By Achy Obejas. Chicago Tribune Staff Writer. January 24, 2000
A More Natural, Smoother Albita Plays House Of Blues
Albita's curse is that her artistry has always been too big, too much. And no one, perhaps not even Albita herself, knows quite what to do with it.
In Cuba, where the 37-year-old began her career, she was a regular on "Palmas y Canas," a kind of Cuban-style "Hee Haw," and she fairly burst out of the screen. While her cohorts played in simple traditional styles, you could already hear Albita--raised in the city,
regardless of her countrified lyrics--influenced by the sounds of urban jazz, rock and salsa.
Arriving in Miami, Albita got caught in the orbit of Emilio Estefan, who dazzled her with promises of big hits and stardom. And Estefan did deliver somewhat: Albita got plenty of press, praises from Madonna and Grammy nods for each of her U.S. releases.
But what Estefan couldn't do is get his arms around her talent. The biggest problem came with his insistence on marketing her as a salsa phenom when he had never had any success in that market himself.
Her last release under Estefan's tutelage, "Una Mujer Como Yo," was a great dance record, but it had nothing to do with the kind of soulful, meaningful music Albita can make when left to her own muse. Not surprisingly, it bombed.
The last year has been especially tough for Albita. After having gone along with Estefan's manipulations, she had to watch from the sidelines as the Buena Vista Social Club sensation reawakened interest in (and sales of) the music that's always been closer to her heart. Estefan dropped her after
letting her record an album's worth of new songs. And then her entire band imploded amid walkouts and firings.
When Albita took the stage Friday at a packed House of Blues, no one was quite sure what to expect, but her elfin new look signaled a change. Her new band eliminated the unnecessary horns added in its last incarnation (there's still an occasional but tasteful sax) and put more of a focus on
stringed instruments. Besides adding a permanent guitar, she has also hired a tres player. Working with less of a choreographed cabaret act (even less would be better), she seemed more natural, smoother, more spontaneous.
On a couple of songs, Albita dared to slow the pace and play guitar herself -- she's excellent -- showcasing her impressively powerful and nuanced voice. It may be the best she has ever sounded -- and Albita, whatever her commercial predicament, has always been a singer extraordinaire.
But her curse persists. Neither the current band -- playing what was perhaps its third public performance -- nor the material can match her sheer talent. More than once, the overeager new players left her hanging; at one point, Albita turned to the drummer and exhorted him: "Dale duro!
(Kick it!)," but he stumbled, barely able to keep up. The idea of the tres is excellent, but the current player needs polish.
If only Albita realized that the audience is not there just to dance -- they're there to see her, to listen. If only she realized she doesn't have to meet anyone's expectations, that with her kind of ability it's a free ride if she'll just trust it. |