Analyzing the analyses

The texts I have been reading, have opened my eyes to the deep complexity of Latin music and dance, and the number of layers and perspectives to be considered when studying it as a collection of living traditions. Not the least important of which is the relationship of inside and outside, of the global roots of Latin rhythms, as well as the influence of Latin rhythms in dance and music traditions worldwide.

As explored in previous posts, the widespread reach of Caribbean rhythms around the world, often results in issues of (mis)representation. There is another curious phenomenon worth exploring which emerges from the fact that people the world over dance to Caribbean beats: they often appropriate them and mix them with their own rhythms. The emergence of ska and drum & bass are clear examples of global rhythms with roots in Jamaican music. But the phenomenon does not end there: these new rhythms return, like waves, to the Caribbean, and in turn influence our music and dance scene. Thus, the generation of new rhythms through constant processes of fusion and cross-fertilization is a staple characteristic of Latin music a dance. This continuous rhythmic creolization is noticeable in all our genres: from the original fusion of African, European, and Native American rhythms, instruments, music and dance traditions; to the recent phenomenons of Salsa in the '60s, with it's jazz and orchestral influence; to the reggaeton of the present times, undeniably marked by hiphop. As Susanna Sloat (editor of Caribbean Dance from Abakua to Zou: How Movement Shapes Identity) puts it, the layering of influences (from India, China, Indonesia, Africa, the Middle East, Europe, and Latin America) "have given the caribbean dance cultures a fascinating complexity".

There are other aspects of complexity to these living dance cultures worth exploring. One such aspect is time: some rhythms are abandoned over time, some others revived by folkloric troupes in codified versions for stage performance, while others continue to be embraced by the youth after many generations. Another aspect is social class. Often rhythms originally identified with lower socioeconomic status are eventually accepted by the upper class. Often times in Latin America, the change from disdain of a particular rhythm by the upper class to nationwide acceptance to the point of being identified as the national dance (as was the case with Tango), happens only after the particular rhythm becomes popular abroad. A simlar intercharge of rhythms takes places between rural and urban groups of people, as music and dance forms from the countryside originally considered rustic, rough, and unsophisticated, gradually become accepted in the cities.

In exploring cultural influences and social context, we must consider dance and music genres as living traditions. Taking into account the entire complexity of Latin music and dance requires exploring current elements and social functions as well as ongoing processes (synchronic study) as well as tracing its origins and historical development (diachronic study). Finally, an approach that also includes documenting practitioners and audiences, as well as performance processes, would provide an ethnographic basis from which to draw a sound feminist analysis. I must say, however, that most of the reading I have read thus far approaches Latin music and dance from a historic perspective. Even those writings that include descriptions of dance/music events, participant observation, and/or deal with identity issues, lack any detailed study of dancers and musicians as tradition bearers and as individuals, or of the events from a performative perspective. Thus, focusing on the dance and music genres as text and leaving almost completely out of the picture the people who practice them. This realization has struck me as nothing short of catastrophic, considering that if I have been able to reach any one conclusion thus far, it is that Latin dance and music genres are performed identity.