The most powerful act at Napa's La Onda festival? It's not on the main stage

San Francisco Chronicle​

2 days ago

One of the most important performances at La Onda in Napa doesn't take place on any of the big stages. It isn't projected on jumbo screens, doesn't feature any dazzling pyrotechnics or conclude with an audience-requested encore.
In fact, for the tens-of-thousands at the Napa Valley Expo on Saturday and Sunday May 31-June 1, for the second annual Latin music festival, it may happen quietly, without them ever noticing. Yet, it may arguably be the most essential act of the weekend.
In the margins of the two-day festival's footprint, Callpuli Anahuak, a Northern California-based Aztec danza group, gathered in a circle and offered ancestral drumming and prayer. No microphones. No spotlights. Just feet against soil.
Carlos Romero, who leads the group and has been dancing for Callpuli Anahuak for more than 20 years, describes it plainly: 'We're ceremonial.'
'It's a spiritual journey from our ancestors, from our people. When we bring ceremony, it feels like everybody connects — every culture,' he went on. 'I feel like every human being needs that.'
Romero and his multi-generational dance and ceremony cohort returned after a stirring performance at La Onda's inaugural year, one that stood in quieter contrast to the festival's usual programming. Their presence, however, isn't just some cultural veneer for La Onda. According to Romero, to the organizers' credit, that was never the intention when they first approached them for the festival's inaugural year in 2024.
But given the current political backdrop, all four of Callpuli Anahuak's La Onda performances (both days at 1:45 and 4:45 p.m. on the field by the Verizon Stage) may feel like a spiritual intervention, arriving at a moment when Latinx identity is being simultaneously marketed, marginalized and persecuted.
It certainly served as a respite for LIlian Zepeda. A Napa native, she's Mexican and African American; watching her fellow festivalgoers cheer on the group on Saturday afternoon, she said, made her feel more at peace amid the current political climate.
'It feels like an acceptance in this country,' Zepeda said, adding that despite 'what's going on, (we're) still proud of who we are.'
Perhaps inadvertent, but that's the kind of chord La Onda festival organizers hit this year.
'In these challenging times, it's gratifying to know that these Callpuli Anahuak ceremonial performances are resonating with our attendees,' Dave Graham, a partner at BottleRock Napa Valley, which also produces La Onda, told the Chronicle.
The fear that lives just outside the gates of La Onda is not imagined. In the Napa Valley and greater Bay Area, anxiety has risen among the immigrant community under the Trump administration following renewed federal threats of mass deportations. It feels all the more significant since Grupo Firme — one of the most prominent and highly anticipated acts on La Onda's lineup — was forced to withdraw from the festival due to delayed visa approvals.
In that context, Romero sees Callpuli Anahuak's performance not just as entertainment but a form of resistance.
'We're being attacked,' said Romero, who was born in Mexico and raised in Sonoma County. But he quickly added, 'our people never give up. We work all the hard jobs. We're the backbone of this country.'
Standing on the field of the region's premier Latin music festival he also notes that Callpuli Anahuak isn't dancing this weekend in direct protest. They dance in defiance of invisibility.
'We forget to be present,' Romero said. 'We forget to be in the moment, and I think ceremony helps you with that. It reminds you that you're here, right now, and you're breathing and that's a blessing.'
And presence, right now, is power.
Julio Lara is a freelance writer.