Ana Aguado García

From her childhood she showed signs of an excessive vocation toward music, which would initially be under the care of her mother.

At eight years old, under the direction of her mother, she read and solfegied correctly and, shortly thereafter, moved with her family to Spain, where, after settling in La Coruña, she would receive piano lessons from master Pillado and singing lessons from presbyter Antonio Díaz, a singer and notable teacher. Once she and her family returned to Cienfuegos, in 1883, Ana, at seventeen years of age, put her voice at the service of gatherings and artistic events, mainly at the Centro de Artesanos, where the best local society congregated.

With pieces of Spanish zarzuelas and arias from the operatic genre, Aguado triumphed from that stage with her dramatic soprano voice, characterized by great range and the beauty of her timbre.

Of course, prestigious Cuban composers such as Laureano Fuentes were not lacking from her repertoire, to whom in 1899 she would premiere the opera Seida. During the last mentioned year, the already called Cienfuegos lark went to New York.

Since 1897 she had begun romantic relations with her countryman Guillermo Tomás, orchestra and band director, musicologist, teacher and composer.

United likewise by artistic vocation, on May 19, 1890 the wedding was celebrated in the Brooklyn neighborhood, where they established their residence. Weeks later Ana appeared on the stage of the Hardman Hall by invitation of José Martí, our National Hero, who requested the singer's help to raise funds for Cuba's independence.

From that day on, Aguado became familiar to Cuban emigrants who cheered her art, while she multiplied her patriotic tasks. At that time she was at the height of her talent and her energies.

Guillermo Tomás himself would narrate one of the most moving pages written by his wife in those days: "The position of soloist soprano at the famous San Francisco Javier church had just become vacant.

The chapel of that temple had great fame and the high merit of its interpretations of great masters such as Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Weber and Schubert, made the holy place the meeting point for artists and enthusiasts not only from the locality but also from the outlying neighborhoods.

The chapel was composed of the usual quartet, formed by soprano, contralto, tenor and baritone, mixed choir of thirty voices and organist.

The quartet positions were filled by rigorous competition, which, combined with its excellent compensation, increased its artistic importance.

The Cuban artist Rafael Navarro, who, unknown to most of his countrymen, came to achieve the highest reputation as an organist in the United States, brought us information about the vacant position and the procedures required to apply for that position.

Ana Aguado, even not yet possessing English sufficiently to make herself understood, did not hesitate to apply as an aspirant, and I had the pleasure of accompanying her and serving as her interpreter.

Twenty-two was the number of competitors, all experienced professionals and two of them artists contracted at the Metropolitan Opera House.

The exercises consisted of sight-reading a mass designated by the tribunal and a piece of free choice by the aspirant.

The aspirant was lucky number twenty-one. She greeted the singers and the organist of the chapel with that grace and charm of hers, then submitting smilingly and diligently to the tremendous test. The work chosen by the tribunal was Schubert's mass in F, dangerous and difficult to read, which she had positively never seen before. There goes the Kyrie without a stumble, then follows the Gloria, and at its conclusion the other singers congratulate her, and when the organist is midway through the Credo a voice from the tribunal says: --That's enough. Next comes the piece of free choice.

What is it? The Ave Maria by Bach and Gounod. How she sang it! The women of the chapel embraced her, the organist predicted her triumph, while I, in a corner of the choir and bathed in tears, felt myself faint. Thus the modest Cienfuegos lark gloriously triumphed over her twenty-two seasoned rivals. After that triumph at the San Francisco Javier church in New York, as well as on other stages and festivities organized in that city, Ana Aguado continued her patriotic labors.

She attracted and reconciled those indifferent to the struggle for Cuba's independence, encouraged the undecided and added fire to the fervor of the most devoted.

Her personal charm and diligence intervened in the organization of festivities aimed at obtaining funds for the emancipatory cause of the island nation, whether by selling tickets in the streets, training groups of amateurs in the scenic arts to incorporate them into her performances and always taking responsibility for most of the program.

The Cuban press in New York would echo in its columns the activities of the Cienfuegos lark. In 1897 her son Enrique came into the world.

Absorbed by the care of the child she resigned from her position at the San Francisco Javier Church to devote herself to her role as a mother.

During that period she and Guillermo Tomás received the news of the triumph of the Cubans in arms and determined to return to Havana. From the first moment on Cuban soil, Aguado attempted to revalidate her laurels before the Havana public and had her voice heard at the López Hall before a large audience.

But, unfortunately, a bronchial condition conspired against that wonderful throat. Her voice, except for transitory moments of return to health, never again reached its former strength. During these adverse circumstances of her life, she endeavored in pedagogy for which she possessed extraordinary aptitudes.

She came to occupy the subdirection and teaching of singing at the Municipal School of Music, founded by her husband. Between 1908 and 1913 she sang in the Nacional and Payret theaters in famous concerts organized and directed by her spouse, now in his capacity as director of the Municipal Band of Havana.

Serafín Pro, Hubert de Blanck, Serafín Ramírez and Blanche Baralt consecrated her in their chronicles. But the bronchial ailment worsened and on May 6, 1921 it put an end to the existence of Ana Aguado.

At the behest of her voice hundreds of Cubans had offered their lives for the homeland.

Martí underscored it in a letter sent to the artist: When one is about to die it is necessary to hear a woman's voice first.