Press Release

TP: Tell me about your father. I understand that he was an opera singer and a musician. I read somewhere that he won your first set of timbales in a poker game.

OV: That's true.

TP: He was also recruited by the Cuban government to be in charge of international flights from Havana to New York and Havana to Chicago for Cubana de Avacion (Cuban Airlines). OK, let me get this straight. Your father taught you how to play the bongos … backwards?

OV: Sort of, my father was raised in the country so he was coming from the Changui side, which is a pre-Son style. It was backwards compared to the way the bongos are played today.

TP: He sounds like quite a guy.

OV: My father was my idol. Even today when I have a problem I reach for the phone to call him. Then I realize that he is gone.

ew York and Havana to Chicago for Cubana de Avacion (Cuban Airlines). OK, let me get this straight. Your father taught you how to play the bongos … backwards?

OV: Sort of, my father was raised in the country so he was coming from the Changui side, which is a pre-Son style. It was backwards compared to the way the bongos are played today.

TP: He sounds like quite a guy.

OV: My father was my idol. Even today when I have a problem I reach for the phone to call him. Then I realize that he is gone.

TP: Your family moved from Camaguey, Cuba to the Big Apple when you were twelve years old. By all accounts you weren't too thrilled with the idea of living in New York until you saw Tito Puente play the timbales. Where and when did you see Tito play?

OV: Actually, I was introduced to Tito through my father. At the time Tito was interested in purchasing a ticket agency and my father helped him get a permit.

The first time I saw Tito perform was on television. Then I saw him at the Manhattan Center backing up Beny More. I took a lot of pictures that night. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of lending them to someone and they were never returned. Anyway, I remember that Arsenio Rodriguez was there too.

TP: I understand that you practiced relentlessly on a makeshift set of timbales. Also, that you never took a formal music lesson.

OV: I used to put the bongos on a chair and make believe they were timbales and play the conga with my left hand. I created a cymbal by attaching the top of a tin cracker box to a wire (coat) hanger. It made a nice crashing sound!

TP: Your first "unofficial" gig was with the Cuban Rhythm Boys.

OV: Yes, the group had two trumpets and a sax, which is the same configuration I have today.

TP: I understand that you and your friends, all of whom were under age, used to offer to clean up nightclubs in order to get in and see the show.

OV: Yes, I actually did that at a famous nightclub called the Ateneo Cubano, which used to be on 109th Street and Broadway.

TP: You also performed your first professional gig with the Orquesta Oriental Cubana at the Ateneo.

OV: I played with Oriental Cubana at New York's Ateneo Cubano and Club Cubano del Bronx (an Afro-Cuban social club in where Arsenio Rodríguez and Belisario López played frequently).

TP: How do you explain the fact that the Changui never caught on with the public?

OV: Most people didnt find it that interesting. Remember, there was a time in Cuba when Charangas and Sextetos were considered to be low class. The same thing happened with the Tango in Argentina. Before it was accepted by the upper class it was called street music.

TP: There are a number of things about Orquesta Oriental Cubana that I find very intriguing. First, Pete El Conde Rodriguez, who is best known as a sonero (vocalist), was the original conguero (percussionist).

OV: Yes, in the beginning.

TP: And then there was Hector Zeno, a highly underrated Puerto Rican musician whose style of playing the timbales had a tremendous impact on you.

OV: Hector was one of the first guys that played the Charanga with the Cuban timbales, the bass drum and a little bell.

TP: Is Hector still alive?

OV: Hector passed away last year. He was also one of the founders of the Tipica Novel.

TP: After Orquesta Oriental Cubana you joined Belisario Lopez y Su Charanga.

OV: Yes, when Belisario came from Cuba he performed at the Ateneo. He liked the way I played and he asked me to join the band. He took me under his wing and offered to teach me a few things.

TP: How old were you then?

OV: I was sixteen.

TP: After that you joined flutist Jose Fajardo s band and by extension, worked with the legendary bassist, Israel Cachao Lopez.

OV: My father was the person who picked Cachao up at the airport and brought him to Fajardo's rehearsal at a club called La Barranca. Playing with Fajardo and Cachao was a dream come true. Cachao stayed with Fajardo for a while, then he joined Tito Rodriguez' band and eventually went his own way and the rest is history.

TP: Another musician who had a big influence on you was the late, great Ray Barretto.

OV: That was a really interesting time for me because Ray gave me the green light to do a lot of different things. When I joined Ray's band the Charanga craze was on the way out. There was a significant amount of development when Ray switched from the Charanga format to the Conjunto format. That was around the time that Acid, Mirame de Frente and Arrepientete came out. I have said this before and I will say it again, Ray's (salsa) band has yet to receive the credit it deserves.

TP: Just prior to his death he became an NEA Jazz Master. I don't think there is an equivalent to that in the world of Latin music.

OV: Ray was ahead of his time. He was a jazz guy and studio musician. I used to sub for him when he couldn t make it to a session.

TP: I understand that Ray recommended you for gigs with the great Lionel Hampton, Thad Jones and Mel Lewis. Did you make any recordings with them?

OV: I made a video with Lionel Hampton but I have never seen it. In those days it would have been released on VHS (video cassette) or BETA.

TP: A friend of mine who is a collector requested that I ask you about a recording you made called Raw. For some reason he is under the impression that it was a bootleg recording, is that true?

OV: No, it's not a bootleg recording. It was legit. I made that recording when I was with Santana's band. At the time Santana was going on vacation and he said something like, "While I am away you guys can do whatever you want." So we got together and made a recording and a video. Sony Records picked up the recording but for reasons I would rather not discuss the record was taken off the market. It's a long story …

TP: Enough said. After 8-1/2 years with Ray Barretto's band you joined Típica 73. To what do you attribute Tipica 73s wide appeal and popularity?

OV: Típica 73 was a very simple, very organic group. We played sones and other Cuban tunes but at the same time, Típica 73s singer/trumpeter, René López, was doing English-language ballads. In addition to such an unusual level of versatility, we were very well connected throughout the Latin music scene because Johnny Rodríguez Jr. was very good at getting work. Not only did we work at nightclubs, but we also played at theatres, graduations, etc. We were booked by all kinds of people.

TP: Tipica '73 made history with the album Tipica '73 Intercambio Cultural En Cuba. In fact, it was the first US based salsa band to do so. After Tipica'73 you formed Los Kimbos (Little Witch Doctors) with singer Adalberto Santiago. The group recorded a total of four albums for Cotique Fania before it disbanded in the late 70's. Then suddenly, you packed up your belongings and moved to the West Coast. What prompted such a radical move?

OV: In 1975 Santana called me and offered me a gig. At the time his band had just changed management and things were a bit shaky. Also, I was under contract with Fania to do three more albums with Los Kimbos. I told Carlos that I was under contract and that I wasn't sure if I was mentally ready to go into Latin Rock. To be honest, I didn't think that he was ever going to call me again, but in 1980 he called again and invited me to participate in the making of the album Zebop and to go on tour with his band. At the end of the tour he invited me to become a member of his band and I expressed some concerns about the fact that my family lived on the East Coast and I wouldn't be able to see them. To make a long story short, he moved me and my cars and my family to California, all expenses paid.

  TP: How difficult was it for you to make the transition from Salsa to Latin Rock?

OV: It wasn't easy. It's like going from Spanish to Japanese. I had to find a way to fit in with the band without disturbing my concept. As a matter of fact – and I have never told this to anyone - after a few years with Carlos I was actually thinking of leavingrafca the band, and then a strange thing happened. I received a cassette tape from Jose Luis Quintana AKA Changuito who must have had some kind of spiritual powers. He told me that it was not a good time to leave the band and not to worry, that my music (sound) would always come through. I stayed with Santana for another four years.

Around the same time I also received a letter from Marty Cohen (of LP Percussion). He saw the band perform in New York and he congratulated me on my ability to approach Santana's music without compromising my style. That meant a lot to me.

TP: So you succeeded on two fronts: You conquered the world of Latin Rock without compromising your style and you proved that there is "Life After Santana!"

OV: I heard a lot of people say that when I was with Santana and it stayed with me. Actually, there was life after Santana! I recorded with Linda Rondstadt, Cachao; I did a lot of albums that received Grammy nominations and Ritmo y Candela – Rhythm at the Crossroads (Volumes I and II) with Carlos "Patato" Valdes and Changuito, which actually won a Grammy.

TP: Man, that is one great recording. I have had that recording for years and I still listen to it on a regular basis.

OV: Do you know how that recording was made? We went into the studio with no preconceived ideas of what we were going to do. We laid down the percussion tracks and later, flutist, John Calloway added the arrangements.

TP: You have a long-standing relationship with John Santos and the Machete Ensemble. Tell me about working with John and the importance of the Machete Ensemble and his Latin jazz group.

OV: I call the new group "Machetico" because it's a small version of the Machete Ensemble. John is a great guy. He's like family. I started recording with the Machete Ensemble when I was in Santana's band. Over the years John and I have made quite a few recordings and done a considerable amount of touring. When John scaled down the Machete Ensemble we started performing at colleges, doing clinics and recorded Papa Mambo.

TP: Papa Mambo is one of John's finest albums.

OV: I think so. I enjoyed working with John and I am sure that we will work together again in the future.

TP: Before we talk about your new recording, what have you been doing since you left Johns group?

OV: I am writing an autobiography with the help of (pianist, educator) Rebecca Mauleon.

TP: I wish more musicians would take the time to document their lives and careers.

OV: It's going to take some time but the main thing is we are doing it. I don't know if you know who Miguel Anga Diaz was, but he was a genius. He died too young and never got a chance to tell his story.

TP: Speaking of musicians who didn t get the opportunity to tell their story, it's unfortunate that that Ray Barretto did not live to tell his story.

OV: If a book is ever written about Ray I would like to be part of it. He was like my uncle and a big brother all rolled into one. In fact, I told his wife (Annette) that Ray and I were like Batman and Robin. When I was a teenager he used to take me to see Thad Jones and Mel Lewis. We were friends for so many years that he was like family. Ray was the person who told me that I should listen to all kinds of music. That always stayed with me.

TP: Tell me about "It's About Time!" Let's start with the concept.

OV: The concept is very simple. It's all of those things that we just talked about, things that stayed in my mind, pieces of melodies, remembering all of the bands I played with and some of the tunes that I heard when I was a kid.

TP: Tell me about the material you chose for the recording.

OV: I think it sounds very fresh. The roots are there but the material doesn't sound dated.

TP: You do a great job of paying homage to Ray Barretto on Remembering Ray. You do a great job of capturing the sound of Ray's old band.

OV: I had Joey de Leon on congas. He happens to be the son of the conga player for Bobby Rodriguez y La Compañia and he heard Ray as a kid. He even tuned his congas like Ray.

The tune for Cachao (Las Boinas de Cachao) is an obscure tune that wasn't even registered. Carlitos del Puerto transcribed Cachao's solo and added his own arrangement. Bringing that tune back to life was like receiving Cachao's blessing.

TP: Will there be a tour?

OV: Everybody in the band is a star in his own right so it's going to be difficult but if there is a possibility, yes of course.

TP: Let's talk about your style and your overall concept. You are a strong believer in the premise that Less is More, which coincidentally reminds me of something that percussionist, Tommy Lopez Sr. told percussionist Steven Kroon, who in turn told me this. According to Steve, Tommy was of the mind that flashy, extended percussion solos sounded like a garbage can rolling down a flight of stairs!

OV: Johnny Rodriguez used to say that extended solos sounded like a popcorn machine, and they do!

When I started out there were a lot of great players - Orlando Marin, Kako, Willie Rosario and many others. The competition was very intense and I was young and into being flashy at the time but now it has just become too much. The timbales don't even sound like timbales anymore.

TP: You have a name for the technical wizards and flashy players; you call them Billy the Kids.

OV: (Laughs) You know why? Because Billy the Kid was the fastest gun in the west and he was killed, so he didnt get anywhere!

TP: Your influence and your sound extend far and wide. Was it Changuito who pointed out to you that Issac Delgado's band, NG La Banda and many of today s Timba bands are playing your licks?

OV: It's been well documented that I did all of that before.

TP: Where is Latin music headed? Or is it?

OV: When I was five years old I listened to more advanced music than I hear today. When people don t understand what they are listening to the music has a tendency to go backwards. Also, there are a lot of people who have never received the credit they deserve. Like (multi-instrumentalist), Mario Rivera who was an absolute genius.

TP: Do you ever just sit back and reflect on your career? And if so, what goes through your mind.

OV: I am satisfied to have been part of something. But for now, I am more concerned with doing what I have to do.

TP: Your music is part of the soundtrack of my life and I thank you for that. It has been a pleasure and my honor to speak with one of the greatest timbaleros on the face of the earth.

OV: Thank you, Tomas.