This is a famous photo I look...
during the October Missile Crisis, outside the Hotel Riviera.
The entire Malecón was full of antiaircraft guns and cannons.
We were expecting a U.S. invasion.
I took this one in 1959 in Washington.
Fidel placed a wreath before Abraham Lincoln.
The photo's called “David and Goliath.”
The little guy and the giant.
This is Che Guevara and Fidel playing golf.
Who won?
Fidel.
Che let him win.
Ah, the Buena Vista Social Club!
Compay Segundo! Darling!
We should ask these people, the older folks from the neighborhood.
“Where was the Buena Vista Social Club?”
Where are the old folks?
This guy will know.
We 're looking for the social club. - The Buena Vista?
That's long gone.
The Buena Vista was... let's see. You go up that way.
It's a private house now.
- It was No. 48. - But it's not there anymore.
- We're looking for the old location. - Sure, the building's still there.
- Between 21st and 42nd. - At 31st.
If you go up this way, it's right there.
- You used to dance there? - Yes. I was born around there.
It's a private house now.
You take the divided highway.
Ladies and gentlemen, Compay Segundo!
Eliades Ochoa!
It's that house with a line painted on the door.
It's been gone since 1944. We've lived here since then.
I remember the guys who'd throw parties at the Buena Vista.
In its day, the best bands in Cuba played there.
Know what I eat when I’ve had too much to drink?
Black cocoquetta soup.
Chicken consommé.
You take a piece of chicken neck and fry it up.
When it's no longer bloody, you toss in some chopped garlic.
I think there are still some remains of the bar.
Anyone who eats that will have no aches or pains.
You like mutton consommé?
It clears everything out.
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
♪ The love I have for you ♪
♪ I cannot deny ♪
♪ My mouth is watering ♪
♪ I just can't help it ♪
♪ When Juanica and Chan Chan ♪
♪ Sifted sand together on the beach ♪
♪ The way she shook the sieve ♪
♪ Got Chan Chan all aroused ♪
♪ Clear the dry cane leaves from the path ♪
♪ Because I want to sit down ♪
♪ On that trunk over there ♪
♪ Or I might not make it ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayan" ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
Attack!
From the front.
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
It's great, so let's enjoy it!
My son Joachim and I...
came back down here to Havana in March 1998.
We'd been here before...
about two years ago, recording the Buena Vista Social Club.
I've been making records about 35 years...
and you never know what the public's going to go for.
This turned out to be the one they liked best. I like it the best.
One of the great things about that record turned out to be Ibrahim Ferrer.
He'd come in off the street, kind of like a Cuban Nat King Cole.
You stumble onto somebody like this maybe once in your life.
We wanted to try recording with him...
make a solo record, let him be heard.
♪ Asleep in my garden ♪
♪ The spikenards and the roses ♪
♪ The White lilies ♪
♪ And my soul ♪
♪ So very sad and sorrowful ♪
♪ It wants to hide from the flowers ♪
♪ Its bitter pain ♪
♪ I don't want the flowers to know ♪
♪ Of the torments ♪
♪ Life brings my way ♪
♪ If they knew how I’m suffering ♪
♪ They too would weep for my sorrow ♪
♪ Hush ♪
♪ For they are sleeping ♪
♪ The spikenards ♪
♪ And the lilies ♪
♪ I don't want them to know ♪
♪ Of my sorrows ♪
♪ For if they see me weeping ♪
♪ They will die ♪
♪ Hush ♪
♪ For they are sleeping ♪
♪ The spikenards ♪
♪ And the lilies ♪
♪ I don't want them to know ♪
♪ Of my sorrows ♪
♪ For if they see me weeping ♪
♪ They will die ♪
♪ For if they see me weeping ♪
♪ They will die ♪
♪ For if they see me weeping ♪
♪ They will die ♪
Omara Portuondo!
I, Ibrahim Ferrer Planas...
was born in a small town in the province of Santiago de Cuba...
called San Luis.
I'm the son of Aurelia Ferrer...
registered as her natural-born son.
I say this because...
I want everyone to hear directly from me...
who I am and what I am.
At 12 years of age...
I lost my mother.
♪♪ I'd already lost my father.
I was left an orphan...
my mother's only child.
So I had to make my way in life.
I attended school just like my friends...
but I had to drop out...
because life back then...
wasn't like it is now.
It was harder.
I had to find my own way in life.
You need a hand?
We were just taking a break.
Rubén loves to improvise on his own, and then I join in.
So I started singing. “Compadre, pick up this tune.”
♪ Two gardenias for you ♪
♪ With them I mean to say I love you, I adore you ♪
♪ My love ♪
♪ Give them your full attention ♪
♪ They'll be your heart and mine ♪
Ry Cooder heard it too.
I'd sung that number casually...
just to loosen up.
And he recorded it.
♪ Two gardemas for you ♪
♪ With them I mean to say ♪
♪ I love you ♪
♪ I adore you ♪
♪ My love ♪
♪ Give them your full attention ♪
♪ They'll be your heart and mine ♪
♪ Two gardenias for you ♪
♪ With all the warmth of a kiss ♪
♪ Those kisses I gave you ♪
♪ And that you'll never find ♪
♪ In the arms of another love ♪
♪ They'll live in your presence ♪
♪ And speak to you as I do ♪
♪ You'll even believe they're saying ♪
♪ “I love you” ♪
♪ But if one evening at twilight ♪
♪ My love's gardenias should die ♪
♪ It's because they've realized ♪
♪ That you've betrayed me ♪
♪ For the love of another ♪
♪ It wishes to hide ♪
♪ Its bitter pain ♪
♪ I don't want ♪
Nice.
♪ The flowers to know ♪
♪ Of the torments ♪
- ♪ Life brings my way ♪ - Wow.
♪ If they knew how I'm suffering ♪
My name is Omara Portuondo.
I was born here in Havana...
in the area known as Cayo Hueso.
Two blocks that way?
My father was a famous baseball player.
He was one of the first Cubans...
to play outside this country.
They took Cuban baseball to the U.S.
My mother and father...
used to relax after lunch...
and they'd sing a few duets.
And that's when my love of Cuban music began.
For example, I started singing La Bayamesa when I was a little girl.
My father would sing lead and I'd sing harmony.
And the song I recorded on the album that won a Grammy, “Veinte Afios”...
I've known that one since I was a child too.
♪ What's it matter if I love you ♪
♪ If you don't love me anymore ♪
♪ A love now past must not be brought to mind ♪
♪ I was the love of your life ♪
♪ Once so very long ago ♪
♪ But now I’m part of the past ♪
♪ And I just can't accept it ♪
♪ If we could have ♪
♪ Everything we wanted ♪
♪ You'd still love me the same ♪
♪ As 20 years ago ♪
♪ With such sadness we watch ♪
♪ As love fades away ♪
♪ And a part of our soul is so heartlessly torn away ♪
♪ And a part of our soul ♪
♪ Is so heartlessly torn away ♪
♪ Here on the beach how Maria enjoys herself ♪
♪ Here on the beach, Maria how you excite me ♪
♪ Here on the beach how Maria enjoys herself ♪
♪ Here on the beach, Maria how you excite me ♪
I was born in 1907.
On the coast, by the sea...
in Siboney.
I lived there with my father.
He drove trains for the manganese mines.
I lived in Siboney until I was about nine,
until my grandmother died.
Then my brothers and I moved to Santiago de Cuba.
But I couldn't leave Siboney until my grandmother died.
She told me that.
“Grandson, until I die, you cannot leave my side.”
I used to light her cigars.
I was five years old.
She'd say, “Light me a cigar.”
And I would, from the age of five on.
I'd hand it to Grandma, and she'd smoke it.
So you might say...
I’ve been smoking for 85 years.
I have to work hard, because Ry Cooder's here.
♪ In the trunk of a tree a young girl ♪
♪ Joyfully carved her name ♪
♪ And the tree, moved to its very soul ♪
♪ Sent a flower floating down ♪
♪ To the young girl ♪
♪ I am that tree ♪
♪ So moved and so sad ♪
♪ And you're the young girl ♪
♪ Who cut into my flesh ♪
♪ I’ll always treasure ♪
♪ Your dear name ♪
♪ But tell me ♪
♪ What have you done with my poor flower? ♪
I learned that when I was this big.
That's it.
Music is so beautiful!
My name is Eliades Ochoa Bustamante.
I was born in Santiago de Cuba on June 22, 1946.
My mother, Jacoba Bustamante, played the tres.
So did my father. We were a musical family.
I was born in the countryside...
so of course I'd hear music...
from the moment I woke up in the morning.
Besides having music in my blood...
I heard music night and day.
In 1958, when I was no bigger than a guitar...
I began playing all around Santiago.
In the red light district I'd play and pass the hat:
“Support Cuban musicians.”
That's how I made some money...
which I took home to help out my parents.
♪ Along the road by my house a merry cart driver went by ♪
♪ His songs came from the heart ♪
♪ In his jolly way he sang ♪
♪ “I'm going to the ferry ♪
♪ To unload my cart ♪
♪ And finish another day of my back-breaking work” ♪
♪ We ride up into the hills ♪
Hey, compay!
♪ I work without rest ♪
♪ So that I can get married ♪
♪ If I can manage that ♪
♪ I’ll be a lucky country lad ♪
My days of passing the hat are over.
You never forget it, but it's in the past now.
♪ I'm a country lad and cart driver ♪
♪ And I live well on the land ♪
♪ The countryside is the Garden of Eden ♪
♪ The loveliest in the world ♪
♪ We ride up into the hills ♪
♪ Cultivate the hills and the plains ♪
♪ And reap the fruits of your toil ♪
Hey, how are you?
We've been waiting ages. You're late.
I thought maybe the cops got you.
Come on up.
Come in.
Make yourselves at home.
At one time, in Santiago de Cuba...
my grandfather was...
president of a French society.
It was called “El Cucuyé.”
A delegation of Africans...
came to visit him there...
and my mother really liked one of the African women.
And when that woman left...
she gave my mother this staff.
My mother was a firm believer in this Lazarus...
which I now have.
I firmly believe in my Lazarus too.
They call him “the beggar.”
He's a powerful figure.
He opens up paths...
and helps the destitute, you might say.
The other one's the same...
but this Lazarus is the one I carry inside...
the one who asks for alms.
I place flowers before him.
Sometimes I light a candle to him.
I give him honey.
See? I pour honey in here for him.
And lots of perfume.
Lots of perfume.
Every time I go out I spray him...
and myself too.
His little shot of rum.
I like it...
so I just assume if we like it, he must like it too.
So he gets his little shot of rum.
Sometimes my wife makes him a meringue.
You know what that is?
She makes it, and we place it there for him.
We dedicate it to him.
So that's how he gets all these things.
We Cubans can be thankful...
to, I don't know, the man up there that we are the way we are.
If we cared about possessions, we'd have vanished long ago.
But we Cubans are unique.
We're a small country...
but we're strong.
We've learned how to hold on...
through good times and bad.
♪ Cienfuegos has its guaguancó sound ♪
♪ Today I’m filled with emotion ♪
♪ I will sing to my land ♪
♪ To that famous region ♪
♪ Known as the Pearl of the South ♪
♪ Its women are the finest ♪
♪ Radiant as the stars ♪
♪ And for the elegant way they walk ♪
♪ They're admired throughout the land ♪
♪ Cienfuegos, I carry you ♪
♪ Deep within my heart ♪
♪ That's why with special pride ♪
♪ I sing you this inspiration ♪
♪ So you see, my brother ♪
♪ Cienfuegos has its guaguancó sound ♪
That's the ending!
That's how Juan de Marcos wanted it.
From the first note. That's the one we need.
Thank you, thank you. Beautiful.
Couldn't live through another one, I know that.
♪ Cienfuegos has its guaguancó sound ♪
♪ Today I'm filled with emotion ♪
♪ I will sing to my land ♪
♪ To that famous region ♪
♪ Known as the Pearl of the South ♪
♪ Its women are the finest ♪
♪ Radiant as the stars ♪
♪ And for the elegant way they walk ♪
♪ They're admired throughout the land ♪
♪ Cienfuegos, I carry you ♪
♪ Deep within my heart ♪
♪ That's why with special pride ♪
My name is Rubén González y Fontanills.
I was born in the city of Santa Clara...
in 1919.
At the age of seven I began studying piano.
My family had bought a piano.
It was a very good one, a John Stowers.
It was a player piano too.
It sounded wonderful.
When I saw that instrument, I went crazy.
I really liked it.
I'd do all kinds of things on it.
So I started studying.
When my mother saw I had the potential...
to be a great piano player...
she arranged lessons for me...
with a private teacher...
from Cienfuegos.
So I studied with her for one year...
then two, three, four...
up to eight years.
That's when she told me...
“Rubén, you're going to be a good pianist.
You have great skill with your hands.”
I was forgotten. I just stayed home.
But I wasn't going to starve.
I shined shoes, I collected trash.
I sold coal. I had a family to support.
I'm not ashamed to say that.
We moved from Santa Clara to Havana.
But in the capital I started feeling insecure.
I thought, “There are lots of piano players in Havana!”
So I began to study...
everything I could.
It turned out that next door there was a man...
who later came to be known as Arsenic.
He formed a famous band.
He heard me play.
But Arsenic was blind.
He wasn't born that way.
He'd lost his eyesight in an accident.
Anyway, one day he said to me...
“Would you like to play in my group?”
I said, “Sure.”
His pianist had left...
and gone to Europe.
So I took his place and played with Arsenio for four years...
and it was a successful time for me.
People talked about how Arsenic would get argumentative...
and they'd argue back...
and he'd get really angry.
You know what he'd do?
He'd stand like this...
and then lunge toward any voice he heard to grab that person.
But since he was blind...
everyone would just scatter.
We'd tell each other, “Keep quiet so he won't know I’m here!”
And he'd come at you like this.
He'd get really mad...
when people didn't show him respect.
He was a big, strong, fat guy...
and taller than everyone else.
I'd laugh like crazy.
I swear I'm not gonna smoke anymore.
Honest.
Well, just a bit.
Just a little.
And no more drinking either.
I used to drink.
Man, did I ever drink!
But I’ve got my bodyguard here.
She won't let me.
This is Arsenio Rodríguez. It's the best picture of him.
May 24, 1946.
The band toured a lot in Mexico...
and also in Venezuela.
This guy died a while back. Most of them are gone.
This guy's still alive.
He's almost 100 now.
Pascualito is his name. He plays the timbal.
Yes, he died in Spain.
Well...
I’m asking who wrote “Como Fue”...
and it's this guy Ernesto Duarte, but he died in Spain.
You always have to ask...
“Who wrote it, and are they still living?”
In case they may be here or they come down, you know?
Get 'em to come down. More people have died...
but so many are left...
so we always want to try to find those people.
They might be down the street. They might be here. Who knows?
Might be around the corner. You never know.
So it's 1998. We have to do the best we can.
So we have Ibrahim in 1998. We're very lucky.
- Thank you. - Very, very lucky.
I just don't want to die — At least not right now.
The man up there and my wife over there...
ought to grant me a bit more time to enjoy all this.
Because sometimes you don't get time.
That's right.
As long as I have blood in my veins...
I'm going to love women.
Because in life...
women, flowers, and romance...
are all so lovely.
One night of romance is priceless!
It's priceless. And I haven't forgotten how yet.
I'm 90 years old...
and I have five children.
You met Salvador and Basilio.
Salvador is the youngest.
I have five...
but I’m working on the sixth.
I want one more.
Well...
see you some other time.
One afternoon, out of the blue...
Juan de Marcos knocked at my door.
I was polishing some shoes.
He said, “What are you doing?”
I said, “Just shining my shoes.”
“I've been looking for you. Come with me.”
“No, I don't want to sing anymore, “ I said.
But he said, “Man, I need your voice.”
So I asked him, “When? Tomorrow?”
“No, right now.” “At least let me shower.”
“No, right now.”
He barely gave me time to wash my face...
and wipe off a little shoe polish.
So we came here to the EGREM studios...
where I found Eliades Ochoa.
He was here...
with Compay Segundo and the rest.
Rubén was at the piano.
When Rubén saw me...
he began playing...
...a number I'd made very popular here in Cuba.
It's called “Candela,” by Faustino Oramas, “El Guayabero.”
♪ There goes a dancing rat having a great old time ♪
♪ While a mouse drums out a rhythm to brighten up the day ♪
♪ A cat comes along too so elegant and affable ♪
♪ “Good evening, friend” he says to the drummer ♪
So I started singing the number.
And Ry was in the booth. It seems he had his eye on me.
He heard me...
and decided to record the song.
I thought, “Okay, no problem.” So we recorded it.
That's when I got back to doing my thing.
♪ Fire, fire! I’m burning up! ♪
♪ Faustino Oramas and friends, put this fire out for me! ♪
♪ Just dial seven zeros and the firemen will be right here ♪
My name is Orlando López, "Cachaíto."
I'd like to tell you a bit about how I became a musician.
I started playing when I was nine.
At 11 years old, I joined an orchestra led by my aunt, Coralia López.
My uncle and my great-grandfather were both bassists.
I was going to study violin...
but my grandfather said, “No, it has to be bass.”
It was one of those things.
I was a little afraid of the bass...
but it just took getting familiar with it.
My way of playing is to get very focused.
I like music so much.
I've studied classical music, every genre.
And I feel... I don't know.
For me playing music is like a game.
I played in lots of orchestras back then...
and that's how I met Rubén.
I'd played with a lot of pianists, but never Rubén.
Now it turns out we make a great pair.
My great strength is that I have a good ear.
I can also sight-read very quickly.
So before he plays a note, I already have that note in mind.
Chanchullo!
♪ Chanchullo! Let's dance! ♪
♪ Chanchullo! Let's have a good time! ♪
♪ Chanchullo! Let's dance! ♪
♪ Chanchullo! Let's have a good time! ♪
Amadito Valdés!
He's a wild man!
Go!
Chanchullo!
My name's Amadito Valdés. I'm a percussionist.
I use my father's name, since he was my main motivation...
in going down this path.
In the field of percussion...
the timbal is a very limited instrument.
So anyone who plays it must be aware of that...
and really use their imagination...
with this instrument that's so limited...
in its physical design, you might say.
It's a very modest instrument...
but one that lends a lovely color...
to popular dance music.
My name is Manuel Mirabal Vázquez...
better known as "El Guajiro."
I began playing at age 18...
so I've been playing trumpet for 47 years.
It's been quite an experience playing with all these guys.
If it hadn't been for Buena Vista —
All these folks were basically forgotten.
If it weren't for Buena Vista, no one would remember Ibrahim...
or Rubén, or Compay Segundo.
To see Compay at 90 playing the tres so well...
and Rubén playing the piano so well —
I think that's a key to the success...
of these recordings by these groups.
♪ Fire, fire! I'm burning up! ♪
♪ Fire, fire! I’m burning up! ♪
Barbarito!
My name is Bárbaro Alberto Torres Delgado.
In musical circles I'm known as “Barbarito Torres.”
I've played the music of the Cuban countryside...
since I was ten years old.
I play the lute, which is Arabic in origin.
The Moors took it to Spain...
where it underwent its first metamorphosis.
There they made a lute with a longer neck...
a little larger than the one used here.
Medieval troubadours brought it to Cuba...
where it underwent its second metamorphosis.
That resulted in the Cuban lute, the one I play.
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep and didn't put out the candle ♪
♪ Get the firemen here quick ♪
♪ And bring lots of hoses ♪
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep and didn't put out the candle ♪
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep and didn't put out the candle ♪
♪ Tell Compay to hurry and bring his hose ♪
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep and didn't put out the candle ♪
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep and didn't put out the candle ♪
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep and didn't put out the candle ♪
Ladies and gentlemen, from Matanzas, Cuba: Barbarito Torres.
Barbarito's on the loose!
He's crazy!
Lock him away!
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep and didn't put out the candle ♪
♪ Fire, fire! ♪
♪ I’m burning up! ♪
♪ Tula's bedroom has gone up in flames ♪
♪ She fell asleep ♪
♪ And didn't put out ♪
♪ The candle ♪
I'm Pío Leyva...
“the Cuban highlander.”
I'm Manuel Licea, “Puntillita.”
I’ll trounce you good!
A blank!
I win!
I'm the greatest!
I tell you, you can't beat me, Puntillita.
At dominoes, I’m number one.
You may be the best singer, but at dominoes, I’m the best.
- Shall we go join them? - Wait till they call us.
Puntillita! Pío! Come on!
Jeez!
Just when I’m thrashing this guy, I have to go to the studio!
- It's 3-2. - We'll continue this later.
Let's see how the recordings going.
- You can't play with me. - Give me a chance!
- What chance! - Don't get ugly about it.
I 'm particularly happy...
to have been involved in coordinating this project.
It's brought together all the great names in Cuban music...
who sadly had been practically forgotten here.
People like Rubén González, whom I consider...
one of the three greatest son piano players of all time.
Ibrahim Ferrer, one of the greatest Cuban singers ever...
who had sadly also been forgotten for over ten years.
And other people, like Puntillita, Pío Leyva...
Compay Segundo, Eliades Ochoa.
As an artistic undertaking...
this album will have an enormous impact on Cuban music.
One, two, one, two, three.
♪ The dancers are coming ♪
♪ And the roads are jammed ♪
Perfect. Perfecto. Bueno.
Barbarito!
Recording, please.
♪ There's a party at the cabin of Don Ramón ♪
♪ The pig is on the spit ♪
♪ The locals are on their way ♪
♪ They're gonna bring the house down ♪
♪ For Don Ramón's birthday ♪
♪ The dancers are coming ♪
♪ And the roads are jammed ♪
♪ The dancers are coming ♪
♪ And the roads are jammed ♪
♪ The bongos the tiple, and the güiro ♪
♪ All play nonstop ♪
♪ The bongos the tiple, and the güiro ♪
♪ All play nonstop ♪
♪ Because that's how these country folk are ♪
♪ They have no particular time to call it a day ♪
♪ It's been a custom in the countryside ♪
♪ Since colonial times ♪
♪ The dancers are coming ♪
♪ And the roads are jammed ♪
♪ The dancers are coming and the roads — ♪
For what I do — percussion —
Cuba is the mecca.
Here there's nothing but pure...
musical energy.
The udu drum, which makes the "goomp, goomp" sound —
They all got a big kick out of it last time...
for Buena Vista Social Club.
They all would laugh and they'd see me — “Ah, goomp, goomp.”
I became the guy with the funny sounds.
It's not anything obvious, 'cause it fills a pocket...
that so much of the percussion is going around —
The “one” of each bar —
That they usually leave out.
It adds to what I know Ry kind of has in mind —
A strange departure...
in a bizarre band that never existed...
back in the '60s or something.
Puntillita took sort of an interest in teaching me stuff...
and everyone's a percussionist.
And it's almost those who aren't percussionists...
that are the best percussionists.
They're the ones who have that light touch...
that's so hard to find.
There's no kind of learning like the kind of learning...
you get from the guys here.
It's so subtle and quiet...
and so powerful at the same time.
♪ Your kisses rained down in a tempest of love ♪
♪ An unquenchable desire ♪
♪ To join our lives in love ♪
♪ Yet in spite of it all ♪
♪ Your departure was my downfall ♪
♪ And put an end to all my dreams ♪
♪ And they won't be revived ♪
♪ Unless that day returns ♪
♪ That day ♪
♪ Of our last encounter ♪
♪ Of love ♪
How did this all get started?
My friend Nick Gold of World Circuit Records in London...
called me up and asked if I'd join him in Cuba...
make a record of Cuban music with some campesino musicians...
and some West African players...
which sounded like a great idea that had never been tried.
I said, “Sure.”
My wife and I had been in Havana in the '70s...
kind of poking around and searching around...
for this son music from a tape a friend had given us.
It had some of the most incredible playing...
and some of the most beautiful songs.
I had never heard anything like it.
So we got on a boat and went down there...
and snuck around and searched around...
and actually got to hear some good old-timers...
but I didn't know what to do about it in those days.
I didn't know how to proceed or anything, so we came back home.
Been thinking about it ever since.
So we got down this time...
and Nick picked us up at the airport and said...
“The Africans couldn't make it.
They got hung up in Paris. What are we going to do here?”
So we figured we'd just go ahead with whoever we could find.
And we started asking around...
and Juan de Marcos helped us out...
and pretty soon we had a room full of people...
including Compay Segundo and Eliades Ochoa...
Ibrahim Ferrer, Amadito Valdés...
Pío Leyva, Puntillita...
and Rubén, Cachao.
And Barbarito Torres, who is the laúd player.
Turned out it was him on the tape I'd had all these years...
that lured me down there in the first place.
These are people I'd heard on records over the years.
Had no idea if they were living or dead.
Rubén González hadn't even had a piano in ten years.
Hadn't really been playing. He told us he had arthritis and couldn't play.
Of course, that wasn't true.
This is an example of the luck and good fortune you have to have -
to find out that so many of these people...
were still alive and well, although forgotten...
happy to play, very generous and openhearted...
with their talent and their knowledge.
It was a fantastic experience. It was the kind of thing I feel...
that might be fair to say I've trained for my whole life.
It's something very rare. Like I tell Joachim...
“This might just happen to you once in your life.”
Flying back to Los Angeles, I started thinking...
what a great thing it'd be to get everybody together...
and do a show someplace.
By that time, the record had gotten so popular...
that these guys were all really busy.
The only place We could get everybody together was Amsterdam...
at the Carré Theater - two nights in April.
Everybody knows Carnegie Hall's the place to go.
The Cubans kept asking me, “When are we going to New York?
When are we going to Carnegie Hall?”
I actually never thought it'd happen.
But a lot of people worked hard and tried really hard.
And on July 1, we were there.
♪ I want to dance at the beach ♪
♪ Because the African's asked me out on a spree ♪
♪ On the beach I walk along ♪
♪ Omara helps me with a song ♪
It was a great night.
They loved it. I loved it. Everybody just went crazy.
But that would be the last show for the Buena Vista Social Club.
♪ Let me hear you play it ♪
♪ Whenever I ask you ♪
♪ How, when, and where ♪
♪ You always answer ♪
♪ “Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps” ♪
Look at that beautiful building!
- A marvel. - It's enormous!
It's extraordinary.
- These avenues are so beautiful. - Just imagine!
This is really great.
Really beautiful.
Are you calling Cuba?
There's so much hustle and bustle.
Look at the gun that guy has.
- Don't shoot! - Look there.
All the greats are there.
All the greats.
There's Charlie Chaplin.
- Remember Laurel and Hardy? - The fat guy and the skinny guy!
And look here.
One of the most famous trumpet players.
Who's this guy?
Who was the greatest trumpet player ever?
The one who used to play out under the stars...
and played the highest note ever at that time.
This guy was blind, remember?
A great piano player. And look who else is here.
It says right here.
They're all here.
- Who's the one in the middle? - With the saxophone?
No, next to him.
Let's see if I can remember.
I can't remember...
but he was one of the great leaders.
This is the life!
This is so beautiful! You can see everything.
My plane flew in right along there.
There's a plane taking off now.
So they must fly in from this direction.
- But not right over this building. - Let's go.
Ladies and gentlemen, Rubén González!
Where's the Statue of Liberty?
Over there.
With the big point on top.
Near those two towers there. You saw it when we came in yesterday.
- Near that tower over there? - No, this one over here.
That can't be the statue.
It's all by itself, on the tip of an island.
It's like that tiny one down there, but much bigger.
I thought the Statue of Liberty had a crown.
You can't make out the crown from here.
You'd have to look through the viewer.
You can't see the crown from here.
Yeah, you'd have to get closer.
But we know it's in that direction.
That we do know.
Let's move into the sun.
You want sun? Let's go.
- Have you ever been here before? - Yes, many years ago.
- Up here? - Up here?
- Who were you with? - No, not up here.
I went to the statue, and we looked down -
Who'd you go with?
Some tourists.
- That was in the 1920s, you said? - I don't know the year.
I was about 30, and I’m 80 now.
I want you to know this is the first time...
that I find myself in New York, in the U.S.
I’ve always longed...
to see this city.
I’m not an American, and I can't speak English...
but I think I’ll start learning a few words...
so that I can hold my own.
I wish I could bring my wife and a few of my kids to see this.
So they could see how beautiful it is.
This is just beautiful.
Look, Radio City.
At least I’m getting to see it.
I'm so happy to see all this.
I could never have imagined.
It's so beautiful. I’m really happy.
About two years ago...
I decided to retire.
I didn't want to sing anymore. I was disillusioned.
I'd been through so much. You know how life is.
I thought, “I'm bored of singing. I'm not earning anything.”
♪ I’m burning up! ♪
♪ The fire's burning me ♪
♪ I want to go on having a good time ♪
♪ I want a little something without having to work for it ♪
♪ It's above the knees and below the waist ♪
♪ Mama, I’m goin' crazy ♪
♪ The fire's burning me up ♪
♪ I want this good time to go on ♪
♪ I don't want to be burned up ♪
♪ I want to go on living ♪
♪ I don't want to die tonight ♪
♪ Mama, I’m burning up! ♪
Thank you!
Thank you, family! Thank you, thank you!
Thank you!
I tell you, my staff is like my mother.
I’ve carried this staff for 58 years.
That's how long I’ve had it. Since my mother died.
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight.
On the laúd, Bárbaro Torres.
One of the top singers in Cuba...
Manuel Licea, “Puntillita.”
Ladies and gentlemen, Compay Segundo!
Señoras y señores, Ibrahim Ferrer!
Ladies and gentlemen, Eliades Ochoa!
Top singer Pío Leyva!
Ladies and gentlemen, Rubén González!
Ladies and gentlemen, Cachao López!
Listen, the lady of the golden voice...
Omara Portuondo!
And playing the timbal, Amadito Valdés.
And Guajiro Mirabal.
Ladies and gentlemen, playing the drums...
Joachim Cooder!
Ladies and gentlemen, my partner...
and my brother, Ry Cooder!
Thank you very much for coming tonight.
Our conductor: my friend, Marcos González.
Juan de Marcos.
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪
♪ From Alto Cedro I head for Marcané ♪
♪ I get to Cueto and head for Mayarí ♪