Final Project: Central American Revolutionary Music
hasta-la-victoria-record-cover-1.pdf
(photo of mural courtesy of Centro Cultural de Batahola Norte, Managua, Nicaragua, Spring 2007)
¡Hasta la Victoria Siempre!
A CD with Revolutionary Music from El Salvador and Nicaragua
With additional revolutionary tracks by composers from South America
This album is a compilation of revolutionary songs written by and for the El Salvadoran and Nicaraguan people, as well as several tracks of revolutionary songs written by South American composers that is still listened to in El Salvador and Nicaragua today. Both El Salvador and Nicaragua had civil wars in the 1970s and 1980s, with overtones of anti-imperialist, grass-roots organized, guerilla based movements to overturn dictatorships and/or U.S.-backed military-invasions of their countries. Both used music as a vital tool within their arsenal of weapons to motivate, glorify, and stand by their side of the wars. Both countries continue to use selective revolutionary music to this day in patriotic marches, protest events, and large national gatherings. The identity of these newly liberated nations is intrinsically wrapped up in the revolutionary music that played a part of their re-birth, and continues to play into their nation-identity today.
To give some small amount of context, El Salvador is a country of 8,124 sq mi and an estimated 5.8 million people, making it the most densely populated country in Central America—it is slightly smaller than the size of New Jersey.
(from http://www.vmapas.com/Americas/El_Salvador/El_Salvador_Political_Map_2004.jpg/maps-en.html?map_viewMap=1)
Nicaragua is the largest country in Central America, with 50,337 sq mi, and is just shy of the size of Louisiana. It the least densely populated country in Central America, with only 5.67 million people.
(from http://www.vmapas.com/Americas/Nicaragua/Nicaragua_Tourist_Map.jpg/maps-en.html)
There is a small but extremely accurate body of literature that treats the history of revolutionary song in both Nicaragua and El Salvador. One of the first authors who published on this topic was the eminent ethnomusicologist Robert Pring-Mill. He translates an entire letter written by Comandante Carlos Nuñez Tellez that discusses the various purposes of revolutionary music, addressing group Pancasán and their audience, which was published inside the cover of their first album ¡Vamos Haciendo la Historia! (We are Making History!) (1979)
Revolutionary song in our Country has been nourishment, light and stimulus for us to remember our fallen bretheren in difficult hours, and a stone with which to strike the enemy. It penetrated our people to enflame them in the bonfire of the insurrection, it aroused our youth in combat, it taught children to love the struggle of Sandinismo, and it helped to awaken a military fervour at all levels of the populace. Revolutionary song sprang from the throats of the people to urge us on in the hours of defeat, it gave shape to the thought of fallen leaders, it brought out of anonymity the thought of a great multitude of combatants from the hills and fields of the land, and it opened wide the doors of history in order to teach our people the contents of their epic [deeds], their role as protagonists [both] in history and in the revolutionary transformations of the Country of Sandino and Carlos Fonseca.
Song has [always] been one of the means used by our people to speak of its poverty, its sufferings [and] the exploitation to which it has been submitted for so long. While [working] in clandestinity, in conspiratorial activity [or] in the trenches of the war we have listened to these voices [of the people] singing about life and communicating their hopes for the future, demanding bread, liberties, a new regime, [and] a more just society (Pring-Mill 1987: 181).
While Comandante Carlos Nuñez Tellez outlines all of the functions of the revolutionary music in a concise, clear way, his main point, which all subsequent authors echo, is that “protest music was used by the popular classes as an ‘ideological weapon’ against the state-sponsored repression in the late 1970s and early 1980s” (Almeida and Urbizagástegui 1999:19). This simple idea, that music is itself a weapon used by the insurrection, carries through every single song written during this time period.
Song was an extremely useful weapon in El Salvador and Nicaragua during their civil wars, because due to the high illiteracy rates songs often “serve as a more powerful educator of movement strategy than written material” (Almeida and Urbizagástegui 1999:17). The songs themselves also encouraged group participation—as seen by many of the examples on this disc, live recordings include sing-alongs, vocal group shouted responses, clapping, and applause. Making music together provides “participants a sense of common purpose and collective identity, confidence, means of expressing dissent to target groups, and even an ideological weapon against state violence” (Almeida and Urbizagástegui 1999:19). It is this idea of a common identity, the “pueblo,” which was vocalized so strongly in all revolutionary songs, that bonded people from various sectors of Salvadoran and Nicaraguan society together to a common cause; and revolutionary songs directly contributed to that sense of a shared identity and common purpose.
The idea of the pueblo, or “people,” is the “key term or trope in the identity discourse of Central American revolutionary music,” states political scientist Fred Judson. “Inclusive, positive, respectful, empowering, and democratic are all inferential in the music’s articulation of ‘the people’” (2002:16). This dominant identity concept was in direct opposition to the concept of the militaristic oligarchies or dictatorships that had ruled Nicaragua and El Salvador for decades, with land, power, ownership, and political voice wrapped up in the hands of very few people. The idea of the pueblo was directly related to popular, that all people of the nation could participate, and one of the best ways to confer that idea was in folk-like songs with which anyone could sing along. Also inherent in the idea of pueblo is the dichotomy of class—even if the pueblo included every member of the nation-state, it set its group identity up to specifically exclude those from the very upper classes who had held power for so long.
The instruments of oppression and class rule, the military, police, state security and intelligence operatives, also fall under the category of enemies of the people, though often it is made clear that they are tools and could morally and patriotically redeemed…That is not the case with the ‘enemy behind the enemy,’ imperialism, the United States government (Judson 2002:212).
Thus, the clear delineation of identity into “us vs. them,” and the need to define oneself against what one is not—a concept we have discussed at length in this course—has definitive layers. The overarching ideology promoted by the revolutionary groups became a very well justified anti-imperialist, anti-U.S. government stance.
As the main purpose of the revolutionary guerrillas and musical groups was nationalism, that is, to definite themselves as a nation apart from the current dictatorship or oligarchy in power, or the towering neighbor to the north, the idea of the patria, or “homeland” (also known as fatherland, motherland) was also very important. “The identity of the pueblo, then, is ultimately linked with their patria, when that patria is liberated, when that patria is fully popular. Such an identity is pointedly political, in that it is only realized with access to state power, as well as being nationalistic and patriotic” (Judson 2002:219). Since the revolutionary cause was a nationalistic cause, many themes in the music itself reference a sense of place. Names of places, battles, or towns are very important; describing the landscape suddenly has a double-meaning; and singers claiming their land as their own, defining their space as belonging to them with revolutionary, nationalistic pride, runs as an overarching theme throughout many tracks on this disc.
The need to reclaim also carried over into the expression of the music itself. In Nicaragua, for example, just after the revolution won by the FSLN (Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional, or Sandinista National Liberation Front) in 1979, a cultural campaign began to rescatar lo nuestro, or “rescue or recuperate that which is ours,” as the people felt a need to “salvage ‘authentic’ Nicaraguan culture that had been repressed and denigrated during the over four decades of rule by the Somoza dynasty” (Scruggs 2002:118). The new leftist Sandinista political leaders directly equated artistic freedom with a recuperation of national identity, as the new Minister of Culture proclaimed, “’The basic objective [of our Revolution] is the conquest of our national identity’” (Scruggs 2002:118). The way in which this national identity was to be formed was directly related to the Sandinista’s view of the masses, as “[t]he clases populares had been denied and oppressed…Economic and social liberation, then, should release, and be spurred forward with the flowering of repressed cultura popular (popular, or people’s culture)” (Scruggs 2002:118).
This meant that although the musical settings of the revolutionary songs were influenced by Anglo-American rock, including music from both white and black artists, as well as popular music from all over Latin America, there was a major dependence on local, Nicaraguan forms (Scruggs 2002:120). A typical instrumentation would include a “marimba de arco” trio, or a marimba player, a guitarist, and a smaller guitarria (Scruggs 2002:121). This was very important to the “authenticity” of the Nicaraguan folk idiom, as the marimba is claimed to be indigenous to Central America, and features prominently in almost every single track on this disc.
Lyrics, as well, were of utmost importance in the musical settings of the revolutionary songs. Paul Almeida and Rubén Urbizagástegui’s seminal work on Cutumay Camones, a revolutionary Salvadoran group created specifically by the guerilla-fighters FMLN (Frente Farabundo Martí para la Liberación Nacional) to “mobilize segments of the popular classes through music” (1999:17), which was achieved mainly through the use of explicit lyrics. The music disseminated by the FMLN was so potent that it was recorded clandestinely, played live only in zones of control by the FMLN, and distributed discretely by cassette tape and mini-songbooks (Almeida and Urbizagástegui 1999:20). The reason that the militarized state-government was so afraid of the popular music was due, in large part, to its lyrics. Like Tellez’s original statement of the purposes of Nicaraguan revolutionary music, Almeida and Urbizagástegui outline a trajectory of the intended purposes of Salvadoran revolutionary music throughout the war:
(1999:35)
It is clear that the themes and moods of the revolutionary songs are derived from a particular political context. The rhetoric of the lyrics of Cutumay Camones, literally the voice of the FMLN, shifted from justifying the armed resistance from a historical standpoint, to celebrating military victories, to explaining complicated military procedures and activities in songs, to advocating for dialogue and peace, to exalting martyrs, to warning its people to arm themselves to rise again in their eighth year. Similar purposes were promoted in Nicaraguan revolutionary music, according to Tellez (see above).
None of these varying political purposes would have been possible without the establishment of a group identity and purpose, and it was the music itself—the settings and the lyrics, together—that made the group identity and sense of belonging and marching forward towards a greater goal, possible. It was due in large part to the success of these revolutionary Salvadoran and Nicaraguan songs that their respective political parties were able to mobilize their pueblo and people, securing their patria and advancing, in the words of the FSLN, to victory always, or ¡Hasta la Victoria Siempre!
List of Tracks:
1. “Nicaragua, Nicaraguita,” written and performed Carlos Mejia Godoy, Nicaragua (3:57)
2. “El Sombrero Azul,” by Alí Primera, Venezuela (6:20)
This performance is sung by Alí Primera, the Venezuelan who composed this song for the Salvadoran people, and he is actually performing it at a peace rally in Managua in 1983. The inter-textuality of the song is self-evident: not only are multiple countries and nationalities at play, and multiple liberation movements, but it is interesting to note the high amount of energy that the Nicaraguans have, cheering for their neighbors the Salvadorans and hoping that their struggle, too, will end as positively as Nicaragua’s. Note the high amount of audience participation; each time Primera sings Dále (which is translated as “Go for it!” or “Give it up!” or “Let it rip!” depending on the context), the audience shouts it back at the end of the phrase and—although you can’t see it only the video—they pump their fists in the air. This is an extremely famous song in El Salvador, and was still being played in 2007 when I was marching in a parade to honor the international Día de la Mujer, or Women’s Day. It was being blared from the back of a truck, and every time Primera’s voice sang out “Dále,” hundreds of red and purple pom-poms would raise to the sky.
Notice the folk elements of Primera’s performance–his dress, a solo guitar with a few back-up drums, very little electrical necessity in his performance, and his creation of a musical setting that appeals to group identity through sing-along. His lyrics are below:
El pueblo salvadoreño
tiene el cielo por sombrero
tan alta es su dignidad
en la búsqueda del tiempo
en que florezca la tierra
por los que han ido cayendo
y que venga la alegría
a lavar el sufrimiento (2x)
Dále que la marcha es lenta
pero sigue siendo marcha
dále que empujando al sol
se acerca la madrugada
dale que la lucha tuya
es pura como una muchacha
cuando se entrega al amor
con el alma liberada
(Coro)
Dále salvadoreño, dále
que no hay pájaro pequeño, dále
que después de alzar el vuelo, dále
se detenga en su volar (2x)
Al verde que yo le canto
es el color de tus maizales
no al verde de las boinas
de matanzas tropicales
las que fueron al Vietnam
a quemar los arrozales
y andan por estas tierras
como andar por sus corrales
(Coro)
Hermano salvadoreño
viva tu sombrero azul
dále que tu limpia sangre
germinará sobre el mar
y será una enorme rosa
de amor por la humanidad
hermano salvadoreño
viva tu sombrero azul
Tendrán que llenar el mundo
con masacres del Sumpul
para quitarte las ganas
del amor que tienes tú
(Coro)
(from http://usuarios.lycos.es/aliprimera/Sombrero_azul.htm)
And here is the translation found on the video above, which is fairly true to the original:
The Salvadoran people
has the sky for a hat
so high is its dignity
as it searches for the time
when the earth will flower
for those who have fallen
when happiness will come
to replace the suffering (2x)
Come on, the march is slow,
but it’s still a march
come on, by pushing the sun
the dawn gets closer
Come on, your fight is pure
like a girl
when she gives herself in love
with a free soul
(Chorus)
Come on, Salvadoean
there’s not a single bird
which, after taking flight
stops in midair. (2x)
I sing to the green
of your green corn fields
not to the green of the berets
of tropical massacres
the ones which went to Vietnam
to burn the rice fields
I cry for those lands
as I walk across them
(Chorus)
Brother Salvadoran
long live your blue hat
Come on, let your clean blood
spread across the sea
and become an enormous rose
of love for humanity
Brother Salvadoran,
long live your blue hat
The world would have to be full
of massacres of Sumpul
to stop your desire
for love
(Chorus)
If we focus on the lyrics of the song, they all fit into Almeida and Urbizagásgtegui’s reference frames for the purposes of Central American revolutionary songs. The most powerful imagery is that of Primera calling to the Salvadoran people to dále, or “keep going,” a motivational theme, saying that even a small bird will not stop mid-flight, i.e., the revolution must continue now that it has started. Primera also references martyrs, “those who have fallen,” and sings that the earth will flower for them, thereby glorifying their death, insinuating that it served a higher purpose. This fits into another Almeida and Urbizagástegui’s stated purposes of revolutionary songs, of honoring the martyrs that have died for the insurgents’ cause. He refers to the ideological reasons that they are fighting, saying that their fight is “pure,” which fits into yet another Almeida and Urbizagástegui purpose, that revolutionary songs further their own ideology by referencing their own reasons for continuing to fight. He refers to the overarching, oppressive “Other,” of the United States (the green berets that are burning rice paddies in Vietnam), and defends the space of El Salvador by saying that he cries when he walks over their lands of green corn fields. Finally, he refers to the historical massacre at Las Aradas, on the River Sumpul, which is when the Salvadoran army, backed by the United States, killed 600 innocent civilians on May 25th, 1980. Primera tells the people to keep going, as their larger goal of “love” for all cannot be stopped even by the atrocity of that massacre.
3. “Chilotito Tierno,” written and performed by Carlos Mejia Godoy, Nicaragua (2:41)
4. “Gloria al Señor,” written and performed by Guillermo Cuellar, El Salvador (4:25)
5. “La Tumba del Guerrillero,” written and performed by Carlos Mejia Godoy, Nicaragua (4:57)
6. “Homenaje a Monseñor Romero” written and performerd by Yolacamba Ita, El Salvador (4:51)
7. “Somos Hijos del Maíz,” written and performed by Luis Enrique Mejia Godoy, Nicaragua (5:29)
8. “Hoy Nació El Día del Pueblo” written and performed by Cutumay Camones, El Salvador (3:56)
9. “Cristo de Palacaguina,” written and performed by Carlos Mejia Godoy, Nicaragua (3:00)
Carlos Mejia Godoy is perhaps the most famous singer-songwriter of all time in Nicaragua. The Nicaraguan poet Julia Valle-Castillo wrote of him in liner notes to Mejia’s CD Monimbó (1980), “Carlos Mejía Godoy doesn’t sing to the people. The people sing in him, through him and with him. A popular voice. Voice and song of the people” (in Judson 2002:216). I was able to see Carlos Mejia Godoy perform live twice while I was in Nicaragua in Spring 2007, and his charisma is palpable—the audience adores him. His strength lies in his ability to synthesize so many aspects of the Nicaraguan pueblo—their storytelling, their turns of phrase, their aspects, their individualized vocabulary—and put them into his songs, making them undeniably Nica. Below are the words to one of his most famous guerrillero songs. I was taught this song in January 2008 by a former fighter, now farmer, Pilar, who not only remembered all of the words, but was able to pick it out on the guitar, as well, attesting to the power of music to motivate the soldiers of the party it promotes.
Cristo de Palacaguina (Cristo Ya Nació En Palacaguina) – Carlos Mejia Godoy
| En el cerro de la Iguana Montaña adentro de la Segovia Se vió un resplandor extraño Como una aurora de medianocheLos maizales se prendieron Los quiebraplata se estremecieron Liovió luz por Moyogalpa Por Telpaneca y por Chichigalpa[Chorus] Cristo ya nació en Palacaguina Del Chepe Pavón y una tal Marìa Ella va a planchar muy humildemente La ropa que goza la mujer ociosa Del terratenienteLas gentes para mirarlo Se rejuntaron en un molote El indio Joaquìn le trajo Quesillo en trenzas de NagaroteEn vez de oro, incienso y mirra le regalaron segùn yo supe Cajetillas de Diriomo y hasta buñuelos de Guadalupe [Repeat Chorus]José el pobre jornalero Se mecateìa todito el dìa Lo tiene con reumatismo El tequio de la carpinterìaMarra sueña que el hijo Igual que al tata sea carpintero Pero el cipatillo piensa “Mañana quiero ser guerri Ilero!” [Repeat Chorus]© 1975 Carlos Mejta Godoy |
On the hill of the Iguana In the mountain town Segovia A strange splendor was seen Like a burst of dawn at midnightThe corn stalks lit up The lightning bugs trembled Light fell like rain on Moyogalpa On Telpaneca and Chichlgalpa[Chorus] Christ has just been born in Palacagulna To that guy Joe and, you know, Maria Very humbly, she goes to iron The clothes of the landowner’s lazy wife Just to see, the people All gathered ’round a hill Joaquin the Indian Brought him braided cheese from NagaroteInstead of gold, incense and myrrh I heard they gave him Sweet cakes from Dirlomo And those deep-frled doughnuts from Guadalupe[Repeat Chorus]Joseph the poor day laborer Breaks his back all day He’s caught rheumatism, poor Joe From the sawdust in the woodshopMaria dreams that her son Like his father, will become a carpenter But already the kid’s thinking “Tomorrow I wanna be a guerrilla fighter!”[Repeat Chorus]Translated by Marco Guino |
(from http://www.marcogiunco.com/Testi/002524_03.htm)
The key factor within the lyrics of this song is its blending of history and Christian imagery. It plays directly into the ideas of Latin American theology, which holds the basic premise is that Christ’s suffering is echoed within the suffering of the innocent people everywhere, and that Christ lived and died for the very people in poverty like those all over Latin America who pray daily for salvation. The idea that Christ is on the side of the people, and that they can fight for their own freedom (a la Christ wanting to become a guerilla fighter), was a new concept to many Salvadorans in the 1970s and began the entire social unrest and movement building that led to the outbreak of the war. The church played a vital role in the education of the campesinos in rural areas of El Salvador. The assassination of their most beloved champion of the rights of the poor, Archbishop Monseñor Oscar Romero, led to his ascendance into the most famous and celebrated martyr in El Salvador to this day.
10. “Rompe el Silencio,” written and performed by Perro Zompopo (4:15)
11. “Canción Urgente Para Nica,” performed by Sylvio Rodríguez, Cuba (3:02)
12. “Casas de Cartón” written by Alí Primera, performed by Los Guaraguao, Venezuela (3:59)
13. “El Himno de la Unidad” written by Sergio Ortega, Chile (3:02)
14. “Solo le Pido a Dios,” written by León Geico, performed by Mercedes Sosa, Argentina (4:42)
This is a song that would have been listened to during large rallies in the 1970s and 1980s in both Nicaragua and El Salvador; listen for the “¡Viva Sandino!” or “Long Live [the national Nicaraguan hero/martyr] Sandino!” at the very beginning of the audio track only. The song is written by the famous composer León Gieco, who is from Argentina and moved to Los Angeles for one year—1978—due to political persecution (he had previously toured world-wide). While in L.A., he composed this song, which is by far his most famous composition. It is sung by Mercedes Sosa, whose full name is Haydee Mercedes Sosa, who is also from Argentina and was born in 1935. She is an extremely famous singer around the world, known specifically for her dark vocal color and her low range; she has a two-octave register. While she is not specifically from El Salvador or Nicaragua, the lyrics still remain close to the purposes outlined by Almeida and Urbizagástegui of motivation and “staying strong” for the revolutionary cause, as well as the reconciliation and peace themes that were prevalent at the end of the wars in both countries. She also would have performed in Central America during this time, and this song, like tracks #12-15, are part of the pan-Latin America revolutionary canon.
Sólo le pido a Dios
Que el dolor no me sea indiferente,
Que la reseca muerte no me encuentre
Vacía y solo sin haber hecho lo suficiente.
Sólo le pido a Dios
Que lo injusto no me sea indiferente,
Que no me abofeteen la otra mejilla
Después que una garra me arañó esta suerte.
Sólo le pido a Dios
Que la guerra no me sea indiferente,
Es un monstruo grande y pisa fuerte
Toda la pobre inocencia de la gente. (2x)
<solo de armónica>
Sólo le pido a Dios
Que el engaño no me sea indiferente
Si un traidor puede más que unos cuantos,
Que esos cuantos no lo olviden fácilmente.
Sólo le pido a Dios
Que el futuro no me sea indiferente,
Desahuciado está el que tiene que marchar
A vivir una cultura diferente.
<letras.terra.com>
And here is my translation of the lyrics:
I only ask of God
That the pain does not make me indifferent,
That dry death does not find me
Empty and alone, without having done enough.
I only ask of God
That the unjust does not make me indifferent,
That they do not slap my other cheek
After a claw scratched me out this luck.
I only ask of God
That the war does not make me indifferent,
It is a great monster and strongly tramples
All the poor innocence of the people. (2x)
<harmonica solo>
I only ask of God
That the deceit does not make me indifferent
If a traitor can go farther than a few people,
That those few won’t forget it easily
I only ask of God
That the future does not make me indifferent
He is evicted, the one who has to march
To live a different culture.
Notice that Mercedes, like Primera and Godoy, includes a large amount of audience participation; again, this would have helped the group identity and pueblo mentality that so pushed forward revolutionary music during this time. She chooses to perform with only acoustic instruments–guitar, harmonica, voice, and drums. This is a gesture towards the instruments that would have been available to the masses at the time, referring back to the idea of música popular, and making the music as reflective of, and accessible to, the masses as possible. The lyrics themselves, like Primera’s, push the idea of motivation and staying with the revolutionary cause, praying for strength and stamina through a long war that “strongly tramples the poor innocence of the people.” The repetitive nature of the song and the easily-singable melody means that it is ideal for more audience participation, and it is easy to hear the audience clapping and singing along; taking ownership of this song for themselves. The tempo is slow, but accommodates both the long lyrical lines of the voice as well as small instrumental improvisation, and a driving guitar/percussion beat. Although this song is not written by or performed by a Nicaraguan or Salvadoran, it would definitively have been performed in both of those countries, and fits beautifully into the purposes of Central American Revolutionary music as outlined by Almeida and Urbizagástegui, Scruggs, Pring-Mill, and Judson.
Works Cited:
Almeida, Paul, & Rubén Urbizagástegui. 1999. “Cutumay Camones: Popular Music in El Salvador’s National Liberation Movement.” Latin American Perspectives 26(2): 13-42.
El Salvador. Encyclopædia Britannica. 2009. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. http://www.search.eb.com/eb/article-9110098. Last accessed May 13, 2009.
El Salvador Tourist Map, VMaps. http://www.vmapas.com/Americas/El_Salvador/El_Salvador_Political_Map_2004.jpg/maps-en.html?map_viewMap=1. Last accessed May 13, 2009.
Judson, Fred. 2002. “Central American Revolutionary Music.” In Music and Marx: Ideas, Practice, Politics, ed. Regula Burckhardt Qureshi. New York: Routledge, 204-235.
Letras.mus.br. http://letras.terra.com.br/mercedes-sosa/63324/. Last accessed May 12, 2009.
Lycos. http://usuarios.lycos.es/aliprimera/Sombrero_azul.htm. Last accessed May 12, 2009
Nicaragua. Encyclopædia Britannica. 2009. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. http://www.search.eb.com/eb/article-9110104. Last accessed May 13, 2009.
Nicaragua Tourist Map; VMaps. http://www.vmapas.com/Americas/Nicaragua/Nicaragua_Tourist_Map.jpg/maps-en.html. Last accessed May 13, 2009.
Pring-Mill, Robert. 1987. “The roles of revolutionary song—a Nicaraguan assessment.” Popular Music 6(2): 179-189.
Scruggs, T.M. 2002. “Musical Style and Revolutionary Context in Sandinista Nicaragua.” In “I Sing the Difference: Identity and Commitment in Latin American Song: A Symposium in Honour of Robert Pring-Mill, ed. Jan Fairley and David Horn. Liverpool, UK: Institute of Popular Music, University of Liverpool, 117-134.
———1999. “‘Let’s Enjoy as Nicaraguans’: The Use of Music in the Construction of a Nicaraguan National Consciousness.” Ethnomusicology 43(2):297-321.
The Fast Folk Musical Magazine. Mark Guico. http://www.marcogiunco.com/Testi/002524_03.htm. Last accessed May 13, 2009.
No comments yet.