Accordion Dreams Press Review

Wednesday, August 15, 2001

Wielding Instrument of Change

Television * ‘Accordion Dreams’ chronicles how Mexican American have saved the squeezeboxes from extinction.

By AGUSTIN GURZA, Times Staff Writer

     Tex-Mex performer Joel Guzman confesses an odd musical secret in the opening minutes of “Accordion Dreams,” a new documentary about the instrument he’s played all his life.

     ”Before, [people would] say, ‘Only geeks play the accordion,”‘ he explains. “So you always practiced in a room and by yourself. Don’t let anybody know.”

     Judging by the way Guzman and other so-called “rebel accordionists” sling their squeezeboxes around on stage–and by the way their female fans scream as if they were rock stars–the lowly accordion has come out of hiding with a vengeance.

     The one-hour documentary–which airs tonight on KCET in Los Angeles–chronicles the journey of the button accordion from central Germany to central Texas, where it became the key instrument in the conjunto music of Mexican Americans.

     The popularity of the instrument spread throughout the U.S. with waves of migrant workers and gained a new international respect through performers such as Flaco Jimenez and Los Lobos.

     In fact, the film informs us, the accordion might well be extinct in popular American music today had it not been for Mexican Americans who infused the awkward instrument with swing and pumped new life into its pleated bellows.

     ”This music is not embarrassing anymore,” said Austin-based filmmaker Hector Galan, who wrote and directed the documentary. “It’s our music. It belongs to the Mexican American community. But it’s truly an American genre.”

     Galan, 47, started his career as a camera operator in his hometown of San Angelo, Texas, and in the early ’80s was a staff producer for “Frontline,” the PBS documentary series produced by WGBH-TV in Boston.

     Galan’s previous PBS credits include “Chicano! History of the Mexican American Civil Rights Movement,” a four-part series that aired in 1996. He’s currently working on a three-part series for PBS on Latino art and culture in America.

     ”It’s been a long struggle to convince the networks of the importance of Latino culture,” says Galan, who’s had his own production company since 1984. “I can finally bring stories [to the public] that were not being told. That makes me happy.”

     ”Accordion Dreams,” narrated by singer-songwriter Tish Hinojosa, is the second part of Galan’s planned trilogy on Tex-Mex music, starting with 1995’s “Songs of the Homeland.”

     The final segment will focus on the big, brassy Texas orquestas, such as Little Joe y La Familia and Sunny and the Sunliners.

     During his research on the roots of the accordion, Galan traveled twice to Germany, where he was surprised to find few signs of the instrument.

     ”They lost it,” says Galan. “They do not embrace this music the way we do as Mexican Americans. So we’re the ones who are maintaining the accordion.”

     In the documentary, we meet the elderly descendants of German settlers who came to Texas in the late 1800s with their accordions and lively polkas.

     In the town of New Braunfels, people of German stock were once the majority, but their numbers have dwindled since World War II, while the Mexican American population boomed.

     ”Every other teenager in town took accordion lessons,” recalls Barron Schlameus, a local historian with the New Braunfels Conservation Society, which operates Conservation Plaza, a replica of a German village. “It was the social thing to do. Today, there’s not an accordion teacher to be found.”

     As a boy, Tex-Mex accordion ace Jimenez would come to New Braunfels with his father, Santiago Jimenez, to hear the German polka bands.

     The elder Jimenez and other Mexican American musicians adopted the button accordion and developed a unique style of playing, more vigorous and exciting than the European counterpart.

     The Mexicans preferred the diatonic type of accordion, with three rows of buttons for the melody. It was cheaper and more portable than the more familiar chromatic accordion, which has piano keys instead of buttons.

     The Mexican musicians, however, use only the right hand to play the instrument. The left hand, which would normally play bass notes, is free to squeeze the box with gusto, adding that extra oomph that distinguishes their style.

     The film shows archival footage and photographs of pioneers of conjunto music, a cousin of norteno that also uses accordion. We meet Narciso Martinez, known as the father of the genre; Eva Ybarra, a self-taught musician who bucked biases against women playing what was considered low-class barroom music; and Valerio Longoria, among the first to put straps on the instrument and play standing up.

     It closes with an exiting look at the new generation of players, young men and women who are enthralled by music once considered hokey and old-fashioned.

     The rising stars in Texas today include 15-year-old Victoria Galvan of Corpus Christi, “whose accordion weighs as much as she does,” says her manager and mentor, Shirley Villareal of Hacienda Records.

     The young male players have no trouble whipping the instrument over their heads, slinging it below their gyrating waists and twirling around with the strapped device like dervishes. They look no more geeky than rock guitarists.

     ”I can play guitar,” says rebel accordionist Albert Zamora, sporting a Nike cap and rings on each ear. “I can play bass. I can play drums. You name it, I can play it. But I choose to play the accordion. And if that makes me a geek, somebody get me some glasses!”

Wednesday on WNET/Ch. 13 at 10

ACCORDIONS were invented so that nerdy cousins in Italian families would make the cool cousins look like terrible slack-offs to the aunts. I know this is true, because I am an Italian cousin.

Who knew that Texas-based Mexican-American kids would suddenly find the instrument not only tolerable, but so cool that they are turning away from rap stars to scream at kid musicians who bump and grind and twirl with, yes, accordions.

I’m not lying. And according to “Accordion Dreams,” a documentary on PBS, the traditional music - called Conjunto - is being reinvented by kids as young as 14.

And they are becoming stars in their own right. I mean, not Britney Spears, but then it’s difficult to play the accordion topless. Well, for girls anyway.

My favorite, however is a kid named Albert Zamora who wriggles and jiggles and twirls and sends the teen girls into fits of frenzy.

Filmmaker Hector Galan takes his cameras into the modern-day venues for conjunto and back again to where it all began, Germany. Yes, Germany.

Seems that the biggest wave of immigrants to Texas came from Germany, and with them the accordion, and with the accordion, dear God!, the polka. Yes, this Tex-Mex music evolved from the polka, which according to one historian, was invented in Poland.

While the background is fascinating, it would have been a lot more fun, for me, anyway, to focus more on the up-and-coming kids. Just follow one from gig to gig and go with them to their recording sessions. Talk to teen fans. It’s really fascinating to see these young kids rapping and rolling around with accordions.

There’s some very cool, very fun music to be had, too.

There are also plenty of interviews with veteran conjunto musicians a la “The Buena Vista Social Club” - without the tyranny of communism. You’d think the Commies would have come West just to rub out the accordion, but no luck.

You’ll also learn more than you ever wanted to know about an instrument you never wanted to play. Who knew there were so many different kinds? Yes, it’s a fun watch.

Ramon Renteria
El Paso Times

The button accordion is the soul of Texas-based Mexican-American conjunto music.

Award-winning filmmaker Hector Galán traces the popular instrument, its roots and influence on Tejano conjuntos in his latest documentary, “Accordion Dreams.”

The film is billed as a sequel to Galán’s acclaimed “Songs of the Heartland.” Texas singer/songwriter Tish Hinojosa narrates the film, which airs Thursday on PBS affiliates across the United States, including Las Cruces Channel 22-KRWG (El Paso cable Channel 4).

No one has done more than Galán, a seasoned filmmaker based in Austin, to put Mexican-Americans, their culture and history on the national landscape. His next project focuses on Hispanic art and culture in the United States.

Using archival footage and photos and a series of diverse interviews, Galán takes viewers on a foot-stomping journey from the traditional polka rhythms of Central Europe to the German settlers who brought the accordion to the rolling hills of Central Texas. The film applauds the Mexican-American pioneer musicians such as Narciso Martinez, who adopted the accordion, refined the rhythm and transformed it into pure conjunto, the lively squeezebox-driven music that makes Mejicanos dance.

Galán reminds us that conjunto is still evolving as a new wave of young accordionists embrace the music of their abuelitos and make it their own sound. Like one of Galán’s subjects in the film says, the accordion and conjunto music are good stuff, part of the permanent fabric that defines Mexican-Americans in Texas.

Once again, Galán has stepped forward to make Mexican-Americans and others feel the culture that he obviously loves.

Like conjunto music, “Accordion Dreams” will definitely move you.

Accordion Dreams
Directed by Hector Galán

San Benito-Austin-based documentary filmmaker Hector Galán couldn’t have picked a better backdrop than the historic La Villita dancehall and the Rio Grande Valley-birthplace of conjunto music-to present Accordion Dreams, his latest documentary. The film traces the arc of conjunto’s history from the early legends of the 1930s to the innovative young musicians who are keeping the art form alive today. In its heyday, from the mid-1950s to the late 1960s, La Villita was the heart of conjunto music in the Rio Grande Valley, the place to hear squeezebox super-stars Valerio Longoria, Narciso Martinez (”El Huracán del Valle”), and Santiago Jimenez. In the late ’70s the dancehall closed because of dwindling audiences and economic decline in the neighborhood. Now city officials want to rehab the building and turn it into a conjunto museum. But on the night of the Valley premier, La Villita’s deceased owner, Don Fernando Sanchez, seemed to be playing a practical joke. An hour before the film was supposed to begin, the power went out in half of San Benito, including La Villita. “Don Fernando turned the power off because the dance floor is too small,” an elderly audience member confided to her friend.

City officials quickly pulled out their cell phones. Galán and his wife, Evy Ledesma, lit luminarias on the sidewalk to prove to hundreds of conjunto fans-many of whom had driven from as far away as Houston and Dallas-that the show would go on. Across the street, cantina regulars carried their drinks out to the sidewalk and wondered aloud about all of the commotion at the old dancehall. Out front, conjunto fans in their sixties and seventies waxed nostalgic about La Villita and the days when they could hear hits like Valerio Longoria’s “El Rosalito” from blocks away, long before they reached the dancehall. San Benito native Manuel Gonzalez, 65, had driven about 300 miles, all the way from Buda, to witness La Villita’s brief revival. “This brings back so many memories,” he said, recalling his days at La Villita in the 1950s. “You would work all week and on the weekends this place was it-you couldn’t believe the musicians you could see here.”

In little less than a half hour, the city’s fire department provided a generator for the film projector and emergency lights to illuminate the dance floor. Even more miraculously, the film started on time at 8:00 p.m.-unusual even in normal circumstances for the Valley.

The documentary film, second in a planned trilogy on the history of Tejano music, follows the travels of the three-row button accordion from its arrival in central Texas with German and Czech immigrants in the early 19th century. The catchy polkas caught the ear of Texas Mexicans, or Tejanos, in the Rio Grande Valley. They adapted the polka into conjunto-the Tejano’s working man blues-a blending of accordion, bajo sexto (12-string guitar), and drums.

Accordion Dreams intermixes the biographies of legendary performers such as Narciso Martinez and Flaco Jimenez (probably the most familiar crossover performer to those not well versed in the music), with footage of live performances by present-day favorites such as Benny Layton and Ruben Vela. Galán then takes a detour to the small, central Texas town of New Braunfels, where Texans of German descent still play the traditional polkas and waltzes that intrigued Tejanos in the last century. But traditional accordion music is slowly dying out among people of German descent in Texas, and now is only occasionally played in retirement communities and at church parties. “Accordion music is being lost throughout the United States and Europe,” Galán explained before the film’s premiere. “There are only small pockets where the traditional music is surviving in places like Louisiana and Texas.”

Austin singer-songwriter Tish Hinojosa narrates the hour-long documentary and Kathy Ragland, a New York-based ethnomusicologist, provides a historical perspective. Conjunto historians, including Amadeo Flores, 68, an accordionist who played with legendary players like Valerio Longoria and Tony de la Rosa, add personal perspectives on the music’s social and cultural roles in the Mexican-American community. From the opening scene, Galán emphasizes that conjunto is still very much alive among music fans. The film begins with 17-year-old Jesse Turner of the small Valley town of Santa Rosa, playing at a high school dance with his band, Estilo. Now 23, Turner is just one of many young accordionists who have taken conjunto, added some rock ‘n’ roll twists and slick dance moves, and made the music more accessible to a younger audience. At the high school dance in Accordion Dreams, the young girls go wild at Turner’s pelvic thrusts and skittering feet. Suddenly the accordion is sexy, and conjunto is no longer just your grandparents’ music-something to be shunned at all costs.

“When I was a kid accordion music was embarrassing,” Ledesma, a Harlingen native, told me. “I’m 41. I grew up in the ’70s and we were into rock ‘n’ roll music in English and trying to fit into the larger culture. Now these kids are into conjunto and they’ve found a way to be true to their own culture and still be Americans.” In the film, older conjunto musicians like Amadeo Flores are pleased that the younger generation has taken an interest in the music. “We teach them and they teach us,” says Flores, of the new conjunto players. “In the old days we played, stopped then sang. Now they do everything all at once.”

Refreshingly, Galán also focuses on the struggle of women pioneers in conjunto music. Eva Ibarra, now in her late ’50s, rips it up in an impromptu performance, as Hinojosa narrates the difficulties Ibarra faced when she was the only woman in a macho musical world. Ibarra started playing conjunto accordion at six; her father would book her in dancehalls around South Texas as a novelty act. As she grew older, however, she was often criticized for playing conjunto accordion, which was viewed as being strictly for men. The bars and nightclubs where she played were considered unseemly for a woman, but Ibarra ignored the naysayers and continued to make records and perform. Today she plays and tours with Hinojosa in the all-woman group, Las Super Tejanas. In Accordion Dreams, musicians Cecilia Saenz, 17, and Victoria Galvan, 15, show that attitudes have progressed greatly since Ibarra was their age, and that conjunto has finally opened up as a viable avenue for young women performers.

Hector Galán is a San Angelo native who has deep roots in the Rio Grande Valley. For decades, he’s focused his lens on the Texas-Mexico border. The first film in his music documentary trilogy, Songs of the Homeland, which won the Top Juror Award at CineFestival in San Antonio in 1995, also focused on the border. Another documentary, The Forgotten Americans, which aired on PBS last fall, portrayed the plight of poverty-stricken families along the border. (Accordion Dreams will also be picked up by PBS, and is slated to air in September.) At first it can be difficult to explain the importance of conjunto to people outside of the border region, says Galán. “People in Washington, D.C. and New York are like, ‘What’s conjunto?’” he says wryly. “It’s the cultural legacy of this region and a significant contribution to American music-even if it is in Spanish.”

At the Valley premier it was obvious that conjunto meant so much more to the audience. The event had an intimate family feel, and there were murmurs of recognition as black-and-white photos of musicians from yesteryear appeared on screen. Older audience members laughed at old dancehall photos and at the outfits and hairstyles that seemed hopelessly outdated. After the premier, several musicians featured in the film performed on La Villita’s stage-the same stage where accordionist Amadeo Flores performed more than 50 years ago. “Back then the dancehall didn’t have a roof,” he recalled. “I remember one night it rained and everyone kept dancing; they didn’t care.” (The roof was added in the late ’60s to make La Villita more comfortable for receptions and weddings, much to the dismay of Flores, who thinks it affects the quality of the sound.)

For Jesse Turner, playing there at the Valley premier with some of the legends of conjunto music was an opportunity to pay homage to his heroes and to his father, a lifelong conjunto fan. But once again, Don Fernando seemed to be playing tricks. The night of the premier Turner had a bad cold and said he wouldn’t sing. But as he launched into his second song and couples began to hit the dance floor, he was carried away by the evening and changed his mind. “I couldn’t help it,” he later explained. “It’s an honor to be here.”

Melissa Sattley is a reporter at The Monitor in McAllen. Flaco Jimenez, Ruben Vela and other accordion wizards can also be heard at the Tejano Conjunto Festival in San Antonio, May 9-13.

LA PRENSA- SAN DIEGO
AUGUST, 2001
ACCORDION DREAMS

Exciting New Music Documentary Film Chronicles The History of the Accordion as it Journeys From Central Europe toCentral Texas to Create a Unique American Musical Genre

Accordion Dreams, the newest documentary from acclaimed filmmaker Hector Galán brings the rich and diverse history of Texas-based Mexican-American Conjunto music to the forefront. With its roots in the traditional polka rhythms of Central Europe the button accordion travels with the German settlers to the rolling hills of Central Texas, where it is adopted by native Mexican-Americans and becomes the focal point of the wildly successful Texas Conjunto music. Accordion Dreams is presented on PBS by Latino Public Broadcasting, a non-profit organization whose mission is to provide a voice for the diverse Latino community throughout the United States. Accordion Dreams will premiere nationally on Thursday, August 30, 2001 at 10 PM (ET) on PBS (Check your local listings).

Narrated by Texas-based singer/songwriter Tish Hinojosa, Accordion Dreams captures the history and impact of the European button accordion on the development of a uniqe American musical genre called Conjunto, a word that literally means, “harmony/union” in Spanish. The film features exciting performance footage, archival footage/photos, and heartfelt interviews, weaving a character driven story that entertains as it educates.

With Accordion Dreams I wanted to literally follow the button accordion’s journey from Europe to Texas and explore its major role in the creation of this musical expression called conjunto-that is native to Texas,” says Galán. “To do this, we focused in on Central Texas, specifically the city of New Braunfels, which was settled in the late 1800’s by German immigrants.”

Featured in the documentary is Pearly Sowell, a German descendant who strive to maintain the German traditional music handed down to her in an environment that is rapidly changing. Baron Shlamaus, a historian and head of the New Braunfels conservation sociey, sheds light on the early beginnings of the accordion, its arrival in Texas, its Polish/Czech influence, and its impact on the Mexican communities of Texas.

The documentary also examines the Italian immigrant community’s impact on the popularity of the accordion in the United States. Eddie Chavez, a prominent accordion historian, whose book, The Golden Age of the Accordion, is considered one to the most comprehensive writings on the subject, reminisces with fondness about the “Golden Age” when the accordion was at the top of its popularity in mainstream America, and acknowledges that it is today’s conjunto musicians who are “keeping accordion music alive.”

As the Mexican-American farmworkers community has made its way from coast to coast with seasonal harvest work, awareness of this particular type of music has reached a much broader audience.

“Wherever there is a Mexican-American presence in the United States, the strains of the button accordion can be heard-whether on Spanish language radio or live performances,” says Galán. “This is a music so rooted in the culture that it has survived the test of time and is enjoying a resurgence among Mexican-American youth. They have taken the music of their past and embraced it. To Mexican-American youth with Texas connections, the button accordion is what the electric guitar was to rock-n-roll during its renaissance in the 60’s. The same thing is happening today.”

Accordion Dreams also takes a fresh look at women in conjunto musicians because the music was often associated with cantinas or dancehalls and not “appropriate” for women. Featured artist Eva Ybarra managed to overcome the barriers that existed against women in conjunto music and has become one of the legends of the genre.

Today, more women accordionists-among them fifteen-year-old Victoria Galván and twenty-year-old Cecilia Saenz-are challenging old stereotypes and taking the music to a new level.From lively polkas to smooth waltzes. Accordion Dreams captures an exhilarating musical style that is rapidly winning fans worldwide.

“This film is going to dispel any misconceptions people may have about accordion music,” adds Galán. The documentary looks at today’s young rebel accordionists who have expanded this musical style to the

ringes of rock, blues, and pop, while paying homage to its pioneers and legends. Representing the latter are Flaco Jimenez, Oma and the Oompahs, Tony De La Rosa, Valerio Longoria, Ruben Vela, Paulino Bernal, Eva Ybarra. Among the former are Albert Zamora, up and coming accordion whiz Jesse Turner, and fifteen-year-old sensation Victoria Galván.

A comprehensive, interactive Accordion Dreams website will be launched on the August 30th broadcast date on the PBS Website at www.pbs.org.