‘From Bolivia, heart of dark skinned America, we come: miners, Indian peasants, students, men, women and children. We form a circle of raised fists, we say to those who stomp on our flag and steal our resource, “Enough. It’s time for rebellion!”‘

So spoke Nilo Soruco, a famous protest singer banned under the Bolivian leadership of the 1970s. Soruco wrote over 300 songs committed to the social and political struggles of South America, preaching justice and equality for his homeland.

The roots of modern Bolivian protest music can be traced back to the Spanish civil war (1936–1939). During this war music acted as a vessel, carrying the hopes of those fighting against Franco’s fascist army. These songs of freedom were carried over to Latin America on the backs of Spanish immigrants. South American protest music evolved from this moment, first gradually, then overwhelming in 1959, galvanised by the Cuban revolution. Cuban musical trends like the Nueva Trova, which harmonised revolutionary lyrics with traditional Cuban rhythms, nurtured the roots of a musical resistance across the continent, urging the working class to stand up and change their situation. Its lyrics spoke a socialist message of empowerment to the poor and oppressed.

The movement gathered a great Bolivian following amongst a number of musicians and activists of the time. In Nueva Trova style, traditional harmonies were combined with messages of social change by the likes of Benjo Cruz, an Argentinian-born Bolivian during the late 1960s, who became known as one of Bolivia’s most famous and influential folk singers. His politically charged songs mirrored the feelings of people under the military government, stirring civil unrest within the country. In 1970 Cruz exchanged his folk guitar for a gun and joined a group of guerrilla fighters. He died of exposure before ever being involved in any real combat situations, becoming a martyr for his cause like many fallen activists before him. But one cannot underestimate the impact his powerful voice and haunting lyrics had on the South American freedom movement.

Cruz’s lyrics went on to inspire during the turbulent, dark times of the 1970s and 80s. In 1971 Colonel Hugo Banzer Suarez seized control of Bolivia after staging a violent military coup. Banzer’s reign as dictator proved to be a gruesome and bloody time in Bolivian history, during which thousands fled to seek asylum in other countries. In 1974 a price increase in basic goods lead to a peasant uprising, where locals formed roadblocks in Cochabamba singing songs of resistance and calling for a change. They were then brutally slaughtered by the military.

The chaos of the 1970s and 80s did however give rise to new generation of singers willing to give their voices to another cause: a new generation that replaced rhythmic strumming of the folk guitar with the speed and fury of hip-hop. This unique blend of Andean folk styles, traditional harmonies, blinding intensity and lyrics that speak to the youth is known as wayna rap. It is music created to speak to young people, show them the injustices of the world they live in and inspire them to try and change that world. New sounds, new tempos, yet they speak with the same message: let us stand up for injustice and sing songs of freedom.

David Handel’s much-lauded tenure as the head of the Orquesta Sinfónica Nacional de Bolivia has come to an end. Helena Cavell has a conversation with him about his time here and the precarious state of the orchestra without

David Handel has led the Orquesta Sinfónica Nacional de Bolivia (OSN) for the past fourteen years. Once maligned as unprofessional by its audience and collaborators, under Handel’s stewardship the orchestra has gained respect as a talented and organised company of musicians. But his recent departure earlier this year – he’s now lending his baton as the guest conductor of the Moscow City Symphony, among other companies – has left the orchestra in a state of uncertainty and concern for its future; unaware of how to proceed following its loss, the OSN finds itself in a state of limbo.

Handel, however, retains a positive outlook for the company’s future. He hopes the work he did with it over the last fourteen years has provided the OSN with the ability to continue in the same successful vein. ‘My sincerest hope is that the values and procedures that we installed during my tenure [will] be dutifully respected by everyone. We created a level of expectation, and it is now in the hands of others to maintain or surpass that level of expectation. My tenure with the OSN de Bolivia was fourteen years, a long tenure by any standard. Therefore, my departure is probably something akin to a young man/woman’s departure from his home to go off to university. It means for everyone a change of lifestyle, ambience, but one hopes that the values which have been instilled remain present in spirit and action’.

Under Handel’s leadership, the OSN has made considerable progress. On arrival in La Paz, in 1998, he faced significant challenges, including a lack of private sector support, a lack of a permanent concert hall in which to perform, lax discipline and what he describes as ‘unprofessional standards in terms of rehearsal and concert procedures and artistic expectations . . . it obviously meant lots of dedication and hard work’. Handel’s strategy was to encourage a sense of professionalism in the company, sowing in it a ‘culture of excellence’ and demanding the highest level of musicianship the members could provide. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, the OSN is a larger company, with more skilled musicians who now play in their own concert hall, the Centro Sinfónico Nacional.

Audience attendance, perhaps the most objective way of measuring success, also reflects a staggering improvement: ‘[It’s increased] ten or eleven-fold, according to our most recent analysis’, says Handle. ‘Certainly the growth reflects the “improvements” . . . I think that the increased appreciation of “classical music” on the part of the public is in part a result of the seeds we sewed beginning in 1998, just as it is a factor of our having taken advantage of every media outlet to get the word out into the community, that we are relevant players in the community of artistic ideas, nationally and internationally’. The OSN has also reached out to communities that had not had access to, or held an interest in, classical music in the past, rather than adopting an audience that was already established.

Considering the role he played in the development of the OSN, Handel’s departure has been a regrettable blow felt by all. Some question his farewell, unable to comprehend why he would leave after such success. However, his reasoning makes it clear he feels no regret over his decision: ‘It was time . . . The relationship between an orchestra and conductor has – I believe – a life cycle, and fourteen years was a long one by any standard. I simply could not spend the necessary amount of time in La Paz that this orchestra and public needs and deserves’.

However, Handel is leaving behind some valuable advice: he believes the achievements made during his term need to be protected and built upon, and this can be achieved through an international call for the next director in a fair and open process. But Handel also seems concerned that political or personal intervention might prevent this from happening; he alludes to the OSN’s ‘historically complex environment’, implying that the selection process has not always been fair in the past. But he isn’t concerned about likely comparisons that will undoubtedly be made with his replacement: ‘Comparison is inevitable, but it also has very little importance. I reiterate that my hope is that the general values and management of professional procedures remain, but that whoever becomes the next director titular will leave his or her specific imprint. I hope that the new music director will be able to lead the OSN to an even higher level of achievement’.

Handel proved by his time here that classical music is indeed appreciated in Bolivia, something that was doubted before his arrival. ‘Anecdotally, during at least the last five years of my tenure, whenever I would enter a taxi, the chofer usually knew who I was and knew something about the OSN’. If this is the case, it would seem that classical music does have a place in Bolivian culture. Yes, there is little investment, but money, while important, isn’t the the only requisite for success: ‘Unfortunately, the training, funding and access for musicians (for economic reasons) is often lacking. The public is there and is eager for the experience. There exists in parts of Latin America a disconnect between what the population wants and what its governing authorities are willing to prioritise . . . [but] the future should prove positive’.

David Handel has equipped the OSN with a recipe to attain greatness. Financial difficulties aside, the company has the foundation it needs to continue this success. Now is the time for the OSN to prove it can continue without him. In fact, his absence could provide an excellent opportunity for the OSN to indulge in experimentation, to transform from a good company under a great director into a great orchestra in itself.

Interview with Efecto Mandarina’s Verónica Pérez

Verónica, or Vero, Pérez is the singer of the electric- jazz group Efecto Mandarina (which also features Bladimir Morales on bass, Diego Ballón on piano and Eddy Chuquimia on drums). At 24 years old, she’s known for her engaging and charismatic performances, captivating audiences with her deep, emotionally laden voice. Already featured on two Efecto Mandarina albums, she’s planning to release a solo album in the near future.

BX: Who were your first influences/ inspirations?
V.P.: My first influences were pop, because I grew up in a time when pop stars were everywhere, so I’d have to say Christina Aguilera and Mariah Carey. But later on, my interest grew in other types of music such as rock – Latin American rock like Soda Stereo, Charly García and at the same time the Doors and King Crimson the Mars Volta, Jeff Buckley, Björk and Frank Zappa. I’ve always liked every kind of music, that’s why I believe I have the ability to sing various different styles. The artists who influenced me the most are Amy Winehouse, Stevie Wonder, Dinah Washington, [Brazilian singer] Marisa Monte and Earth, Wind & Fire.

BX: How did Efecto Mandarina form?
V.P.: Efecto Mandarina started in around 2008; they wanted to create jazz music combined with other ingredients, as they were getting tired of playing to the same standards as everyone else. So they thought that if they added an electronic sound, something interesting could emerge out of it. So they did. At the time, I was singing with a DJ producer called Marcelo Guerrero; we had our own material and played it in a few places. One time, Marcelo was approached by Efecto Mandarina to do a collaboration – that’s when I met them... . Time went by and I kept performing with the band, until we merged and have remained together ever since.

BX: Aside from Bolivia, has Efecto Mandarina performed anywhere else in or outside of Latin America?
V.P.: Not yet, but we have intentions of doing it, probably sometime next year – we’re still in the process of planning. . . . At Festijazz, we met some great international artists, with whom we shared a stage and have kept in touch with since. People have expressed a real interest in our culture and music.

BX: In your opinion, how big is the jazz scene in Bolivia?
V.P.: It’s actually very small. It is considered a kind of elite [group] of musicians who take themselves very seriously and choose not to promote their music – something which we really disagree with. We think jazz music, like any other music, could be commercial and could be heard by many. The problem, however, isn’t only with the jazz scene but the whole music scene in Bolivia. Musicians are too cautious; we have too much insecurity, artists here go by the simple idea of making music for money and competing with others for fame. We have to understand that music is sacred; it is an extremely sensitive and perfect way to express one’s emotional and physical thoughts.

BX: Can you tell us about Efecto Mandarina’s albums?
V.P.: We’ve recorded two live albums, as we believe our music has to be recorded live because of all the improvisation we do while we’re playing it. The songs that we play never sound the same; they do have a structure to follow, but the tune always ends differently. The arrangements are done live and are always the most beautiful moments we capture in our music.

BX: What plans does Efecto Mandarina have for the future?
V.P.: Recording a new album, with more of our own compositions – we’ve already started writing. We’re also going to do some covers of our favourite songs. We plan to hopefully do a tour and travel, but also shoot a video that will transcend [beyond our audience].

BX: What are your future plans as a solo artist?
V.P.: I’m working on my album, which isn’t as jazzy as you might expect, but I think it’ll be more personal and intimate. I hope you all like it and feel connected to the songs at some point. I want it to be an album that doesn’t necessarily use instruments as we widely know them . . . that will show how the world is made out of sound and music.

Look for Verónica Pérez’s solo album in the near future.