Hi Kevin ("Mr. Moore, I presume?"),
I'm glad to see the major authority on Timba music join this forum. A warm welcome from me as well!
First of all, let me thank you for your great informative site.
To start with, I emphasize that my criticism referred mainly to the technical aspects presented in the Tomas Cruz method. I was trying to differentiate carefully between the particular product, Tomas Cruz as a musician, Paulito's group, and Timba music in general. The least intention I had was to offend the producers of the method personally. I know about your passion for Timba and Cuban music in general; therefore I hope that we'll succeed in communicating less on generalizing friend-or-foe terms, but rather objectively discuss the distinct points of concern.
Secondly, I have stressed repeatedly that I am close to ignorant of the musical intricacies in modern Timba music. To learn about the rhythmic side of it was my purpose when I bought the Tomas Cruz books. Which is what simply did not happen.
The book is presented as a series of specific marchas and gear changes as performed on Con la conciencia tranquila (which by way is now available very cheaply as a download from latinpulsemusic.com), but the examples are much more than transcriptions of one drummer's work on one recording. They're intended to demostrate that dance music has evolved to include the above concepts.
In this sense, the "conga method" might have rather fit into the formate of an academic, analytical-musicological thesis. From a conga method I expect a little more of a practical overview of generally applicable material. And where instrumental technique is considered (even on video), it should be more representative, likewise more generally applicable, to serve the needs of a learner. No matter what or how you're going to play as a seasoned pro (when you don't need instrumental methods anymore); a student has to start somewhere, preferrably at a point of "minimum effort - maximum effect & choice of possibilities to develop". This is the objective of all the methods for any instrument, and there are brilliant examples of well-known and lesser-known conga players who could provide the proper basis, at least for beginners. I don't know Tomas Cruz well enough to figure out whether he himself could have controlled his technique more to fulfill this task.
Most people, at least in some American-dominated internet forums, rather tend to politely join in a chorus of praise instead of daring a critical view, perhaps in order to secure their own standing in a climate of mutual agreement and respect, or maybe just in a mood of comfort. I am not socialized this way. For me, mutual respect, peacefulness and friendly manners are beyond question before, or apart from, any discussion about a matter of common interest. So, after having read those many positive to enthusiastic comments about the Tomas Cruz method, I thought I'd throw in a minor fifth to complete the chord, especially because I found I had some good reasons for it.
I find it ironic that the criticism comes from the author of the massive batá treatise to which I frequently refer, because the "odd personal" aspects of timba, and of Tomasito's style, are so directly related to batá music.
It is very nice of you to refer to my book in demonstrating the relation between timba drumming concepts and the construction of some
toques batá, but of course you needn't; the
cantos lukumí existed before I transcribed a few of them.
As a matter of fact, your hint to the batá connection was interesting and illuminating, at least for me. A direct reference of Cuban dance music styles to traditional Afro-Cuban forms of music isn't anything new, but the principal most evident resource had been Congolese music so far, with spots for Carabalí and Iyesá influence, while elements of batá drumming were to be found at best in soloing. However, I don't think you have to go as far back as to the batá to find a model for reinforcing and paraphrasing a song melody on the drums; bongoceros have always done that in Son and in Salsa. Now that the bongos have lost some popularity from the era of Songo on to Timba, the conguero has occasionally taken over this role. Thus, no quantum leap here.
The marcha lasts 2 or 4 claves instead of just one, and contains a musically interesting internal phrase structure
Mozambique featured a four-bar tumbao since the beginning of the 1960's. Four-bar structures can be found not only in batá music, but also in a familiar Arará bell pattern. Actually, I wouldn't refer to a four-(and more-) bar cycle in batá drumming as a marcha or a tumbao. The facts that (1) these cycles can extend over up to 12 or 16 measures and (2) the same toques are equally played
seco, suggest that the drums themselves carry a melody lead on their own, as opposed to just providing a rhythm that matches the respective song. There is a qualitative difference.
Anyway, I agree that there is a tendency of one-bar cycles to evolve into two-bar cycles, and the same is certainly true for two-bar cycles evolving into four-bar cycles. I think I am citing David Peñalosa here, but sooner or later I might have made the same observation. Guarapachangueo, which I associate with the same stylistic era as Timba, has a 4-bar cycle, too.
The singer or lead drummer produces a signal which causes the rest of the rhythm section to switch their parts, often with a break or bloque at the beginning or end.
Considering that montuno, mambo, solo and extro sections that follow ad lib passages of variable length have always been "cued in" by the singer, the timbalero or the bongocero (or the pianist), this is neither anything new to me, nor anything that is confined to batá drumming. The change in rhythm might not always be as drastic as in Timba (or batá drumming), but whenever a different rhythm is called for, like
doble tiempo or Bembe in Cha-Cha-Chá, or Guaguancó or Mozambique in a Salsa tune, it may be signaled "on cue". This is traditional African musical practice, which is maintained in every genre of Afro-American music, even in Jazz.
So I am sorry to conclude that I actually do "miss the three massive conceptual quantum leaps" that you associate with Timba drumming.
The job, at its core, is about playing a pitched drum in a way to relates to the arrangement as a whole, rather than just as a producer of short generic time-keeping patterns. The job, at its core, is to be able to participate in a rhythm section that, like a batá battery, is improvising form based on cues from other members. The job, at its core, is not to learn to imitate Tomás Cruz, but to walk through the door he and others of his generation have opened and invent a new personal and group style of your own which utilizes longer, more creative marchas, and creative, spontaneous ways of switching between them.
Kevin, thank you for this explanation; this is exactly what helps me in understanding Timba drumming, and what I extracted from the Tomas Cruz books
without even trying to play the patterns that he demonstrated. As I said before: “Once again, I will extract my 5 percent profit from the books, while I keep on playing my own stuff. And who knows, maybe I will have a chance to go and see Tomas Cruz actually perform one day, and I'm sure I'll enjoy it.” If there is anything that I learned about Timba drumming, it would be that there is basically no “generally applicable material”, as I called it above, aside from occasional quotations of traditional patterns.
The real quantum leap in Cuban percussion, however, as far as I can see, is a general shift from playing identifiable ostinato rhythm patterns to a continuo of collective, interactive improvisation that merely utilizes traditional patterns as a common ground for displaying "cubanistic" musical practice that is only definable by its manners of phrasing, articulation, and improvisation. Be it Timba, Guarapachangueo - or the ever-evolving batá tradition, which presently incorporates an improvisational approach to a degree that makes one toque sound like any other: There is less and less to hold on to for a non-Cuban like me. This refers to me as a listener as well as a player. If you don't expose yourself to this music full-time, you are no longer in; you lose the track. When I asked our bass player Omar (from Matanzas) how in the world the Cuban drumset players developed their distinctive style without sacrificing their timekeeping function in Timba bands, he said: "Look, these are hungry young guys, studying, working and hanging out together all day long, breathing the music. How could they
avoid to step forward and deal with the music like that?"
As I tried to express before: I hope that you don't take my criticism too personally. I greatly appreciate your work, and I'm glad to read you on the board.
Thomas