Review: Omara Portuondo

October 7, 2010
Despite a summer chock full of events at The Paramount Theatre the past few months, they were all cinematic in nature. No complaints, here, mind you. I'm always a film fan, first and foremost. However, I had yet to experience a live performance at the venue. No concerts, no acting, no shows. But all of that was about to change that night. Omara Portuondo, legend of Cuban music, was taking the stage at The Paramount.


In spite of my preview write-up, I must confess I was unsure of what the show was to entail. My beloved and I were ever so excited for this exotic experience. Sure, we may live in the professed "live music capital of the world," but how often does that encompass a 79 year-old Latin diva and such Cuban flavor? My gut told me something truly special was in the offering.

There was a genuine air of excitement at the theatre. Patrons were not merely milling around before the show, they were buzzing. As the performance time arrived, director Ken Stein took the stage and welcomed us to the 2010/11 season. Thanking individual and corporate sponsors, he reminded us that none of it would be possible without the patron's generosity.

And with the introduction stated, the show began. For the next two hours I was enraptured by what unfolded before me, a sensational event the likes I had never seen.

All of the musicians were of the highest caliber, and would have been amazing to behold indivdually. Each was fantastic in his own right, but I was most impressed with Harold Lopez Nussa, the pianist. With powerful fingers, he flashed over the keys like a flash of lightning and thundered chords during solos that would leave the crowd breathless. The five musicians had such a special harmony with the songs, and the energy levels they brought kept the entire show ratcheted up to an 11. Every one on stage had a chance to shine, and they all were bathed in the audiences' adoration and applause. Felipe Cabrera on the bass and percussionists Andrés Coayo and Rodney Yllarza Barreto brought the house down during solos. And the passion of guitarist Swami Jr. was simultaneously cool yet caliente, evoking memories of a young Carlos Santana.

However, the true revelation that night was Omara herself. She may not have played an instrument on stage, but with her ardor, her voice and her charm, she had us all listening intently. I was astonished and hypnotized by her energy. Portuondo's stamina was a marvel to behold. Heck, I get fatigued from climbing simple flights of stairs, yet here was this living legend performing a vibrant show for nearly two hours (the first 90 minutes of it without a break), a mere few weeks shy of her eightieth birthday. ¡Dios Mio!


Omara was reminiscent of Yoda up there, only far more impressive than any Star Wars special effect. This was real; a true phenomenon of flesh and blood. There was something magical and beautiful about the lyrical nature of her soulful production. It was a performance of the spirit, and it was genuine magic. That night, neither her body or voice betrayed her frail corporeal frame. Her vocals were sincere and powerful, captivating the entire audience (even if some of us couldn't understand most of the Spanish lyrics). As the show continued, it was like watching someone in a fountain of youth. One could almost see the years melting away, and I imagine that night's performance was identical to those in a smoky Havana club over half a century ago.

Whether singing from her own albums, leading the audience into an impromptu accompaniment of "Deep in the Heart of Texas," or getting everyone to stand and sing along with her finale of "Guantanamera," Omara gave everyone something to treasure and remember. As we left the theatre that night, we felt so alive and so enriched. It was a great evening and an amazing display.

To witness something of this caliber, I was entranced. I was moved. I was grateful.



Feliz cumpleanos, Omara... y gracias.

Coming Soon: Chris Isaak

Let's be honest. What's the first thing that pops into your head when you think of Chris Isaak? It's this, right?


That's ok. Me, too. Nothing wrong with that. Not one bit. After all, the video is hawwwt.

Okay, so back on task. I've been a "passive fan" of Chris Isaak. While I really like his music, I don't possess any of his albums. Granted, I don't own a lot of albums to begin with, so that's not a knock on Chris at all.

Throughout my life, I have known several Chris Isaak fans. Hmmm, that's not quite accurate. Let me try that again. I have known several Chris Isaak maniacs fanatics. Those ladies were obsessed with the guy, and each proclaimed him the sexiest man that ever lived. Although I don't advocate any type of behavior that leads to a scary level of infatuation and mania (take note, all you tween Justin Bieber fans out there), I can see where the allure lies. Isaak is one suave dude. He reminds me of a cross between Elvis and David Duchovny, sans the X-Files stigma or the peanut butter & banana sandwiches.

From humble blue-collar beginnings, Chris literally is a self-made musician. If Loretta Lynn was the Coal Miner's Daughter, Isaak is the Fork Lift Operator's Son. Teaching himself how to play on his brother's guitar, influenced by country music (and by Elvis himself), he began writing songs in his teens.

Dabbling in amateur boxing during his youth, Isaak also was an exchange student staying in Japan. There he decided on music as a his career. After years of paying his dues in San Francisco dives, he finally caught his break in the mid-1980s. His debut album Silvertone garnered attention and particularly caught the ear of film director David Lynch. The creatively eccentric filmmaker put two of Isaak's songs in the 1986 film Blue Velvet. A few years alter, Lynch used a little known song from another of Chris's albums (Heart-Shaped World) for the film Wild at Heart. That song? "Wicked Game." Hot as a match, the song lit the fuse that rocketed Isaak into stratospheric new levels of success.

And like that, he began appearing in front of more audiences, both in film and TV. After a few blink-and-you-miss-him turns in Married To The Mob and The Silence of the Lambs (I guess Jonathan Demme is a big fan, too), he featured more prominently on the big screen in Little Buddha and Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me. Seems like directors simply love Isaak, and even the reclusive cinematic auteur Stanley Kubrick used the song "Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing" in his final film, 1999's Eyes Wide Shut. Heck, the entire trailer was set to the song.


Taking his talents into living rooms across America, Chris was finally exhibited in a show of his own. The Showtime network gave him "The Chris Isaak Show" in 2001, where he and his band played fictionalized versions of themselves. Think of it as a more musically based version of "Curb Your Enthusiasm," without the acerbic humor and Larry David's unassuming yet rude behavior. Lasting three seasons, it was generally liked but not loved by cable audiences.

Although still crossing over into different media, Isaak is now focusing again on his music predominantly. This week's performance at The Paramount promises to maintain his long-time rockabilly charm and that (ahem) smooth sex appeal. I, for one, would not be surprised in the least to see some of the long-time maniacs fans there that I'm familiar with.

Songs will also be performed from last year's album, Mr. Lucky. As described on his website, this album is "like some rocking Sinatra album for the 21st Century, a song cycle about the good luck we earn and the bad luck we just can’t seem to shake." Sounds like it's worth a roll of the dice to me.

Don't miss the show. That would be a bad bad thing.

The show is Wednesday, Oct. 13th. 8 pm.

Coming Soon: John Lithgow

I've always known John Lithgow was a man who has worn many hats, but I had no idea how diverse his work was until I started doing a little research.

Born of parents with theater backgrounds, one could say the stage has been in his blood from the very beginning. While attending Harvard, he decided upon a career in acting for himself. Fun little factoid: as a freshman, Lithgow lived across the hall from roommates Al Gore and Tommy Lee Jones. Wow. How interesting do you think it was to be the Resident Assistant (R.A.) in that hall? And here I thought The Social Network was an interesting look at Harvard life. Pssh. Give me these three over Zuckerberg any day. Someone make a movie about Lithgow, Jones and Gore in college. Stat!

Lithgow made his Broadway debut on stage in David Storey's The Changing Room, for which he won a Tony award (how's that for a career start?). In the decades since, he has crossed over into television, film and radio with equal acclaim. in addition, John has created numerous works for children: writing poetry and short stories, while recording albums too.

Most audiences, however, are likely familiar with him due to his film and TV work. Early in his career, he was in Brian De Palma's Obsession, a kinda-remake of Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo. He started to gain notice in films after appearing in Bob Fosse's All That Jazz. Then he really took off, gaining Best Supporting Actor nods in back-to-back years for The World According to Garp and Terms of Endearment (1982 and '83, respectively). From that point, Lithgow really seemed to be everywhere.

While contemplating his filmography, one thing occurred to me. I had never noticed before, but I really enjoy John Lithgow in everything I've ever seen him in. Even if the movie or TV show itself is less than par. He is one of the few actors that I delight in watching, whether I love his character or hate him. Take a gander a the collage I assembled below and tell me John isn't one of the most endearing actors you can think of. He's just so damn good in any role that he embodies.

From Harry and the Hendersons, to The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai, to 2010, to Twilight Zone: The Movie, Lithgow impresses each film with his own mannerisms and that signature voice. I'll even forgive his scenery-chomping turns in the likes of Cliffhanger, Ricochet, Raising Cain and... wait for it... Santa Claus: The Movie. Yeah, I went there.

And let's not neglect his work on television. He charmed us all for several seasons of "3rd Rock from The Sun," and he won an Emmy this year for his role in last season's "Dexter" as a sociopath (who also really sticks it to our favorite serial killer with the last shot of the final episode).


By the way, did you know he played Yoda? Yes, the jedi master from Star Wars. Not in the movies, mind you, but in the radio drama portrayals. No lie.

And now the prolific actor will be gracing the Paramount's stage as well with his one-man show, Stories by Heart. In it, John "traces his roots as an actor and as a storyteller," utilizing two stories from his youth.

I don't know about you, but it sounds fascinating, and with the ever-appealing Lithgow as its center, well... Count me in. There's still time to join me.
The show is Tuesday, October 12th at 8 pm.

Coming Soon: Omara Portuondo

It's fall, and time is approaching for the kick off. No, not for football (although that is a staple of the autumn also). I'm referring to the first performance of the 2010/2011 season at The Paramount. The season begins with a special performance by a living legend, Omara Portuondo. On the 29th of this month, she turns 80. That's right, eight decades and has been in show business for over 60 years. Wow.

Portuondo is a legend and ambassador of música Cubana. Listing all of her life accomplishments and discography would easily take me until Christmas (remember, 80 years), so I'll keep it brief. She began in 1947 by singing with her sisters. After singing with different groups, she embarked on a solo career in the 1960s, where she garnered international acclaim. Her music also attracted attention for sometimes skewing political, referring to Chilean leader Salvador Allende and even Ché Guevara in some of her work. Through it all, she has remained closely tied to her Cuban roots. Heck, to this day, she's still a fixture at The Tropicana Club in Havana, fifty years after she preformed there the first time.

An assembly of her discography can be found on her website and other sites. Give her a listen.

Modern audiences are more apt to know her from her involvement in "The Buena Vista Social Club" album from 1997. American guitarist Ry Cooder (he of the slide guitar) worked with Juan de Marcos González to assemble a band of Cuban musicians, honoring the heritage and passion of pre-revolutionary Cuba. Widely acclaimed at its release, the grupo musicales was also featured in the Oscar-nominated documentary The Buena Vista Social Club. Directed by Wim Wenders (Paris, Texas, Wings of Desire), it documents the creation of the album and the lives of the elder musicians involved.

Doing some digging, I found that you can even watch the film in its entirety, right here.

Omara is a true gem. Her concert promises to be a culmination of a life long lived, and also an homage to a Cuba before our country decided to blacklist their very culture.

Glancing at the seating chart, there are still some limited seating available. Guys, this is one of those once-in-blue moon kind of event. Come down and enjoy this engagement. You can say you've seen a living legend, and prove to your friends and colleagues that you know first-hand that Cuban culture consists of more than Fidel Castro or Cohibas.

What a way to kick things off this season.
The show is Thursday, Oct. 7 at 8 pm.