During the month of September, folks in the state of Jalisco, particularly, and in Mexico, generally, the music known as Mariachi is celebrated. Its origin, just like the meaning of its name, has been hotly debated over the years, but contemporary mariachi music stems from nineteenth century amalgamations of indigenous folk traditions with articulations from both Spain and Africa. Initially, flutes, drums, and conch-shell horns figured prominently in the musical ensembles in Mexico; eventually, they gave way to importations from Spain of violins, guitars, harps, woodwinds, and brass horns. Some of these European instruments were reconfigured by the criollo and mestizo players. More recently, a deeper toned guitar known as the guitarró n helped form the bass sounds of ensembles, and a five-string guitar called the vihuela and trumpets, another foreign introduction, added depth and richness to the music.
Early in the twentieth century, mariachi started to flourish, especially beginning in the 1930s. With ensembles becoming commercial entities, other dimensions of the tradition started to expand and garner focus, such as the move from workers’ clothing to more expensive, embroidered dress ware and from the footwork known as zapateado to more intricate heel-pounding and shuffling machinations. As a result of increasing commercialization, mariachi music, in a sense, moved away from its folksy, religious, and spiritual roots to reach a wider audience. The songs now lift up the entire gamut of human existence: loving (of course!), political issues, honor and nobility, the reality of death, and rites of passage. And everyone knows “La Cucaracha” to some degree!
I am not a connoisseur of music. I do not read music fluently, and I dabble with but really do not play any instrument. However, I have a fine musical ear, have definite tastes for listening to any kind of music for just about three minutes, and have a clear understanding how music can often tell the story of a particular cultural heritage and traditions. Consequently, though not a music critic, I am keenly aware of the value of peoples’ musical repertoire.
On a few occasions, I have been serenaded by a mariachi band and very easily recognized the power and persuasiveness of its rhythms. There always seems to be a graciousness, a kindness, and a level of hubris, i.e., passion and cultural pride, that accompany the songsters and instrumentalists as they mingle among the listeners. Never has it entered my mind that what I was hearing was not “real” music or that the genre was not worthy of being studied in postsecondary schools.
To make such claims is similar to the denigration of Ebonics, rap, art songs, Spanish that is not Castilian, and the history of underrepresented groups in our body politic. It is a travesty of justice, grossly ignorant, and symbolic of the type of overt cultural discrimination still lingering in the twenty-first century. The rejection of mariachi as a legitimate musical form worthy of study should not be tolerated, and folks need to get together to make sure it is fully received into curricula.
