The Songs of Old Havana, in the Buena Vista Social Club

Some people in the audience may have visited Cuba, but few if any went there before the revolution, when members of Havana’s actual Buena Vista Social Club would have heard the compelling rhythms and passionate lyrics of more than a dozen songs that are recreated in the new Off-Broadway musical Buena Vista Social Club.

The show’s framing device is a Havana studio session in 1996, helmed by a producer who wants the Club’s veteran musicians and singers to come back together and record new tracks of their old songs. That really happened; the album became a worldwide hit and led to an award-winning, inspirational documentary that’s well worth watching today, especially after seeing this show.

In the musical, several of the 1996 principal roles are based on real people. But they are mirrored, here, by their younger selves in 1956, to establish backstories and point up or introduce tensions and ironies. That does blur, conflate or condense some facts. But the drama that Marco Ramirez has put into the book—brought to the stage by Director Saheem Ali and Creative Consultant David Yazbek—lifts this dynamic show up and out of the jukebox.

Natalie Venitia Belcon as Omara, and Julio Monge as Compay

Omara (Natalie Venitia Belcon), a diva who quit singing pop tunes for tourists, stayed a recording artist but with a strictly local fame. Ibrahim (Mel Semé), her favorite duet partner, was too dark-skinned to be a star (“It’s not a face I can put on an album cover,” says young Omara’s record producer); we find Ibrahim now—as then—singing for tips along the harbor. And Compay (Julio Monge), the guitarist who brought them together at the Social Club, can only get work now playing for tourists in hotel lobbies.

The band, conducted at the show I saw by Josh Ceballos, is not a pit orchestra: they incarnate the Buena Vista Social Club’s musicians on stage, playing tight arrangements that nonetheless project a frisson of spontaneity. I could not have been the only audience member whose toes were tapping in synch with their beat.

Anyone who speaks Spanish will glean more from the lyrics than I. But palpable emotions pour out of duets like Silencio. Even the pop standard El Cumbanchero, done as a tourist-teasing sister act by the young Omara and Haydee (Danaya Esperanza), is irresistible. Every number in this show’s songbook has its roots in one or more of Cuba’s traditional musical genres.

The younger selves: (l-r) Compay (Jared Machado), Omara (Kenya Browne ) and Ibrahim (Olly Sholotan)

Shoutout to Renesito Avich, the band’s lead guitarist for compelling riffs. Also to choreographers Paricia Delgado and Justin Peck, and their associate Carlos Gonzales, not only for lovely dance routines in the Club but for the graceful way the dancers whisk props and furniture on and off the stage. Dede Ayite’s costumes help make clear who’s who and when. The sets by Arnulfo Maldonado are well illuminated by Tyler Micoleau’s lights, especially when the club’s roof morphs into the harbor and the sea beyond.

At one point Haydee, fearing the imminent revolution, rebukes her sister Omara: “The world is on fire, and you’re singing pretty songs!” To which Omara replies: “The world needs pretty songs.” Spend two hours in this Buena Vista Social Club, and you’ll say that too.

Top photo: (l-r) A trio of guitarists—Renesito Avich, Jared Machado, and Associate Music Director David Oquendo—fronts the house band playing for dancers at the Buena Vista Social Club.

Production photos by Ahron R. Foster

Buena Vista Social Club runs till Jan. 21, 2024, at the Atlantic Theater Company’s Linda Gross Theater, 336 West 20th Street.

About Hal Glatzer (12 Articles)
Hal Glatzer is a performer, journalist, novelist and playwright. He has been singing all his life. Nowadays, he plays guitar and sings from "the Great American Songbook"the hits of Tin Pan Alley and Broadway. Hal started in journalism in the 1970s as a daily newspaper reporter, and moved into TV news. But he focused on the rise of the computer industry, and stayed on that beat until the mid-'90s when, ironically, the internet killed the market for high-tech journalists. So he turned to writing mystery fiction, starting with a tale of a hacker who gets in trouble with organized crime. He next wrote a series featuring a working musician in the years leading up to World War II, whose gigs land her in danger. During the pandemic, he penned some new adventures of Sherlock Holmes. His stage plays are mysteries too: one with Holmes and one with Charlie Chan. More often, though, he writes (and produces) audio-plays, performed in old-time-radio style. A grateful product of the New York City public schools, including Bronx Science, he moved away from the city for many years, but returned in 2022 to live on his native island, Manhattan.