The Bar at Buena Vista

The curveof ruby red lips

Music swaying her hips

A smokin’ cigar

Oh, the taste of Cuba

The initimate Regal Theatre in Subiaco showcases  the hedionistic sensuality of Cuba in the 1950’s with The Bar at Buena Vista. Direct from Havana, the show is a mix of legendary cuban musicians and dancers casting their magic. Narrated by Carlos Bustamante, he tells the story of the infamous Buena Vista Social Club and depicts the bliss of a golden era. Most refreshing of all is that booty shaking, pelvic gyrations and flirtatous ineundos are encouraged at any age or body shape. Afterall, they are known as The Grandfathers of Cuban music and by the end of the show you will have dismissed all your misconceptions about  the older generation.

Synonymous as being rooted in a time warp, Cuba conjures up images of a languid pace of life. That is until the salsa beat awakens the slumber. Enter Papi Oviedo renowned as being the best in the world at the tres, a six string instrument originating from Cuba that plays only three chords. Lost in his music he only comes up for air for a pelvic thrust or two much to the delight of the crowd. Maestro Guillermo Rubalcaba Gonzales follows, and with his well-earned title of Maestro on the piano he is rumoured as having ‘hands of gold’ in Cuba. The crowd favourite is the 91 year-old Reynaldo Creagh. Oozing elegance and sophistication despite his walking stick, Creagh glitters in his golden raw-satin suit and sequined shoes. His incredible voice never once quivered and when he tossed aside his walking stick for a solo dance, he could have woken Elvis up with his gyrations. Retiring to his rocking chair he puffed away on a cigar allowing the audience to enhale a whiff of Cuba.

The Cuban Diva, Siomara Avilla Valdes Lescay, played her role well with husky tones and commanding facial expressions to torment the men folk into submission. Numerous storylines played out as love trysts and jealousies flared while bodies swayed and hips sashayed. Dancers weaved under the choreography of Eric Turro Martinez, who limbered into gravity defying positions in the Cuban tradition of street and salon styles from the forties and fifties. At one point he maneouvered three female dancers while bent at a ninety-degree angle.  Drums bongoed, maracas shook, strings plucked, and the trumpet blew the crowd away.

The audience also entertained as the group seated next to us included a couple of misguided ladies who were dressed in tassled dresses and feathered headbands. One explanation for their costumes of an era thirty years too early is their obvious intoxication, causing their dates no end of concern and several glares from the female performers. Behind us a lady spent some of the performance on her knees and with her chin on the backs of our chair. Msytified, we couldn’t imagine that she would have had a better view of the show from this angle. As the crowd seemed to unravel I wondered if Creagh’s cigar was laced with something a little more powerful than tobacco?

Before I lose all credibility here, few can dispute the astounding musical talent to come out of Cuba. Talent so great they overcame obstacles the Western world can only imagine. Former members of the group, who are sadly no longer alive, resorted to menial labour and sold their instruments to survive. These hardluck stories do nothing to dispel the romance and perhaps even fuel the passion to a dizzying crescendo only matched by masters expertly plucking their instruments, voices and bodies before us. Most touching of all however, were the humble looks on their faces as the audience exploded during the applause and demanded an encore. They looked quite bewildered at what all the fuss was about, after all they were simply doing what they clearly love. I’m not sure who was more grateful, their fan base of millions or they very artists themselves.  

For more information go to www.baratbuenavista.com