Can Changó help you?
Yes, deity of music and justice.
And Yemaya?
Of water and the sea and the genesis of life.
Do they protect you?
They strengthen me: I live as a musician and I live by the water.
What do you see out your window every morning?
The Havana boardwalk: the sea!
High floor?
Eighth floor in my neighborhood, Vedado.
What sounds at home?
Jazz and Cuban music. And my piano: I practice scales every day.
How did you start with the piano?
My mother sang boleros at home...
What boleros?
Three words, also Black Tears or I look at the depths of your being... My mother used to lull me to sleep by singing to me, as a child.
Was it a form of education?
I was a wayward child. Today, when I remember it, my mother cries when she sees me succeed.
She should be happy... and she cries?
He just can't forget the day he implored a teacher not to expel me from music classes.
Had he been expelled? Because?
The classes were very strict... and I would sneak out to play with my friends out there.
Were you readmitted to the class?
“You're wasting your time: your son is no good at music, he will never be a pianist,” the teacher said to my mother, who begged to give me a second chance.
Your mother did believe in you.
Always! Just like another teacher, the Russian Irina: “I see you like jazz,” she whispered to me, so as not to be heard. And I liked it, yes.
Why was she speaking softly to him?
Because if you played jazz in Cuba they told you “that music can't be played!”; Because it was Anglo-Saxon, it was banned until 1994.
What closure.
Irina proposed giving me two hours of class, like this: “One hour of classical and the other I will let you play jazz.” And just like that she beat me!
And until today.
No, no, because after putting in hours and making a lot of progress... I went astray again: I liked the party too much!
And how did it finally get back on track?
Another teacher, Rosalía, hit the right note for me: “You have talent: be smart and think about your family!” Understood.
What did you understand?
That if I was successful I could help my family. And I never derailed again. Rosalía understood how I am.
And what are you like, Fonseca?
Temperamental, romantic, rebellious, melancholic, reserved, sensitive.
And I gather that very familiar.
Very familiar, yes! I help my parents, who live in Havana, as much as possible. I would like to save, but with so much spending...
What would you do with your savings?
Living in Paris! I am fascinated by their jazz cellars, the legendary La Cabaña Cubana: Caribbean music has been played there since the 1920s. An atmosphere of musicians and bohemians.
But... in Paris there is no sea.
But... the Seine River serves me well, it carries a lot of water.
Would he take his parents to Paris?
It is my dream, and also to have eleven sons and eleven daughters.
So far from Cuba... their children would lose their Cuban roots.
That never happens to a Cuban! Neither inside nor outside the island.
How are those inside today?
Worse than ever, lacking basic supplies, food and medicine.
Perhaps this would be solved with a radical political change.
Before journalists who asked me this, I used to repeat “my music is my politics,” and I refused to talk about the issue.
And now?
Now I speak, because we are very bad and something will have to be done to solve it.
I know of Cuban artists who encourage a popular uprising.
I don't. I will not bear the responsibility for street disorders that can end in bloodshed.
So, what to do?
Look, many of the Cubans who harangue people collect money from abroad.
Already, that repeats the Castro Government.
I give people my music so that they vibrate with pleasure and happiness for two hours, and humbly enjoy together.
How would you define your musical style?
I don't label it. I am from Miles Davies and Harbie Handcock, from jazz and traditional Cuban music, from bossa nova and flamenco... and from any music with emotion!
I heard him live in Cuba: vibrant!
Thank you. Another person who saw me gave me the greatest compliment imaginable to me: “You are the Cuban Miles Davis.”
