Classical Meets Traditional

“Finding Myself in a New Land” It all started with my need to be and feel part of a country where I wasn’t born. I moved to Boston in 2000

“Finding Myself in a New Land”

It all started with my need to be and feel part of a country where I wasn’t born. I moved to Boston in 2000 at age 22 to give birth to a beautiful baby girl on March 17th—Saint Patrick’s Day—at Cambridge Hospital. That day remains the best of my life. We named her Raquel, after my middle sister. Raquel’s father wanted to honor her grandmother Ruth by using her initials: R.L.F. He didn’t want to use her grandma’s name, and the only two names I could think of that started with “R” were Rebecca and Raquel. We chose Raquel because of my sister and because it rhymes better with his last name, Fisk.

The hospital experience was lovely, and I was grateful to have the support of MassHealth. A few months after Raquel was born, we married at Boston City Hall. My mother flew from Mexico to attend the ceremony, and only the three of us were there. I only remember a few details; marriage was never on my bucket list.

Adjusting to Life in Boston

Life in Boston was a shock to me, starting with the prices. Each lemon cost the equivalent of three kilos of lemons in Mexico, and renting a small third-floor apartment in Brighton, Massachusetts, was comparable to renting a mansion in my hometown, Xalapa. It took me years to stop converting dollars into pesos and even longer—plus therapy sessions—to accept that labor work in Boston offered a better income than teaching music.

Despite the challenges, I was determined to continue my studies in Boston, partly to understand the culture and mainly to avoid depression. The best class I took was an English class with an excellent teacher from Greece, Ms. Kambouris, who had perfect grammar and a fabulous sense of humor. Thanks to her, I finished my Master’s degree in Music Performance at age 27 in 2009. My eight-year-old daughter was also studying piano at the time.

Finding a place where I could be myself was difficult. Thankfully, NEC Prep hired me right after I completed my degree. I had around ten guitar students every Saturday while Raquel was in her music classes. It was a fun and fulfilling experience. The students were talented, and their parents were very kind to me. However, money was still tight, so I created a small guitar concert series to sell tickets for extra income. To my surprise, it not only brought in additional income but was also a lot of fun. I even invited students to join me in performing.

Creating a Sense of Home

Boston has a large Mexican community, but most of the Mexicans here are from the North of Mexico, not the South. I come from Xalapa, located in the state of Veracruz in southern Mexico. As we know, Mexico is a big country, and the South’s food, traditions, and music differ entirely from those of the North. Did I experience Veracruz in Boston? Never. I had to create it.

In 2015, I invited a female friend who plays Son Jarocho to perform in Boston. I asked her to teach me how to play the Jarana, but while she was enthusiastic about traveling to Boston, she wasn’t as eager to teach me. It wasn’t until 2017 that I found a “Requinto” Guitarra de Son on Craigslist in Boston. Another group called “La Tuza” used to play Son Jarocho and Son Huasteco in Boston, but although I never had the chance to hear them perform, I learned they used to play in pubs around the city before they stopped for personal reasons.

Building a Cultural Bridge

2018 was a massive year for me. It was my first year secretly presenting the Latin American Festival at the New England Conservatory in February. Winter, as you can imagine, is freezing in Boston, so the Festival’s vision was to warm people’s hearts during the cold season by hosting a guitar competition, master classes, and evening concerts. It had a straightforward layout for kids and families to access a Latin American Classical music experience—all made possible thanks to the Augustine Foundation.

A few weeks before the festival, we received a phone call from a piano and guitar duo in Buffalo, New York, who had presented Leo Brouwer in the United States. They asked if I was interested in having him at our Festival, and I immediately said yes, even though we hadn’t budgeted for such a famous guest. I contacted my friend Shirley Spinetta, who owns a Mexican restaurant, and asked if she would donate to the cause.

The Challenge of Asking for Help

I’ve never been one to ask friends for money. I always work and find a way to pay my bills. However, running a festival is different from managing my household budget. My biggest challenge has been swallowing my pride and learning how to share our vision to encourage others to see and support the importance of arts and culture.

I thought my job was done, but it was just getting started.

On February 15th, 2018, the same day we began the Latin American Music Festival hosting Maestro Leo Brouwer in Boston, we submitted a grant application to The Boston Foundation for a “Son Jarocho project.” I picked up Brouwer from the airport, and we immediately felt a spiritual connection. The professional chemistry between Leo, his manager Isabelle, and me was indescribable. Leo even proposed that I perform the Concerto Elegiaco on stage with him and the Orchestra at Boston Guitar Fest in June 2018.

When Classical Meets Traditional

A month before Boston Guitar Fest, we received the news that The Boston Foundation had approved our Son Jarocho grant. I had ONE MONTH to memorize the Concerto Elegiaco and organize rehearsals to present Son Jarocho in Boston after June. The stress was immense, but it was during this time that “Classical Meets Traditional” was born. When there is so much tension, only a divine, mystical force can help us through it.

I feel the energy of both audiences: the popular music audience often doesn’t understand Latin American classical music and finds it boring, while the classical music audience thinks popular Latin American music is only suitable for dancing or background music. It breaks my heart to see both audiences lacking education, but it is not their fault. It is us musicians who have the responsibility to educate our audience.