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10. Singing Female Subjectivities
- Wesleyan University Press
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c h a p t e r t e n Singing Female Subjectivities Postmodern critics and feminists have identified a new era of women’s participation in high and low cultures. This is clearly evident, for instance, in the emergence of “women-identified music” recording studios in the United States, a countermovement that arose against the misogynist lyrics of rock and roll.1 However, the creative and political presence of women composers, producers, and performers in the terrain of Latin popular music is not as evident as their transformative role in other arts like film production , theory and criticism, narrative, and poetry. This is not to say, however, that women have not participated in the composition or performance of Latin music. To be rendered invisible is not synonymous with a lack of agency. A closer look at histories of Latin American popular music, particularly in Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Mexico, attest to the pervading presence and agency of women not only as singers but also as composers.2 “Babalú,” the Cuban song interpreted by Miguelito Valdez and later popularized on television by Desi Arnaz in the 1950s, was composed by Margarita Lecuona.3 The bomba titled “Maquinolandera,” deployed by Rosario Ferré in the short story of the same title, was composed by Margarita Rivera, Ismael Rivera’s mother, more familiarly known in Puerto Rico as Doña Margot . As seen earlier, the textual female subjectivity in the plena “Mamita, llegó el Obispo” possibly indicates a woman’s authorship veiled under the anonymity imposed by the institution of folklore. These few examples only begin to tell the story of women’s agency and authorial power in popular culture, an issue that claims urgent historical documentation. This historical veiling, moreover, has been coupled with the discriminatory practice of restricting women’s participation to that of mostly vocalists , rather than opening up other roles such as instrumentalists, composers , arrangers, and most important, directors of groups. The major exception to this pattern is the emergence of eleven all-female salsa bands in Cali, Colombia, since 1990. According to Umberto Valverde and Rafael d i s s o n a n t m e l o d i e s / 172 Quintero,4 this phenomenon was made possible by the central importance of dancing in Cali’s urban culture, which historically has offered women access to music and has created a demand for musicians. Most important, I believe, is the presence of institutions of training in musical and popular cultural arts such as the Instituto Popular de Cultura, the University of Valle, Bellas Artes, and the Academia de Música Valdiri. In addition, the success of these performers has been attributed to their keen sense of discipline and professionalism, a result, in turn, of their position as women in a male-dominated industry. Lise Waxer, currently living in Cali, is completing ethnographic work on Cali’s women salseras and is playing in an allfemale Latin jazz band called Magenta. Rayda Cotto, a black Puerto Rican musical director, performer, and composer, argues that these boundaries are racially marked as she calls into question the persistent whitened images of women in musical events and televised performances.5 As Cotto notes, black Puerto Rican women have less access to these roles than do their white counterparts. Generally speaking , women’s absence from the stage is also a result of their lack of access to the public space of the street, where younger musicians receive their training by participating in informal jam sessions. A “decent woman,” says Latin society, does not belong in jam sessions nor in the masculine spaces of nightclubs, touring, and cast parties. The fact that Latinas have historically achieved more prominence as vocalists than in other musical roles suggests a process of containment in their professional development and opportunities. Women singers are allowed to perform onstage as long as they sing the words of others and as long as, in some cases, they play to the desires and fantasies of a male audience whose gaze continues to objectify female bodies. Such is the case of Las Chicas del Can, a female merengue group whose repertoire is wholly penned by men and whose stage presence and dress also seem to be defined according to masculine dictates of female objectification. While it is true that this group has had some impact on Latina fans, mostly by serving as role models for those younger women who aspire to sing and perform, I find no ideological ambivalence in the...