< Home
/ Actualidad

BUSCAR

On April 2nd 2014, Nubenegra celebrated 20 years and one day of life.

 

  In fact, it’s 7.337 days of intense work dedicated on making possible that passionate love and desire for music can overcome the difficulties and everyday limitations. Fighting to bring along the quality of all the musicians and creative artists who adopted the idea of Nubenegra and procuring that, neither market rules nor any regulations of public affairs might strangle them.

It is a business similar to slackline walking, that of trading with emotions. How to put inside a package the vibrating air, a roguish wink, a candid smile or the tremble of a note that breaks free? Images and sounds transformed into bytes.

There have been great and many moments we’ve lived. Like when two voices united all their strength to teach the world how the bubi in Equatorial Guinea sing, or how does the sand of an inmense desert sound when caressed by the skilled hand of a Saharaui. Nostalgia doing what it pleases; some kids in Triana jumping mad until delirium; the drums stirring the dust. The silence of an audience, holding its breath during an impossible melisma. The complicity, the truth, the lie, the illusion, the wisdom.

I confess we have been lucky, very lucky. Musicians from quite different backgrounds. Musicians from the people, some of them, emigrants with very few material resources or even without any goods, but filled with artistic resources who have dazzled the very lights of the of television and movie sets.

Applauded on the stages, respected by the mass media, they have shown their art in auditoriums, festivals, theatres and culture houses around the world. They harvested standing ovations and praises from the heart of the audience they have lived that magical moment in which the stage fades and we all install ourselves in a blinding cloud: musicians, singers, spectators, managers, technicians, promoters, critics…

All of that because, one day in March 1994, five wonderful old people from a Caribean island acepted in delight to start the engine of a train. The train of the Vieja Trova Santiaguera. The train of Nubenegra. Without that train, about a hundred productions, about a thousand recorded songs, and an infinity of concerts wouldn’t have been possible. To discover, to know, to taste and, in the end, to love the music from barely known places. And with that music, their performers and creators.

I don’t want to thank anybody for this years of work and collaboration. I want to share and celebrate the happiness of those 20 years and one day with all their protagonists, either at this or the other side of the stage. Who knows if we’ll be only celebrating a life imprisonment? The never ending music show.

Manuel Domínguez