?’ I said, ‘Of course. Who doesn’t?’ And I opened my muff.

“Well I want you to know I got the best service from that company from then on out.”

On Saturday, Tucson’s grande dame of fashion and style turns 100 years old. She’s sharp as a tack, with barbed opinions, and still puts in time at her business. Her childhood memories sound like they sprang from the pages of a Western novel.

Such as the time her brother decided their mom should get that garden she always wanted, even with the rock-hard caliche below the surface and the steep slope behind their home on Quality Hill in Bisbee. The property was bordered by a junior high school on one side and neighbors on the other.

Somehow her brother swiped a piece of dynamite.

“We buried the dynamite kind of into the ground to make my mother a garden and set it off,” she laughs. “Can you imagine? We could have blown up the school. We could have blown up all the houses around us.” Instead it shook the houses and made a nice hole.

Peterson and her older brother weren’t quite as lucky when they lured their younger brother into an abandoned mine full of scorpions and snakes and closed the old door on him. The problem was they couldn’t get the door open again. As sundown approached, her brother ran for her parents. They had to get a welder to cut the door open.

“Well I’m telling you, we got a real whipping for that,” she says.

No doubt about it, Peterson has lived a life of legend. Through field glasses she watched puffs of rifle smoke from the Mexican Revolution across the border in Naco. She put a dead rattler in a candy box on Valentine’s Day and gave it to her chemistry teacher, who promptly fainted when he opened the box.

Today the mischievous girl might have ended up in reform school. Instead she became a pioneer businesswoman and one of the most important philanthropists this city has yet created.

Sitting at the desk in her clothing store at the Crossroads Festival shopping center at Swan and Grant roads, Peterson recalled the events that led up to her move to Tucson.

Born Cecilia Fruitman in Pensacola, Fla., her family moved first to Tennessee, later to California and then to Bisbee when she was around 3 years old. The move to Bisbee was prompted not by mining jobs but by the climate, which was deemed helpful to her mother, who suffered from consumption.

After graduating from high school in Bisbee, Peterson attended the University of Arizona for a year. She was 15 at the time – a source of great worry to her mother because college age boys, not knowing her real age, were asking her out. After that she headed east to study at an all girls school. She hated it and quickly enrolled instead at nearby George Washington University in Washington, D.C., where she met her future husband, Tom Peterson.

“Everyone I knew worked on the (congressional) hill,” she said. “I wanted to work on the hill too. I asked how I could get a job and I was told to go see my congressman, Senator (Carl) Hayden. I went to Senator Hayden and I said, ‘I want to work up on the hill, too.’ He said, ‘What do you do?’ and I said, ‘I don’t know if I do anything in particular.’ He asked me, ‘Can you speak Spanish,’ and I said ‘I grew up in a community with Spanish. I can try.’”

Hayden arranged for her to work for the Library of Congress translating documents related to Arizona’s history. The job took her to Mexico City at one point for research, but with photostat machines tied up in Veracruz she mostly twiddled her thumbs.

But she did meet remarkable people through that job, one of them a manager for Ford Motor Co. He had an amazing house with every room decorated like a different country.

“I made the remark, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice to have money enough to do all these things.’ And he looked at me and laughed and said, ‘Let me tell you something Miss Cele. Everybody wishes they had money enough. This year we don’t have money enough to paint the yacht.’ So that’s become a byword with us here. ‘Sorry, we don’t have money enough to paint the yacht.’”

Nobody had the money to paint the yacht when Peterson came to Tucson to open her first business at the height of the Great Depression. Her parents owned a clothing store in Bisbee so “I knew a little bit about fashion.” In 1931, with a pair of women from Tucson, she opened her first store downtown called The Coed Shop. That name stuck until she changed it to Cele Peterson’s a few years later.

“‘Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,’” she said of the risky decision. “I never thought that I was getting into something that I couldn’t handle.”

Peterson hit upon an idea that set her business apart – to market not what people could afford to buy but what they wanted to buy. She sized up her market and her customers and set about making a name for herself.

One of her customers was her friend Ruth Mary Ronstadt, mother of singer Linda Ronstadt. Linda is Peterson’s goddaughter.

“One of my earliest memories is going with my mother to Cele Peterson’s dress shop, probably around 1950,” Linda Ronstadt says. “She would bring my mother a dressing gown and a cup of coffee, seat her in a comfortable chair and bring out a selection of lovely clothes, many of them probably purchased for the store with my mother in mind. Cele knew her clients well. She knew what social functions they would attend and what their budgets would allow.

“They trusted her to dress them not only beautifully, but appropriately. It was a point of pride for her customers to look their best and she knew how to make them so.

“She also was a talented designer. She designed clothes that were both stylish and practical for this hot climate and slightly more relaxed atmosphere,” Ronstadt said. “She called it her Station Wagon line and I can remember items my mother wore year after year. She always looked wonderful in them.”

In 1934 Peterson married Texas-born Thomas Peterson, an insurance man who died in 1989. Tom kept an eye on the financial details of her business, leaving her to make the creative side work. Together they had five children: Katya, Quinta, Tom Jr., Eva and Frank.

The business grew and expanded with the town. From the original little shop on Stone between Congress and Pennington (and later downtown locations), Peterson moved the business with the times to El Con Mall, Casas Adobes Shopping Center and Foothills Mall before settling at her current Crossroads Festival digs. Her customers ranged from the rich and famous to ordinary folks from Tucson. Any who made a purchase left her shop in style.

Her business took her around the world on buying trips and fashion shows. But Tucson was always home. She cares deeply about this town and isn’t always thrilled with how it’s taking shape.

“I think we have a big battle in Tucson today,” she says. “I think we’re battling between keeping it a unique community as opposed to a metropolis. We’re not trying to be a Phoenix, and yet the developers are trying to make us into a Phoenix,” she said. “People are more friendly here. People are more open. People are giving in this community instead of just taking. Maybe it’s because it’s smaller.”

Peterson is a classic example of Tucson’s generous personality. Sister Kathleen Clark remarked to her at one point that she saw numerous abused children, and wouldn’t it be great to have a place where they could live in safety and love. Peterson offered a house she owned at Speedway and Fourth Avenue, and Casa de los Niños was born.

“Sister Kathleen was such a terrific person,” Peterson said. “She’d go anywhere that she heard children were abused and would pick up that child and bring it in.”

Casa was one of many charities and causes Peterson has lent her name and resources to.

“I’ve had a great career because the Lord blessed me. He gave me an obligation to give. How could you turn anyone down who’s asked you for a favor? It was simple.”

As she tickles the 100-year mark, Peterson is still an elegant presence in Tucson.

“Fashion is a way of life,” she says. “It doesn’t have to be in clothes. It’s in trends, in houses. It’s in your eyeglasses. It’s in whatever you do. Plants are fashion. Shoes are fashion. Your teeth are fashion. I think of this woman with her gold teeth. I could never take my eyes off of her. Exercise is fashion. And I still say life is what we want it to be.”

Happy birthday, Cele!

Peterson at about age 18 in a portrait she had taken for her mother.

Peterson at about age 18 in a portrait she had taken for her mother.

Peterson at about 4 years old, growing up in Bisbee.

Peterson at about 4 years old, growing up in Bisbee.

Peterson in her home in 1968.

Peterson in her home in 1968.

Peterson looks through clothing at her store in about 1981

Peterson looks through clothing at her store in about 1981

Cele Peterson and her husband, Tom, walk downtown shortly after she opened her first store in the early 1930s.

Cele Peterson and her husband, Tom, walk downtown shortly after she opened her first store in the early 1930s.

Buckley: Tucson drummer gives us inside look at Dylan on the road

Thursday, February 26th, 2009

As a child of the ’60s, Bob Dylan has been a huge part of my life.

My first 45 records were Dylan and Motown. I bought my first book about Dylan when I was in middle school. And my first Dylan concert was one of the biggest thrills of my life.

Over the years I’ve seen him perform six or seven times, and always was wowed by what an incredible band he put together. Even in his brief Christian phase, Dylan’s bands were astonishing.

One of my keen regrets as we wind down the last days of this paper is that I never did a piece on Winston Watson, the Tucson-based drummer who played with Dylan for five years in the 1990s. I saw Watson play at Club Congress during one of the big anniversary celebrations, but I was shooting video and somehow never made contact with him.

So when I got home Monday night and discovered a copy of the DVD, “Bob Dylan Never Ending Tour Diaries: Drummer Winston Watson’s Incredible Journey,” sitting on my doorstep, I felt like I might finally get the chance to hear the stories of one who had been there with the road master.

Watson evidently kept a running diary of his road experiences as part of Dylan’s band, from the time he got a call to fly to the Midwest to join the band the next day, with no one there to pick him up or tell him where to go, through the rather unceremonious split from the tour he feels was instigated by Van Morrison.

Watson also brought his consumer video camera on the road. His footage, historic video and stuff shot by fans comprises a lot of the visuals for the film.

Naturally it’s a slightly drummer-centric view of Dylan’s touring life. And if you’re looking for an “I was Dylan’s buddy” kind of tell-all thing, this ain’t it. But it is a fascinating glimpse into the touring life of a mysterious American musical icon that shows both how revered Dylan is and how lonely his fame has made life. Not that the word “lonely” ever comes up, but when you see Dylan in the center of crowds of the likes of George Harrison, Neil Young, Tom Petty, Levon Helm and others, they all look to be having a great time while he just looks like he’s been there, done that.

What we do learn about Dylan from this is what a consummate bandleader he is, how carefully he chooses his sidemen, and how while he may say little to them, in his economy of gesture and phrase he speaks volumes to those players. Basically the players are on one bus and Dylan on another. Not that there isn’t some “hang time” with him along the way, but there’s clearly a boss/worker vibe to it.

And it is work. Few performers have a songbook as thick as Dylan’s, and fewer still juggle so vast a repertoire on a nightly basis. On top of that, as anyone who’s seen Dylan over the years can attest, Dylan’s road show arrangements almost always are a vast departure from their recorded counterparts.

One could whine about the production values of the film. It’s not a high budget production. But the first 60 minutes of this 95-minute film are so packed with wonderful stories of the band, the road and Watson’s life that you can easily forgive the hokey green screen transitions. Even so, it could still stand to shave of the bulk of the last 25 minutes of the film.

The stuff of Watson playing with Alice Cooper and Warren Zevon is great, but the hype of him now playing with the Dylan cover band Highway 61 just seems like a bad way to end the film. Even so, I’m grateful to Watson for giving an inside look at the music making of an American original, and even more so to the filmmakers who recognized the anecdotal gold mine that Watson’s memories represent.

Grade: B-

Buckley: Dixon also painted portraits with words

Thursday, February 12th, 2009
Poet Richard Tavenner.

Poet Richard Tavenner.

If you’ve lived in Tucson long enough, you’ve no doubt heard the name of celebrated western painter Maynard Dixon.

You may have run across his paintings at Tucson’s Medicine Man Gallery, 7000 E. Tanque Verde Road, No. 16, where a permanent exhibition of his work is on display, or at the Tucson Museum of Art, 140 N. Main Ave., where a show of his work titled “A Place of Refuge: Maynard Dixon’s Arizona” hangs through Feb. 15.

But most of us never knew that he was also a poet of voluminous and high-quality output – a man who bared his soul in words as well as paint. Last week Tucson poet Richard Tavenner set the record straight with an hour-plus reading of selected Dixon poems.

Born in 1875, Dixon settled in Tucson in the late 1930s and died here in 1946. He lived in a mud-hewn house built off Prince Road and Tucson Boulevard, on a piece of land owned by Linda Ronstadt’s father, Gilbert. Ronstadt at times traded paintings for rent while the Dixons lived there, and often talked painting with him.

Dixon’s poetry-writing days appear to have stopped before the move to Tucson.

The setting for the poetry reading was an apt one – behind the train station and in front of the tracks, just behind Maynard’s Market. Dixon had been commissioned in 1907 to create murals for Tucson’s train station. The originals are part of the display at TMA. The trains also at times find their way into Dixon’s poetry, so having them intermittently pass behind Tavenner as he read seemed somehow fitting.

Tavenner was the right man for the job. A lanky cowboy-looking guy who has been a poet for 40 years, a board member of the Tucson Poetry Festival and founding member of that organization’s 13-year high school poetry competition, Tavenner had both the look and the sound to bring Dixon’s words to life. By his own admission Tavenner knew little about Dixon beyond his painting when he heard about the poetry and agreed to do the reading a while back. But it was clear from his performance that he’d found a kindred spirit in the painter. Along the way Tavenner offered historical notes of what was going on in Dixon’s life and where he was when each poem was composed.

The poems start when Dixon was 21 and end in the 1930s.

In introducing Dixon’s poem Tavenner noted, “He turned to writing for many reasons. He fought many battles in his poems, made artistic statements and wondered with awe about the land and religion. He recorded and lamented the passing of the western frontier without romanticizing it. He wrote of the Mojave, Hopi and Navajo, the pioneers and the cowboys, and explored the heights and depths of love and sex.”

How important the West was to Dixon was shared by Tavenner in one of his stories. Evidently a fire broke out at his home while Dixon was living in New York. He ran into the burning building, not to save his paintings but to rescue his Indian rugs.

You can go online to see video of Tavenner reading some of Dixon’s poetry, attached to this column. But to tease you toward that end, let me excerpt a 1913 Dixon poem.

“There comes a time when every man, in all that he may do, must be a man. To let the day’s work slip away undone, to mock a woman or slight a friend were untold shame. To strike the going center of each day, flash out the sparks of action and hammer out hard rock results, were a man’s glory.

“There comes a time when an invading stillness of the air bids him take respite and warns him to review the unbelievable procession of mankind moving across his eyes, distinct and small, merely a border pattern upon space, to note the slanted shadow of a rock, the quiet drift of ceremonial smoke, the last wild flare of autumn leafage, the inevitable downward course of sun were satisfaction. When contemplation so becomes a prayer, that simply to have known beauty were in itself a glory.”

– Maynard Dixon