Jesus Caunedo: the musical flights of a tropical crane

Latin Beat Magazine, August, 2003 by Luis Tamargo

Once upon a time in Miami, during my first meeting with Jesús Caunedo (alias La Gruya, or "The Crane "), I realized that the nickname applied many moons ago by a bongó-playing bandmate to the tall, gray-haired reedman was well justified, considering his partial resemblance to those large birds with very long legs and necks.

What matters, most of all, is that this extraordinary multi-instrumentalist/ bandleader/composer/arranger has played a vital role in multiple musical events of historical significance.

BORN in Havana in 1934, and regarded as one of the most sought-after Cuban studio musicians of the late 1950s, Caunedo was one of the founding members of the Club Cubano de Jazz and participated in numerous classic Havanese recordings, from Chico O'Farrill/Las D'Aida's unprecedented 1957 collaboration to Omara Portuondo/Julio Gutierrez's Magia Negra to Walfredo de los Reyes Jr.'s landmark Gema debut (Cuban Jazz, 1960).

After leaving his native island in 1960, the author of Guanguajira has made equally notable contributions to the musical environments of the Big Apple and his adopted island.

"Never expect a true musician to completely retire," declared another legendary reedman in exile, Tata Palau, in a recent LATIN BEAT interview. Palau's comment can be applicable, of course, to the subject of the following interrogation.

Currently residing in Carolina, Puerto Rico, Caunedo has been featured in various important recordings conducted in recent times, including but not limited to the Cuban Masters' Grammy-nominated gathering (Los Originales, Pimienta, 2001) and Puerto Rican pianist José Lugo's innovative debut (Piano Con Mata, Bronco, 2003).

LUIS TAMARGO: Were there any other musicians in your family before you came along?

JESUS CAUNEDO: Not really. Since my father was a baker, however, my musical vocation probably had something to do with the panes de flauta that he baked (LAUGHTER). My mother had a good ear for music and she sang beautifully. You could say that I'm a musical product of my native country's pre-Castro public education system: I was raised and learned music at Ceiba del Agua's Instituto Cívico Militar, a tuition-free, vocational boarding school for orphans (My father died when I was 6 years old) in which I was enrolled from that age until I was almost 17. That is where I studied music with Manuel García Gatell, a native of Cienfuegos who went beyond the call of duty and functioned as a second father to me. By the age of 15, I was playing with a band that we organized at the institute. Juvenal Blanco, a professor who was also raised at that school, led it.

LT: Do you have a favorite instrument?

JC: My first instrument was the clarinet, but I enjoy playing all instruments at my disposal. Instruments are like women; each instrument has its own peculiarity, a distinctive swing. Each instrument has a different sonority, a different expressive feeling. So I can't say that I have a particularly favorite instrument.

LT: Is it true that you began your professional career in 1950 as a saxophonist, despite the complaints expressed by Professor García Gatell?

JC: Yes. He wanted me to become a clarinetist, a profession that could have led to hunger and starvation (LAUGHTER). I initiated my career playing sax with the bands led by Otoniel Acosta and Pantaleón "El Cojo" Pérez Prado at dives such as El Palete and La Sierra. Despite the lack of financial rewards, I must confess that I had a wonderful time as a single young man playing in places packed with horny women (LAUGHTER).

LT: When did you acquire the nickname of La Gruya (The Crane)?

JC: Later on, when I was working with Rey Díaz Clavet's band at the C.O.C.O. radio station. The nickname had to do with the story behind a political advertisement utilized during (Fulgencio) Batista's senate race. It alleged that after a crane was accidentally run over in his country estate, he made arrangements for the injured bird to get prosthesis, a wooden leg (LAUGHTER). Right around that time, I fractured my leg while playing soccer and it had to be put in plaster. Therefore, whenever I had to stand up and walk to the microphone at that radio station to playa solo, I had to use a crutch. That's when the bongosero named Lázaro "Manteca" Plá carne up with the nickname, in reference to the previously mentioned political crane ... By the way, I recorded for the first time with Díaz Clavet's orchestra. This recording included the tune titled Al Compás del Chachachá, featuring María Luisa "Pucha" Choréns (Olga Choréns' sister) on vocals.

LT: By 1954, you became a vital component of Rafael Ortega's 4-piece saxophone section ...

JC: It was a very lucrative gig. Ortega was a very good pianist with a very bad temper (LAUGHTER). While playing with his band at the Sans Souci, I had the honor of accompanying numerous jazz icons, from Cab Calloway to Ella Fitzgerald to Sarah Vaughn. Naturally, I fell in love with U.S. jazz and began to frequent such venues as Havana 1900 and Las Vegas, where I jammed with other native musicians who had contracted the same musical virus. It was an extremely beautiful era in which I began to learn about the existence of other musical factors. That is when I played tenor and baritone with the trombonist Jorge Rojas, whose piano-less quartet tried to emulate Gerry Mulligan's instrumental format.