Some men anchor themselves in places and become an intimate part of their best works. They are almost always passionate beings, with the discipline and the indispensable talent to transcend and, for that reason, they touch the soul of spaces and transform them for the better. In Las Tunas we have had many such people.
Perhaps for that reason, more than bringing back the maestro Cristino Márquez, we want to show our pride for knowing him the encouragement of outstanding efforts in the cultural work of these places. And, by the way, to tell some chapters of his old history to the very young people who did not have the fortune of listening to the chords of El Madrugador (The early bird) accompanying the city's passing one day, from the clock in the park; or do not know yet that the maestro is included in the select list of the 100 most outstanding Cuban musicians of the last century.
He was an Illustrious Son of this region and he once confessed it in an interview, categorically: "Pioneer in many things". And he did not say it wrong. Cristino founded the Municipal Concert Band in 1975 and, years later, the school of those groups; he brought here the inaugural books of the artistic specialties, he was the first president of the Provincial Committee of the Union of Writers and Artists of Cuba (Uneac) for these premises, the first internationalist musician here and he led the popular masses as district delegate until he became, defending the culture, a deputy to the Parliament.
When I meet, as I pass by, those who try to live from culture and not for it, as an act of faith, I think of men like Cristino. Because he, one of Nanito's nine children (five of whom, by the way, were musicians and are already in the generation of great-grandchildren following in their footsteps), never had an easy life.
He always knew that this would be his thing; a little taste as a boy and a lot of it, because Nanito was a "trecero" and the days went by at home and in the Cantarrana neighborhood, where Cristino was born on September 26, marked by a lot of that framework. But it was necessary to live and help the family, for that reason the taste was completed with the works to be an apprentice of blacksmith, and with the office of deliveryman of canteens that he assumed, punctual, at 11:00 am; and even with the one of sweeper of a deposit of cigars, that was his dawn of every day, near 6:30 am.
It is said that, despite the obstacles and thanks to his passion, Cristino became a professional musician when he was only 13 years old in the orchestra of the Marquez Brothers; and yes, he was also one of the first. He once told colleague Miguel Díaz Nápoles, from Radio Victoria, in a long interview: "I wanted to study saxophone, but I don't know, I felt that I would be better at trumpet and I went that way. That instrument was taught to me by Niño Carvajal, it gave me a very big feeling because he had a huge heart, and it was heard in a special way when he played the trumpet.
"I remember that I went to see him almost trembling to see if he wanted to give me lessons and he said yes; and there began this story until one day he commented that he could not teach me anything more, that I already knew everything. So I dedicated myself to passing on what I had learned to my brothers and the boys in the neighborhood.
"Later I studied piano with Coralia Mantilla, then a little violin and guitar. You couldn't live on the trumpet alone, my dad told me that; you have to play, yes, but to provide for your family, to help out at home or wherever you are. So I learned several instruments to earn my living. I studied them to teach as well, always with that vision, I can teach them all. I think I have even created a method for that."
Cristino said that a musician who is respected in Cuba has to know how to play the claves and the bongos because he has to master the rhythms of his native country. He learned with his father: "There are two little sticks there, the claves," he used to say, "but they become difficult if you don't learn them well.
He was in many places, he could have stayed and put down roots; but he bet here, in his small homeland, between cactus and the ardors of his family, imperfect, like all of them, but musically dedicated and committed to transforming. Once he spoke about that and to the question of why, he answered with another one: "If we do not do for Las Tunas, who is going to do; that is up to us."
It is said that at some stage of his life he liked to walk through the neighborhoods and sit on any sidewalk to talk with the neighbors, to watch the people go by, to discover from the steps the dream and even the rhythms. He never disdained any melody and his definitions of reggaeton are still remembered as memorable, and from there he would go to the habanera, to the son and back again, because for him everything was in the music, if it made you move your senses and palpitate.
His work remains, mostly scattered. And it would have been a good gift to the city to take it up again on this 225th anniversary of its foundation. It is not the only thing pending. The truth is that Cristino's work is still here, misplaced. And his is not a delivery that deserves showcases and yes, by far, people's ardor.
Snooping around, and thanks to the efforts of constant inhabitants of this city like Carlos Tamayo, we found his signature in the poem made music Bajo la Lluvia (Under the rain), in the album Inquietud (2001), which includes poems by Gilberto E. Rodríguez; and we learned that he was in charge, together with Ernesto Márquez, of the orchestration and musical direction of the album Por la música de Adentro (For the music inside), years before. Other successes remain among us; among them, his arrangements for the Concert Band, his major mission. But more, much more, needs to be done, and not only in his name.
Personally, I am left with his visits to the block, which took a while lying on the sidewalk greeting every neighbor who passed by; I am left with his courtesy and his blessed way of looking straight ahead and speaking softly, like righteous men.
I remember the day I arrived at his house and he received me at the stroke of 10:00 a.m., wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants, "because there was a visitor" and we talked then, accompanied by a delicious cup of coffee, about the human and the divine. That day, I confirmed his taste for life and for what his life had been.
He told me about his passion for the comparsas of Zabala and Nene Agüero, the carpenter who was his brother-in-law and whom he helped with the arrangements in every carnival. And he told me that he enjoyed it so much that during his years in the Miramar orchestra, he would leave his home with his trumpet, grab inside a conga, go moving with the other one, and like that, but in the middle of the crowd, he would arrive cutting blocks to the site of the presentation to continue dancing and making the people dance.
Las Tunas needs, at any time, many artists like him. And it is not that ours are not worth it, not at all; but it is urgent that the imprint of those who give everything, with fluency for the art, always find space and help to grow right, better. Cristino was a little black man, from a poor neighborhood, who ran away from home to bathe in the waters of the Hórmigo River when he was a boy and gave this region his best desires. People like him also make us transcend.
