"The chachachá is a dead
rhythm," proclaimed Hermel. Hermel is a friend of mine who once
owned a record store in London selling Latin music. He's right you know,
well, at least from the perspective of most Latin Americans living in
the U.K. Both the rhythm and the dance make only cameo appearances on
our Latin dance floors. Club teachers and dancers don't seem to want
to teach it, or learn it as a dance. Hell, most Latin-club goers hardly
even recognise the rhythm when it comes over the P.A.
Legend has it that one Enrique Jorrin, a Cuban big-band leader in
New York invented it. He was watching the dancers and noticed the sounds
their feet made; they produced a "shar-shar" noise as their
feet moved across the ballroom floor. Inspired, Enrique left at the
end of the night and returned the next night with a brand new rhythm,
which he tried out on the dancers. The response was incredible, and
the chachachá went on to take the world by storm. This was the
early 1950s.
It's a romantic anecdote, and apart from any inaccuracies, it does say a little something about dancing then as it is today. Dancers and musicians interacted a lot more then, perhaps it's because we
don't dance to live music as often now.
The chachachá is a mid-tempo rhythm; faster than the bolero
and slower than the mambo. But all three of them (and including salsa)
are members of the same family called the son rhythm group. They all
have four beat patterns, share an accent on the second beat, and obey
the son clave. While not as romantic as its slower sibling, and not
as frenetic as its quicker ones, I feel that the chachacha is the true
rogue of the family. The chachachá has a cheeky combination of
quick and slow pulses, giving it a kind of tension and dynamism that
really is something special.
"So, how's it danced?" I hear you clamour. "That all
depends," I reply. Some people would argue that the International
Latin American version would be accurate. After all, it has changed
little in structure since it was documented. While it is still true
to the form, in that it is danced on the second beat because of the
accent, it is too heavily stylised and sanitised for today's club environment.
I recommend dancing your favourite version of salsa to chachacha music,
replacing the third step with two smaller quicker steps followed by
a slower one (known as cha-cha-chás).
As for which beat to dance it on, there are innumerable discussions
on whether to dance it on beats one or two. To be rhythmically accurate,
it should be on beat two. That way the cha-cha-chás would fall
on the proper part of the rhythm (which is what Enrique Jorrin probably
intended). Having said that, it's much easier for people to learn dancing
on beat one. And as a well-known dance teacher once told me, "what's
easier, sells". There is very little point in sticking slavishly
to dancing on two if it causes the form to die out. So when faced with
a decision between one and the other, have both! I dance on one with
less experienced dancers and on two with the more experienced ones.
The chachachá rhythm is still here in the present day. A little
like a film star whom you recognise but no-one else around you does.
Its musicians the like of Willie Colón, Fulanito, Illegales,
Sergio George, Jarabe de Palo, and Carlos Santana who have kept it very
much alive.
It was Carlos Santana's comeback album "Supernatural" containing
three chachachas, and particularly the track "Smooth" that exposed the
need to write about this not-so-forgotten rhythm. The same track sold
more than fourteen million copies and earned him a Grammy.
To be appreciated by so many, and to be recognised by so few... How chic is that?
Loo Yeo
