To Omara, my respects

October 21, 2020

The last time I heard Omara Portuondo live was at the Jazz Plaza 2020, in January. From then until now, there have been many activities to honor the diva of Buena Vista Social Club, as few people reach 90 years of age with a career dedicated entirely to Cuban culture.

Omara Portuondo is known throughout Cuba as the woman I saw that night in the Avellaneda hall of the National Theater of Cuba: friendly, smiling, who dances despite the inevitable effects of the passage of time. That night she didn't want to stop, because Omara is like that, she's not satisfied unless she's making the audience dance and enjoy themselves. I remember her like that, in green, with her characteristic scarf topped with a large bow on her head, so much of a diva, so much Omara.

Beyond her undeniable sonic qualities—for those who know about music and even for those who don't—the girlfriend of feeling is distinguished by her Cubanness, that same quality she has defended for more than seven decades across all continents. She is one of those artists who are part of the list of what is most valuable and shines brightest in Cuban culture, and above all things, she is proud to be part of it.

Omara has perfect synchronization in her voice, a cadence like few others, and a musical harmony that captivates. Along with charisma and the ability to improvise, the performance becomes magic, magic that attracts and makes it inevitable that her choruses are followed in unison by the audience.

Who hasn't heard "Dos gardenias" or "Lágrimas negras" in the voice of Omara Portuondo. She carries art in her DNA, in her blood, in her body. The skin of those who listen to her bristles from the first note. Her voice doesn't change, even as the years pass, the same voice that distinguished her in the quartet Las D'Aida.

National Prize in Music (2006), Latin Grammy (2009), Gitana Tropical Distinction from the Provincial Direction of Culture of Havana (2012), La Mar de Músicas Prize 2013, Lázaro Peña Order of the First Degree (2017), Doctor Honoris Causa awarded by a Mexican foundation of academics (2017), Doctor Honoris Causa in Arts granted by the University of the Arts (2018), are some of the distinctions and merits obtained by the Cuban artist. All of them, each and every one, well-deserved.

Omara has not stopped her work in recent times. She's in Matanzas one moment, singing to Havana the next, performing concerts with Roberto Fonseca or singing alongside Cimafunk. Omara is undoubtedly a woman of the people. To think of Omara without thinking of Cuba would not be possible. She has a pact with art and carries it as a banner. And today, Cuban culture on its day, pauses to honor her.

Not long ago I was asked to make a list with four questions, just four, in case I had the opportunity to interview her. Hundreds of options came to mind: How much did being born in the Cayo Hueso neighborhood influence Omara? What does music mean to Omara? What is Omara's greatest contribution to Cuban culture? How would she like the people to remember her when she is no longer here? Hundreds of questions, and I only thought about the answer to the last one.

At least I will remember her as warm as that day in the Avellaneda hall of the National Theater. There she stated that Omara would exist for a while longer, and if there is anything I don't doubt, it's that, because there are people who arrive and the mark they leave is so great that it's impossible to erase it. To Omara, my respects.

Taken from: https://www.cubadebate.cu/especiales/2020/10/20/a-omara-mis-respetos/#.X5BQKEJKiro