# Julio Bartolomé Cueva Díaz

**Date of birth:** April 12, 1897

**Date of death:** December 25, 1975

**Categories:** Arts, Musician, composer

Cuban musician, composer of several works that were well-received by the population.

Native of Trinidad, now in the province of Sancti Spiritus, at Grace Street 14 (currently 164), between San Procopio and Santo Domingo, Julio Bartolomé Cueva Díaz was the son of a leather worker, violinist, and güiro player José Bartolomé Cueva Díaz and Josefa Cristina Díaz Piedra, a humble housewife.

Around age five, his father abandoned the family, leaving them in dire economic hardship. His grandmother Candelaria Díaz Villa faced the family crisis by taking in laundry and ironing for different families, while Josefa Cristina managed household tasks and sewed and mended for others. But their meager earnings weren't enough, and when Julio was seven years old, he sold water cans—two cans for five cents—through the old, cobblestone streets of Trinidad.

While in sixth grade with Francisco Zerquera, a music school was established at his own school, but the boy showed little interest at the time, despite his father's passion for violin and güiro, his uncle Bartolo Vidal's typical orchestra, and his mother's love of music. However, a transformative moment came when a children's band from Cienfuegos arrived in Trinidad to play in the Holy Week processions.

Under conductor Juan Harina, the children played cornets and afterward toured the town with their metallic sounds to collect coins. Julio followed them for hours through the paved streets and decided from then on that he would study music and become a great pianist.

He mentioned this at home, and grandmother Candelaria managed to enroll little Julio in 1908 at the newly founded Municipal Music School of Trinidad, directed by brothers Buenaventura and Rafael Dávila. His first music theory teacher was Buenaventura. While Julio preferred piano, the family's economic difficulties only allowed him to study cornet under professor José Manuel Lombida. Grandmother Candelaria bought the boy the only cornet available in Trinidad.

In 1910, the Children's Band was created, and Julio Cueva was one of its founders. That same year, he earned his first salary as a musician, playing at a dance at the society El Liceo. The band also performed evening concerts in Céspedes Park, formerly known as Plaza de Carrillo. In 1911, he became the soloist cornet player of the children's group.

To everyone's surprise, Bartolomé Cueva returned in 1912 and rejoined the household. He renewed his relationship with Josefa, and from their reunion came Ana Rosa, Julio's only sister, when he was already fifteen years old. But Bartolomé disappeared again, this time forever. Julio continued supporting his family's economy, now with Ana Rosa, whom he raised and loved as a daughter. Sadly, grandmother Candelaria had passed away.

He continued his musical development and in 1913 joined his great-uncle Bartolo Vidal's typical orchestra. In 1915, he took exams for the position of lead cornet in the Municipal Band of Santa Clara.

Uncle Bartolo opposed this and pressured the family for Julio to stay, as the orchestra would lose a good musician. But Cueva insisted and promised his mother he would move them to Santa Clara with his first salary.

He passed the examination and won the position, but director Domingo Martínez required him to study music theory for three months first, as Julio didn't yet know how to subdivide in compound measures. Years later, Cueva always credited masters Martínez and Agustín Jiménez Crespo, the band's subdirector, for their musical knowledge.

His professional career advanced rapidly. He toured three times with Arquímedes Pous's company under the orchestral direction of maestros Álvaro Herr, Jaime Prats, and Eliseo Grenet. A fourth tour was with Mexican singer Esperanza Iris's company. Starting in 1918, the soloist cornet player of the Villa Clara Municipal Band began composing danzones, many premiered during Thursday and Sunday evening concerts in Leoncio Vidal Park. From 1918, we know of compositions like "Ten cuidado con Irene" and "Campanario y Chucumbún."

During one of these evening concerts, Julio met a woman from Cienfuegos living in Santa Clara who was a music student at the Conservatorio Orbón.

In 1923, Cueva joined the Cienfuegos Band as lead trumpet, though he stayed only a few months before being appointed director of Trinidad's Municipal Music Band, with Félix Reina as subdirector.

Months later, maestro Cueva founded his own musical group, modeled after his great-uncle Bartolo Vidal's typical orchestra. These typical orchestras consisted of a brass trio, two clarinet duos, a violin duo, bass, timpani, and güiro. Cueva's orchestra, formed by musicians from Trinidad, included Félix Reina on first violin, Pedro Barrizonte on second violin, Rafael Zerquera Brunet on first clarinet, Leonardo Eloy Castellanos on second clarinet, Fernando Mario Domenech Altunaga on trombone, Juan Peñones on figle, Cleto Hernández on timpani, Juan Troncones as tumba player and singer, Rafael Pablo as güiro player, and José Zambrana on bass. Julio Cueva was director and lead trumpet.

During 1923 to 1929 in Trinidad, Cueva's danzon compositions were most prolific, though many were later lost when he joined the International Brigades during the Spanish Civil War. His danzones include titles like "7-24 o Que te puyen," "La melena," "El gripazo," "Cáscara," "Bodas de plata," "Estoy espiritista," "Shanghai," "Victoria primera," and many others.

"Tingo talango," another well-known piece, was also originally a danzon. Many compositions were inspired by local characters and events—street vendors, night owls, and neighbors whose stories became musical narratives.

In Caracusey, observing dancers Florentino Sánchez and Ramona Vázquez's peculiar dance movements, Juan Peñones humorously likened them to leaf-cutter ants entering and leaving their hole. Cueva composed "El golpe bibijagua" the next day, capturing this unique dance style.

His orchestra performed frequently in Sancti Spíritus, Cabaiguán, Fomento, Caracusey, Manacas, and other towns. Since municipal funds didn't always cover musicians' meager salaries—sometimes taking months without payment—the evening concerts in Céspedes Park and the old Plaza Mayor were suspended, forcing these men to seek income playing at dances in various towns, which was difficult without their own transportation.

Julio loved his hometown but knew professional opportunities were limited there. The cultural movement was minimal, the economy depressed, and progress seemed impossible. He needed a new horizon: Havana. He and Felisa arrived in December 1928.

At Los Parados, a musicians' meeting place, he secured a contract with the Campoamor theater orchestra under maestro Lagunas for $3.50 daily. Weeks later, maestro Moisés Simons offered him a position in his orchestra at the Roof Garden of Hotel Plaza for $8.00 per performance, from ten at night to one in the morning.

The most sought-after orchestra in 1930 was Don Justo Azpiazu's, performing at the Gran Casino Nacional. Azpiazu requested Cueva as his trumpet player. His professional advancement was evident, and he now earned $100.00 weekly. On March 23, 1931, Azpiazu's orchestra, with Julio Cueva as trumpetist, traveled to the United States to perform on Paramount and RKO circuits, coinciding with the Empire State Building's inauguration. The Cuban orchestra, with Cueva as soloist, performed on the eighty-sixth floor on opening day. Eight months later, they returned to Cuba, worked another season at the Gran Casino Nacional, took four weeks of vacation, and left again in 1931, this time for Europe.

Their first European contract was at the Casino de Monte Carlo for three and a half months. In 1932, they moved to Paris and inaugurated the Plantation cabaret on the Champs-Élysées, decorated with Cuban elements—palm trees, tobacco fields, large-leaved trees, bohios, and maniguas. The cabaret occupied three underground levels. They stayed three months, during which the film "Black Orchids" or "Wait for Me," starring Carlos Gardel, was shot in Paris. Azpiazu's orchestra participated, with the Trinidad musician performing "El manisero" on his trumpet at the film's opening. They then performed at the Empire theater in Paris for a month, then traveled to Belgium, where they played at the Palace Hotel and Pingouin cabaret in Brussels. Moving to London, they performed at Lester Square theater for two weeks.

Despite Azpiazu's opposition, Cueva left the orchestra in London because Cuban music was gaining momentum in Europe. He wanted to promote Cuban rhythms, publicize Cuban composers, and establish Cuban musical genres in the Old World.

In March 1933, Cueva traveled to Paris and joined Snow Fisher and his Harlomarvels, a group of two trumpets, three saxophones, piano, bass, drums, guitar, and singer, under African American drummer Snow Fisher. They performed for three months at the Explanade café in Berna, Switzerland. After this contract, maestro Cueva traveled to Spain, arriving in Madrid with his wife Felicia. He began performing in a cabaret there and stayed two years.

The following year, he received a letter from Víctor Jalkh, known in Havana as "el Turquito," announcing plans to open a cabaret—"a cave" for Julio Cueva. Thinking it was a joke, Cueva eventually accepted after repeated letters. For the orchestra he would direct at "La Cueva"—named in his honor as a major European attraction—he brought four Cubans: singers Caraballo and Ruiz, drummer Ernesto Grenet, and pianist Eliseo Grenet. La Cueva's inauguration took place on June 12, 1934, at eleven at night. After this contract, Cueva traveled with various ensembles to Tunisia, Tripoli, Beirut, and Lisbon. Returning to Marseille, he took a new contract directing the Madrid cabaret Casablanca's orchestra in 1935.

After Casablanca, Cueva performed at Satan cabaret with Madrid musicians, except Cuban singer Sergio Nicols and drummer Ernesto Grenet. He made various trips throughout Spain, performing in the La Zarzuela theater with a Valencian orchestra. At La Zarzuela, the Trinidad trumpetist shared applause with dancers Pastora Imperio and la Argentinita.

Three months before the Spanish Civil War erupted in 1936, Julio Cueva joined the Spanish Communist Party, declaring his willingness to die for the cause and urging his wife to return alone. Felicia, never separating from him, decided to stay.

Cueva immediately joined Valentín González's (el Campesino) company, which later became Brigade #10—led by Cuban commander Policarpo Candón Guillén—and eventually Division #46. One morning, news arrived of another anti-fascist Cuban. It was Pablo de la Torriente Brau. Commander Candón introduced them, initiating a friendship that ended only when political commissar Pablo de la Torriente fell in Majadahonda, and Julio directed the band at his Barcelona funeral.

Later, Cueva's band also played at Commander Candón's burial.

In 1937, Spain hosted the Second International Congress for the Defense of Culture, attended by Cubans including Juan Marinello, Alejo Carpentier, Nicolás Guillén, and Félix Pita Rodríguez. Marinello and Guillén visited the Pablo de la Torriente Brau Barracks in Alcalá de Henares. Commander Candón received them while Cuban officers, including Julio Cueva and Ernesto Grenet, had the band perform Cuban works. On December 16, 1938, Cueva received his Spanish Communist Party membership card #250,952.

When the Spanish Civil War ended, Captain Cueva, with other foreign fighters, was sent to a demobilization camp in Catalonia, then interned in the French concentration camp of Argelès-sur-Mer in March 1939 for seventy-eight days. He suffered humiliation, hunger, and cold, but his trumpet never silenced and he continued composing. In April 1939, he wrote "Alé alé reculé," a critical, ironic guaracha sung by his companions with rhythmic accompaniment of wooden boxes and tin cans while Cueva played trumpet.

Days later, he departed for Cuba with his wife and eight other Cubans, arriving May 6, 1939.

Shortly after, the Popular Socialist Party (PSP) tasked Cueva with returning to Trinidad for organizational work. He and his wife rented a modest house on Santo Domingo and Grace streets, but difficulties mounted and he found no work due to his known Communist activism. Yet he needed to support his mother, sister Ana Rosa, his wife, and adopted daughter Josefina. In this difficult situation, Amado Trinidad offered him direction of an orchestra in Ranchuelo used for radio broadcasts. The merchant, knowing Cueva's politics, wanted his cigar company's popularity to grow and wanted the Cuban Boys of Amado Trinidad to compete with Havana orchestras. Victory was assured with maestro Cueva.

Cueva accepted, structuring a new orchestra with musicians including trombonist Onésimo, bassist Riestra, trumpet player Remberto Lara, saxophonists Berroíta and Enemelio Jiménez, pianist Felo Bergaza, and singer Orlando Guerra (Cascarita). The Montecarlo Orchestra, with Cueva as director and trumpetist, was heard across Cuba via CMHI radio from Santa Clara. The sonority achieved and excellent repertoire made it as popular as Trinidad wanted. He then bought Havana station RHC Cadena Azul for the orchestra's broadcasts. The Montecarlo's popularity grew in Havana, but when the contract ended and Trinidad achieved his commercial goals, the orchestra dissolved for lack of new contracts.

Cueva and Cascarita joined the Hermanos Palau Orchestra, which performed at the Sans Souci cabaret while maintaining daytime commitments at Suaritos Radio. During this period, Cueva began changing the genre of many Trinidad and Santa Clara danzones, converting titles like "El golpe bibijagua" to guaracha, which quickly became popular.

Finally, maestro Cueva founded his own orchestra—a jazz band—and began working at Mil Diez, the PSP's radio station. Julio Cueva and his Orchestra grew popular, with Cascarita as lead vocalist, René Márquez as bolero singer, and other musicians including Manuel Licea, saxophonists, pianist René Hernández, drummer Israel Ñaqui-Ñaqui, bassist Salvador Vivar, and other performers with Cueva as director and first trumpet.

During those years, foreign music heavily penetrated Cuba, spawning Cuban jazz bands. Cueva opposed this, promoting Cuban music. Receiving PSP guidance, he composed pieces addressing current social problems and political themes. Guarachas like "Demokracia con K," "Cuba en la guerra," "Un saco lleno de agujeros," and "Un solo golpe a la lata," and son guajiros like "El arpa y la ORPA," "Castillitos en el aire," "Desintegrando," and "Sabanimar" protested the compromised republic's politics, racial discrimination, misery, and abuse. These works by Julio Cueva are considered precursors of what is now called protest song.

Cueva was cheerful, charming, a dancer, sociable, energetic, enterprising, lively-spirited, with enviable musical ear. Son of mixed heritage, with brown eyes and black hair, weighing about 180 pounds and standing 161 centimeters tall, strong-featured, he was an tireless fighter. During hard times—which were many—he suffered hunger and hardship but solved situations to ensure his and his family's survival, sometimes ingeniously, as when he pawned his first cornet that grandmother Candelaria had bought in Santa Clara, or when he obtained a false second birth certificate to attempt entry into the Army Music Band, which he didn't achieve.

Despite the economic difficulties, Cueva continued with contracts at Radiocadena Suaritos, Mil Diez, CMQ, and various recreational centers, never abandoning the PSP or ignoring Party guidance. He continued creating guarachas like 1940's "Cuba en la guerra," afrocuban laments like "Yo no quiero guerra," "Ladrón de gallina," and many others through 1946.

The country's situation worsened, and Julio Cueva faced difficult moments. On July 12, 1952, he pawned his trumpet at Casa Bernardo in Havana for $30.00. In 1961, musician friends raised nearly $160.00 to help with his prostate surgery and medical costs. He sadly learned that despite paying taxes, pawnbroker Juan Bernardo Otero had sold his last trumpet, purchased in New York, and its whereabouts became unknown, just as he couldn't recover his first cornet from Santa Clara.

In 1953, Cueva dissolved his orchestra, unable to sustain it, and undertook various work just to survive. In 1958, Felicia died, with both living at Llinás (now Santo Tomás) 366, corner of Retiro. Devastated, Julio rented half his beloved house. When the Revolution triumphed, he lived alone—Josefina had married Héctor Sorondo. He cooked, washed, ironed, cleaned, and ran errands himself, but maintained his combative spirit in new Revolution-assigned tasks.

On April 16, 1959, his father-in-law died; seven days later, his brother-in-law Octavio died. Rafaela Pérez, his widowed ex-sister-in-law, who worked as caretaker, moved her mother into her home. She recalled sometimes seeing Julio ironing his own clothes.

Despite economic setbacks, Julio Cueva undertook many tasks. He belonged to Havana's Musicians' Union and attended assemblies; created the Pablo de la Torriente Brau CDR Committee in his home on September 28, 1960, serving as president for twelve years. In 1963, Havana's Provincial Culture Council assigned him to a jury for the Second Amateur Festival. In 1965, he participated in juries selecting the best Havana musical groups for a Youth and Students Festival. In 1966, he was hired to teach music at Marianao's Popular Music Center on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights from 6:30 to 10:30 PM.

On July 19, 1968, maestro Cueva wrote to Commander Raúl Castro, enclosing a piano part of his revolutionary piece "UNIDAD" and his autobiography, offering his military rank as Captain of the Band of the 46th Division of the Spanish Republic's Army, requesting its use for the Revolution if deemed appropriate. He added that he exempted the sixteen compositions he was donating from author's rights payment, freely giving them to the Revolution as a modest contribution.

In 1961, Rafaela Pérez's mother died, and the following year, on June 17, 1962, Julio and Fela decided to unite their lives as companion-caregivers, both elderly and alone. Josefina later divorced and returned home, though she sometimes spent long periods in Trinidad with her brother René Arrechea.

Despite his years, Cueva maintained perfect mental faculties, and his music retained the same relevance. Yet, as he wrote on July 15, 1969, his only complaint was that in eight years of Revolution, not one of his compositions had been recorded, with only one song released—mistakenly arranged as cha-cha-chá—titled "No volverán a pasar." Between 1960 and 1975, without encouragement, recordings, or invitations to perform, the forgotten, humble musician wrote countless unpublished works.

In 1972, he retired, calculating fifty-seven years of work (seven in Europe and the U.S., fifty in Cuba), expecting about $100.00 monthly. His check arrived for $50.00, later increased to $60.00, as his pension was confused with ticket sellers'. In a 1972 document, he stated he didn't want increases, though deserving better compensation, but asked for recognition of his cooperation and future contributions. He had rights to better retirement, and didn't claim, but suffered a sadder reality: non-recognition, abandonment, forgetfulness. Yet he continued his revolutionary struggle until death. His last task was a mural for his CDR, done the day before his heart attack, requiring physical efforts he shouldn't have exerted.

On April 29, 1973, maestro Julio Cueva received the CTC's First of May Order, presented by Lázaro Peña. Speaking with the veteran, he mentioned his $60.00 retirement. Two or three days later, he was notified of a $25.00 increase. From then until death, his retirement was $85.00 monthly, plus uncertain author's royalties, as his music had ceased being used by singers, directors, producers, and entertainment sound technicians in Cuba's cabarets, radio, and television. His name and legacy were ignored by most Cubans, especially post-Revolution generations. Cueva never understood what happened to his music, once so popular in Cuba and abroad.

The Cubanness and popularity of his creations haven't lost validity: "El marañón," "Tingo talango," "El golpe bibijagua," "Ladrón de gallina" (also known as "San Berenito"—Rita Montaner made a brilliant interpretation—and "Cadencioso"), maintain their relevance. Time hasn't made them obsolete. Maestro Cueva knew this well and grieved justifiably, as his legacy has undeniable, irrefutable values never properly recognized.

In life's final stage, Julio Cueva sought to return to his birthplace to die. After his sister Ana Rosa died on July 5, 1975, his health deteriorated daily. Despite medical advice to see a cardiologist, he never did. At home he said nothing, but confided to friends feeling very ill, continuing to attempt moving to Trinidad despite daughter Josefina's opposition.

On Sunday, August 24, 1975, Julio Cueva returned to Trinidad for the last time. Despite sadness over Ana Rosa's death and his suffering, he felt joyful among lifelong friends. He visited his daughter, spending time with old companions like Heriberto González Villa, René Hernández Esquerra, and Llito Castellanos, who later noted Cueva always showed him new scores. His last composition, "Te lo dije, Trinidad," intended for the Las Cuevas Orchestra's premiere, went unperformed as musicians were on vacation. He couldn't arrange the move.

Returning, he sadly told Fela he'd failed to resolve moving to Trinidad. From then, he never composed again. His final photographs show a modestly dressed man in a humble home, with Fela and Josefina also poorly clothed, as living on such meager income was difficult.

Rafaela Pérez, who died January 16, 1991, recalled October 17, 1979, that one December 1975 morning she brought Julio coffee as usual. He drank it with milk, telling Fela the chest pain was returning. They rushed him to Calixto García Hospital, but he didn't survive the week. He died of a heart attack on December 30, 1975, around three in the afternoon.

Julio Cueva created no new musical genre but established a style—a personal, impeccable, recognizable school. His Cubanness-filled style impressed his era extraordinarily. Even now, hearing old recordings, experts identify him instantly. For this style and legacy of essentially popular, Cuban music, his work should be more widely disseminated—for those who heard him to enjoy and remember, and to introduce him to new generations who ignore him.

He died of a heart attack on December 25, 1975.