Latest news with #CeliaCruz
New York Times
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Two Decades After Her Death, Celia Cruz Lives On for Her Fans
Celia Cruz reigned for decades as the 'Queen of Salsa,' with her signature shout of '¡Azúúúcar!' expressing in Spanish her music's brand of joy and optimism. Twenty-two years after her death, the Cuban powerhouse singer still captivates her fans. The petite woman with a raspy voice wore tight, glittering dresses and colorful wigs and danced in high heels while singing her hit Spanish-language songs such as 'La negra tiene tumbao' and 'Ríe y llora.' Born Oct. 21, 1925, Ms. Cruz began her career in Cuba in 1940 and continued it in exile, producing more than 70 international albums and winning multiple Grammy Awards and Latin Grammys. She moved to New York in 1961, and brought her musical Cuban roots and mixed them with Puerto Rican and later Dominican rhythms, helping to usher the birth of salsa as a popular Latino genre in the United States. 'When people hear me sing,' she said in an interview with The New York Times in 1985, 'I want them to be happy, happy, happy. I don't want them thinking about when there's not any money, or when there's fighting at home. My message is always 'felicidad' — happiness.' Ms. Cruz died in 2003 at her longtime home in Fort Lee, N.J., from complications after a surgery for a brain tumor. She was 77. Following a tour of her coffin in Miami, masses of fans honored her at a public viewing in New York City. More than two decades later, her message still resonates, and she remains relevant in what would have been her birth's centennial this year. She has remained specially visible in Miami, where many Cuban exiles and their children revere her, and the sound of bongo drums are heard in private and public celebrations. 'I see Celia Cruz not only as a legendary performer but as an enduring symbol of cultural memory, resilience and diasporic pride,' Karen S. Veloz, a Cuban American music professor at Florida International University in Miami, said in an interview. 'She stands as a cultural icon whose music traverses generations, political borders and languages.' And beyond Miami, Ms. Cruz has maintained a digital audience too, with more than 6 million monthly listeners on Spotify and her official YouTube channel garnering about 493,000 subscribers. Here are some of the different ways that the grande dame of salsa, also referred to simply as Celia by her fans, has been honored recently. The Celia Bobblehead For a home baseball game on May 14, the Miami Marlins gave away 8,000 bobbleheads of Celia Cruz as part of the organization's annual Cuban Heritage Day. The doll featured a smiling Ms. Cruz holding a microphone and wearing a blue ruffled dress. As part of the ticket package, the team sold commemorative baseball jerseys with her image that were designed by a Miami artist known as Disem305. The team also hosted Lucrecia, a Celia Cruz tribute singer, who threw the ceremonial first pitch and performed her songs. A New Mural in Miami Artwork in the Little Havana neighborhood of Miami captures Ms. Cruz's incandescent smile and her joie de vivre, with two portraits set to a backdrop in teal and pink. 'As an artist and a huge salsa and Celia Cruz fan, this is a huge honor for me,' its creator, Disem305, said of the mural, which measures 11-feet high and 45-feet wide. 'On the right side of the wall, there's a younger Celia with the Freedom Tower standing tall behind her to represent the Cuban community here in Miami,' he said, referring to the Miami landmark where many Cuban refugees arrived in the 1960s and '70s. 'On the left side, there's a portrait of an older, more mature Celia — the one that comes to mind when most of us hear her name — with her huge, contagious smile.' He said he was commissioned by the Marlins to design the mural and the commemorative jersey. A Commemorative Coin Ms. Cruz became the first Afro-Latina to appear on American quarters as part of the 2024 U.S. Mint's American Woman Quarters collection, which honored a diverse group of notable American women in a variety of fields. The U.S. Mint described Ms. Cruz as a 'cultural icon, and one of the most popular Latin artists of the 20th century.' The quarter's tail shows her dazzling smile as she performs in a rumba-style dress. '¡Azúcar!' — which means 'Sugar!' — is inscribed on the right. A Posthumous Award In April, Ms. Cruz was posthumously honored with a 'Legend Award' at the Billboard Latin Women in Music gala in Miami. A montage highlighted her early days in Cuba as she broke gender barriers in a male-dominated industry, eventually elevating Afro-Cuban sounds on global stages. 'Celia Cruz made her life a carnival with a voice that seemed out of this world,' the singer Joya said on the show. The Puerto Rican performers Ivy Queen, La India and Olga Tañón paid tribute to Ms. Cruz by singing a medley of her songs. '¡Qué viva la reina!' La India shouted to the audience and viewers. Celia on Exhibit From January to February, the Museum of Art and Design at Miami Dade College celebrated the singer with the exhibit 'Celia Cruz: Work.' The exhibit, which included videos, posters and Ms. Cruz's wigs and gowns, drew more than 400 people to the Hialeah campus, museum officials said. Pinecrest Gardens, a lush botanical oasis south of Miami, also remembered Ms. Cruz in January with a celebration that included a concert series featuring musicians. As part of the reopening after restoration of the Freedom Tower, which is operated by Miami Dade College, officials will host a Freedom Tower Family Day on Oct. 11 for visitors 'to experience Celia's story' through readings, art activities and performances. 'She is not only a global icon,' María Carla Chicuén, a college spokeswoman, said in a statement, 'but a cherished figure in Miami, whose life and legacy are deeply intertwined with the history of the Freedom Tower.'
Time Out
23-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
'Urban Stomp: Dreams & Defiance on the Dance Floor' explores 200 years of NYC's dance history
The foxtrot, lindy hop, salsa, hustle and vogue all have roots in New York City, whether they were born here, shaped here or popularized in the city's clubs. A new exhibit at Museum of the City of New York turns the museum into a dance floor as it digs into the fascinating history and important role of these dances and more. ' Urban Stomp: Dreams & Defiance on the Dance Floor ' celebrates 200 years of social dance in New York City. It highlights the city's dance floors as sites for connection, creativity and joyful rebellion. You'll get to see everything from 1800s-era ball gowns to Louis Armstrong's trumpet to Celia Cruz's shoes to Big Daddy Kane's outfits. Plus, digital screens throughout the exhibition offer dance lessons—and it's nearly impossible not to move your body when the music starts. Grab your dancing shoes, and go see it now through February 22, 2026 in East Harlem. The exhibition is arranged chronologically, starting with ballroom-style dances, moving into ragtime, swinging into the swing era, dancing into mambo and migration, then focusing on the energy of hip-hop and ball culture. Then, 'Urban Stomp' explores how New Yorkers have remixed dance traditions from around the world, such as cumbia, bhangra, Yiddish dances, Indigenous American dances and dabke. Though the exhibit is organized chronologically as to when the dances started, each dance continues to live on, co-curator Derrick León Washington says. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Museum of the City of New York (@museumofcityny) As a final twist, there's an interactive dance floor where you can choose a record and play music to dance to. Unlike New York City's cabaret law—enacted in 1926 and repealed in 2017—which limited where people could legally dance, this space welcomes everyone to move, watch, record and build community through dance. 'It's a great way to understand New York, a lens to understand New York culture, understand New York history, understand the vibe of New York,' explains Sarah Henry, chief curator and deputy director of the Museum of the City of New York. 'And then New York is a great way to understand the evolution of social dance, how, not only how people create their culture, but also how they forge their identities.' It may be hard to imagine now, but New Yorkers in the 1800s were dancing at every major event—the arrival of dignitaries, charity galas, private balls and even civic events like the opening of the Erie Canal. 'Anything where New Yorkers were celebrating, just like you'd have a parade, you'd also have a ball,' Henry adds. By the turn of the 20th century, new rhythms and new kinds of dance started taking hold, with the roots of ragtime and swing, causing a 'moral panic' among those who wanted to police women's behavior in dance halls, she says. You'll also learn about the Harlem Renaissance, the emergence of Wepa and the power of the cypher. Crystal LaBeija serves as the figurehead for a section about ballroom culture and the genre's associated houses. In the section about hip-hop, you'll get a chance to learn dances like the Bart Simpson and the running man. The exhibit highlights the dialogue between music and dance, with Benny Goodman's clarinet, Miles Davis' trumpet and artifacts related to Billie Holiday. There's something for everyone in the show, which Washington called a space of 'fun, excitement, and joy' as well as learning. 'The dance floor is where the promise of New York is embodied.' 'The dance floor is where the promise of New York is embodied. You get to experience other cultures. You get to meet New Yorkers who you wouldn't have met before. You get to have this feeling of joy and collective celebration that is just palpable,' Henry says. 'This chance to come to this show gives every visitor an opportunity to be a part of that. And then we hope that they will take that knowledge and go out and seek some of these incredible dance opportunities.'
Yahoo
23-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘The Goddess Of Goddesses': Queen Of Salsa Celia Cruz Remembered By Emilio Estefan, La India, Randy Malcom and Goyo
Born one hundred years ago in Havana, Cuba, on October 21, 1925, Celia Cruz sang almost before she could talk. The second oldest of 14 children, she could carry a tune at 10 months old, according to her mother, and as a toddler, sang her youngest siblings to sleep. Those bedside moments were the first stage for the woman who would become the single best-known and most influential female figure in the history of Afro Cuban music. By the time she died in 2003 at age 77, Cruz had over 70 albums to her name and had transfixed generations of fans with her mesmerizing stage presence and a signature, rich, expressive contralto that could turn a single word into a masterpiece of a song. More from Billboard The Unstoppable Natti Natasha Talks Tears, Sacrifices and 'Every Moment I Had to Be Strong Even When I Was Breaking Inside' Deltron 3030 to Play Debut Album in Full for 25th Anniversary Tour Sharon Osbourne Calls for Kneecap's Work Visas to Be Revoked After Coachella Set Cruz was recognized worldwide as much for her extravagant flamboyant outfits, tireless work ethic and colorful wigs as for her trademark cry of 'Azúcar!.' But Cruz possessed, above everything, an extraordinary voice. 'Forget about getting her behind a mic,' Marc Anthony once told Billboard. 'She'll turn anybody out.' Indeed, Cruz adamantly refused to lip-sync, even on live TV shows. 'I can't go out there and pretend,' she told Billboard in 2000. 'In Cuba, I worked with a man named Rodrigo Neira, who was the choreographer of the Tropicana. He wanted a singer to sing and a dancer to dance.' Although Cruz's dancing abilities weren't negligible, her voice was incomparable. Cruz's recorded legacy is a veritable history of Latin music, from her days with Cuba's legendary La Sonora Matancera to her highly experimental and avant garde later fare, which even mixed urban music with her salsa beats. Cruz charted until the day she died, and beyond. More than 20 years after her death, she generated 64 million on-demand official streams in the United States in 2024, according to Luminate. Last year, the U.S. Mint released a commemorative Cruz quarter, the only coin that bears the stamp of a Latin artist. The item joins a list of Cruz memorabilia that includes a stamp, a doll, multiple exhibits, merchandise lines and both a TV series and film in the works, among other projects. As a child, Cruz began singing in amateur contests. Her big break came in 1950, when she was called in to replace the lead singer of the legendary La Sonora Matancera, arguably the best salsa band of all time. Cruz gained international acclaim with La Sonora, with whom she remained for 15 years, eventually marrying lead trumpet player Pedro Knight. Following the Cuban revolution, she settled in New York in 1962 and was never allowed to return to her home country. Cruz's career also flourished stateside, first through her association with Tito Puente's Ticco Records and later with Fania Records. Although Cruz remained a popular and venerated figure — she received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1987 — she gained a new legion of followers in 2000 after signing with Sony Music Latin, a label that gave her a star treatment until the day she died. With Sony Latin, Cruz won three consecutive Latin Grammy Awards in 2000, 2001 and 2002. The secret to her perennial success, she told Billboard, was very basic: 'First of all, I take good care of myself. I rest. Second, I plan my shows well. I always try to shape my repertoire around a particular audience. And finally, I'm always changing my outfits, my look onstage.' But at the core of it was her tireless work ethic, and that voice. After being diagnosed with cancer in 2002, Cruz made a final trip to the recording studio in February 2003. She recorded for two months and died in July. This year, Billboard's Latin Women in Music honors Cruz and her extraordinary life not on the anniversary of her death but in the centennial year of her birth. Cruz will posthumously receive the Legend Award at the gala, which will air April 24 at 9 p.m. ET on Telemundo, and be honored with a musical tribute with performances by Ivy Queen, La India and Olga Tañon. Billboard spoke to four people who had personal ties to Cruz. Here are their recollections, in their own words. Celia was someone who was able to bring our music to this country at a time when women weren't really welcomed in the music industry. When she joined forces with Fania and Johnny Pacheco, she showed the world what true talent was. And she never changed her musical essence or who she was. She was such an example of humility, perseverance, talent — my God. She became family to us. I was just starting out as a producer, and my dream was always to work with her. But I didn't offer because we were just getting started. We had met, but we hadn't really talked much yet. One night, we were playing at the Dupont Plaza, and she asked us to sit at her table. It was like talking to a queen. I remember one time we were performing at the Ovni, and we always played 'Quimbara.' She was in the audience, and she came onstage to sing. Our hearts almost burst out of our chests. I had the honor of producing several albums for her. One day she called me and said, 'I don't have a record label anymore.' And I told her, 'I'm going to send you to Sony.' Thank God I called Tommy [Mottola, who] said, 'Don't even worry about it. We've got to sign her.' She went into Sony with so much respect. They were going to give her the boost she needed. She passed away with six No. 1 hits. At the time, there was resistance because most of the artists selling records were men. She was one of the women who proved to the world that women could make everyone dance. She was such an inspiration for Gloria [Estefan]. I think we can all learn something from her. She and Pedro [Knight] were such humble, kind people who taught us so much. When we were recording, she was so professional. She could almost sing live; she practiced her parts, showed up with humility and was always so proud of her Cuban roots. And the love between her and Pedro… It's rare to work with a couple and see them love each other so much for so many years, being such simple, good people with so much talent. She was my great teacher. She always remembered to send birthday cards to everyone. Those little thoughtful gestures. She was like a sister to Gloria. She'd come over to eat at our house and was so funny. She'd wash Pedro's shirts and iron them when they were on tour. I'll never forget when I produced the Latin Grammys [for CBS on 2000] — she had terrible knee pain but got up to sing 'Quimbara' with Ricky [Martin] anyway. No one could tell what she was going through. One day she came to us and said, 'I got the big C.' I had no idea what she meant. She called me to help arrange her burial. She told me, 'I want every fan I have to be able to say goodbye to me.' She wasn't just loved by Cubans — she was loved by the whole world. She left me one of her dresses, shoes and wig as a thank you, along with a beautiful note for me and Gloria. In a way, I feel at peace knowing I was able to help a woman like her, that I could get her signed to Sony. In these times we're living in, when one person shines, we all shine. And she made all of us shine. I met Celia in 1988 through important people in her life. Her nephew was a big fan of mine and he would go see me at the Palladium. He told me he was Celia Cruz's nephew and we didn't believe him. Celia was already a legend. We listened to her music and all the Afro Yoruba-ness around her was really interesting. And of course we all loved La Sonora Matancera. One day, she sent a message through him, saying, 'Muchas benidiciones en tu show.' ('Many blessings on your show.') Then in 1990, a year before I decided to cross over from dance to salsa tropical, I was already collaborating with Tito Puente and Tito arranged for us to meet. We all went to dinner. When I met her, it felt as if we were already family. We spoke about her music, about her. She said she always felt she had a natural ability to sing music with a lot of rhythm. She said, 'One thing I notice about you is you study a lot of jazz, but you have a lot of soul. I'd like you to cross over from dance music and do a salsa album.' We sang with prerecorded TV tracks then, and she said, 'You need to be up there singing with a live band.' She set up a meeting with Ralph Mercado [founder and president of RMM Records, to which Cruz was signed at the time] and said, 'Hey, I want you to sign her.' We were very close. We talked a lot about music, about the hard labor of a woman. We talked about believing in ourselves, being professional and giving 100% to the music. I found it to be very empowering. She used to say, 'Yo soy tu madrina musical ['I'm your music godmother],' and she wanted to officially be my godmother. I hadn't had my first communion, and I needed to be baptized. She baptized me on Feb. 14, which is the day of friendship and love, and it brought a lot of light into my life, which I needed. I came from a very dysfunctional family, but a very praying family. God was always in our lives. I think that's why it meant so much to me to be baptized with Celia and [husband] Pedro Knight [by my side], and because it meant she would always be in my life. And she was. She was really cute and she wrote telegrams. She had an AT&T calling card and boy, did she use it to the fullest. She called from the airport, when she landed, when she was in her room. Because she was so spiritual, she felt she needed to pray with her goddaughter; that was me. She always prayed before her show. We would hold hands and then we'd go up onstage with her. We toured together. Everywhere she traveled she was the goddess of the goddesses. She would walk in first, everybody was waiting for her, and we were like little ducks. All of us, me, Marc [Anthony], Cheo [Feliciano], Oscar [D'León], we were all behind her going to all these beautiful places in Europe. She really believed in us. She thought we were coming with talent to bring light to salsa tropical. Celia was always an icon, a living legend. She had a lot of vocal control and a beautiful vibrato. Pedro helped her a lot. He quit the trumpet to make sure she was ready to get on that stage and sing her heart out. He was a great partner. She was very lucky to have him. In the studio she was a master of great ideas. I gave her a lot of energy, and it was great to have her there with me. She always told me that one of the things she liked about me was that she saw my talent and that I didn't have to wear little outfits. We're here as women, as talented women. She would say, 'Sabes porqué he tenido exito? Porque yo vendo talento, no vendo sexo.' ('You know why I've been successful? Because I sell talent, not sex.') Now, I see what she meant. It's a male-dominated world, and she wanted respect. She liked being on the road. She liked to take her music to different markets, and she loved shopping. Shopping and music, forget about it. Y su cafecito con su azucar. She always tried to encourage the new generation by being positive and working hard. She spoke about the perseverance of hard work, professionalism. Always record, arrive early and have a great orchestra behind you. And all that you get, you give back. The Gente De Zona member on the group recording 'Celia,' which blends two Cruz hits using her original vocals. I knew Celia's work because I studied music in Cuba, but I never got the chance to meet her in person. Since Celia was banned in Cuba, you couldn't hear her on the radio or see her on TV. Celia, Willy Chirino, all those artists were prohibited. She was always a defender of freedom. After recording 'La Gonzadera,' we were trying to figure out how we could use her vocals from 'La Negra Tiene Tumbao' in a song. Her digital session recordings from her last recordings were nowhere to be found, but after 10 years of searching with Omer [Perdillo, her manager], we finally found them. What we did was mix two songs together, closing it out with 'La Negra Tiene Tumbao.' But for us, using her voice — can you imagine? As a kid, I'd hear some of her stuff with my dad through videos that had been leaked. Cuba only had two TV channels, and there was a concert she did, I think in Africa, that somehow got through. People had recorded it and we'd watch it. For us, it was such a point of pride. A Cuban woman who was outside of Cuba, yet so huge in the music world — it seemed impossible to reach that level. When I was little, people told me she was a singer who wasn't allowed in Cuba. When my dad heard the song, he was blown away. He was like, 'How did you pull this off?' And I told him, 'Dad, they gave me permission.' This whole story is so nostalgic for every Cuban, given the political situation. Everything feels so deep. In our country, there's so much music, so much art, but it dies there. It's heartbreaking to see so many artists who don't get the chance to share their work. I'm left with this sense of longing because I wasn't able to fully experience her work. And she has incredible songs. Celia was always ahead of the game when it came to music. She was someone who never let herself fall behind. I met Celia because my dad and an uncle promoted shows in Colombia and they brought José Alberto 'El Canario' and Celia together to Buenaventura, Quibdó, and a show in Tuluá that didn't end up happening. But I traveled with her on the same bus from Buenaventura to Tuluá, and I got the chance to talk with her. She said something to my mom about me, and my mom made me sing. I was about 13 or 14 years old. I'd seen her on TV, but my dad collected albums and my mom was a huge fan of Celia. I've always been really close to my mom, and in many moments of her life, Celia's music was her soundtrack. 'Ritmo, Tambor y Flores' was my first real connection to Celia. One of my aunts made me learn the song, and I sang it the first time I performed in a parade in Condoto. I was about 9 years old, and at my fifth-grade graduation, 'Ritmo, Tambor y Flores' was already part of my repertoire. That's the song I sang to her on the bus. I went to see her in Buenaventura first. She was wearing white leggings, a shiny top and a short, white wig and she looked amazing. Like, wow — it wasn't often you saw women who could pull off a look like that. I saw music as something totally normal because my mom sang, my uncle brought artists and I'd go to the studios of Grupo Niche. I felt like I was part of the scene. So when they said, 'Now we're heading to Tuluá on the bus with Celia and 'El Canario,' it felt normal. She was traveling with her husband and it was a big, comfy bus. And she said, 'What a beautiful little girl. She has something special.' My mom told me to sing 'Ritmo, Tambor y Flores.' She started singing the chorus, and I sang the second part because I was feeling a little shy. She said, 'Keep going, keep going.' And we all started singing together. Imagine that — my skin still tingles thinking about it. It feels like such a normal story, but honestly, it's not that normal. Especially because kids are usually pretty sheltered at that age. Later, when I was 15, I saw her again, and by then, she looked older, and I was so impressed by the respect people had for her and how she kept thriving as an artist, even as someone who was already so established. She was always in the big leagues. What's happening now isn't possible without talking about her. Her story needs to be told. The third annual Billboard Latin Women in Music special will air live at 9 p.m. ET / 8 p.m. CT on Thursday, April 24 exclusively on Telemundo, Universo, Peacock and the Telemundo app and throughout Latin America and the Caribbean on Telemundo Internacional. Read Billboard's Latin Women In Music 2025 executive list here. Best of Billboard Chart Rewind: In 1989, New Kids on the Block Were 'Hangin' Tough' at No. 1 Janet Jackson's Biggest Billboard Hot 100 Hits H.E.R. & Chris Brown 'Come Through' to No. 1 on Adult R&B Airplay Chart
Yahoo
23-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Billboard Latin Women in Music 2025: How to Watch, Performers & Presenters
On April 24, the third annual Billboard Latin Women in Music will honor Anitta, Belinda, Celia Cruz, Chiquis, Ha*Ash, Olga Tañón, Natti Natasha and Selena Gomez with special awards, celebrating these groundbreaking women who are shaping the future of Latin music. The two-hour Latin Women in Music special, which will air live on Telemundo at 9 p.m. ET, will be hosted by 2024 Lifetime Achievement honoree Ana Bárbara, who will also be performing alongside Yahritza y Su Esencia on Thursday. As previously announced, Ivy Queen, La India and Tañón will perform a memorable tribute of Celia Cruz's most iconic hits. The salsa star would've have celebrated her centennial this year. More from Billboard Selena Gomez to Be Honored as Woman of the Year at Billboard Latin Women in Music Deltron 3030 to Play Debut Album in Full for 25th Anniversary Tour Sharon Osbourne Calls for Kneecap's Work Visas to Be Revoked After Coachella Set Throughout the night, artists such as Adriel Favela, Amandititita, Eddy Herrera, Goyo, Lele Pons, Luis Fonsi and Aleyda Ortiz will present the night's awards and recognitions to the celebrated women. This year's honorees and honors are Anitta (Vanguard Award), Belinda (Evolution Award), Celia Cruz (Legend Award), Chiquis (Impact Award), Ha*Ash (Unbreakable Award), Natti Natasha (Unstoppable Artist), Olga Tañón (Lifetime Achievement Award) and Selena Gomez (Woman of the Year). The 2025 Billboard Latin Women in Music special will air live on Thursday, April 24, at 9 p.m. ET/8 p.m. Central, exclusively on Telemundo, Universo, Peacock and the Telemundo App, and throughout Latin America and the Caribbean on Telemundo Internacional. Ana Bárbara Yahritza y Su Esencia La India Ivy Queen Olga Tañón Adriel Favela Amandititita Eddy Herrera Goyo Lele Pons Luis Fonsi Aleyda Ortiz Read Billboard's Latin Women In Music 2025 Executive List . Best of Billboard Chart Rewind: In 1989, New Kids on the Block Were 'Hangin' Tough' at No. 1 Janet Jackson's Biggest Billboard Hot 100 Hits H.E.R. & Chris Brown 'Come Through' to No. 1 on Adult R&B Airplay Chart
The Guardian
18-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘She had no interest in the comfort zone': celebrating the centenary of Celia Cruz, Cuba's Queen of Salsa
On 13 November 1973, at Roberto Clemente Coliseum in Puerto Rico, Celia Cruz took to the stage in a bejewelled, psychedelic blue dress and vast afro, saluting the 12,500-capacity arena with her trademark rallying cry: 'Azucar!' – sugar. The Cuban singer had been a star for more than two decades by this point, but this concert marked a rebirth. Backed by the Fania All-Stars, the in-house orquesta of the label that brought salsa to the US, Cruz performed Bemba Colorá. Devotees have variously decoded its lyric and 'big red lips' metaphor as a repudiation of a neighbourhood gossip, a commentary on anti-Black racism or an anthem for female empowerment. Stretched out to a righteous 12-minute call-and-response in Puerto Rico, she recast the song as a cry of anguish over her exile from her homeland, adding lines like 'Yo como el pájaro quiero / mi libertad recobrar' ('Like the bird / I want to regain my freedom') that channelled the pain of the dispossessed. Whether exiles themselves or simply economic migrants, many in the concert audience – just like many in her fanbase across the Latin American diaspora – sensed the sadness beneath her words, the vulnerability within the strength. They crowned her the Queen of Salsa. 'Celia had power in a male-dominated world, she changed the game,' says Cuban singer Daymé Arocena. 'She had no interest in the comfort zone.' Cruz's influence is still keenly felt today in contemporary stars such as Cardi B, who saluted her in the video for I Like It and arrived at last year's Met Gala dressed like her; UK dance star Barry Can't Swim rewired Cruz's 1974 song Quimbara for his own 2024 mega-banger Kimbara. And salsa, the music Cruz helped pioneer, is enjoying a renaissance, in the form of smash hits such as Bad Bunny's Baile Inolvidable and Rauw Alejandro's Tú con Él. Cruz was perhaps the greatest Latin American icon of her era, dominating the Latin music charts, decorating her walls with gold records, three US Grammys and four Latin Grammys – alongside prizes from Billboard, the Smithsonian Institution and more – and receiving the keys to New York, Los Angeles, Miami and many other US cities. 'I have lots of keys,' she later lamented, 'but they don't open any doors.' Last year, Cruz also became the first Afro-Latina to appear on the US 25-cent coin, with Ventris Gibson, then director of the US Mint, declaring the singer 'a trailblazer in music and civil rights'. Cruz's centenary will be celebrated this year with a series of reissues, alongside events and exhibitions across the US. Cruz had never planned on being a performer; her childhood ambitions were to be 'a mother, a teacher, a housewife', she once said. Nevertheless, she triumphed at talent shows, thrived at Havana's National Conservatory of Music and, in 1950, joined La Sonora Matancera, a long-running band that specialised in son cubano, guaguancó and chá-chá-chá, the rhythms that later coalesced into salsa. Over the next decade, they became leading lights of the golden age of Cuban music. Then Castro took power. Keenly understanding the power of radio, Castro removed the dance music La Sonora Matancera specialised in from the airwaves, replacing it with propaganda messages. He admired Cruz, however – he would clean his gun to her song Burundanga in the days before the revolution – but these feelings were not reciprocated. Castro would send agents to her house, requesting she perform at his official events; Cruz hid in a closet, sending her brother to say she wasn't home. As work for La Sonora Matancera dwindled under Cuba's new regime, in June 1960 they left Havana for a gig in Mexico; en route, bandleader Rogelio Martinez told his musicians: 'This is a one-way flight.' They never returned, resettling in the US in 1961; Pedro Knight, the band's trumpeter and later Cruz's husband, reasoned that if they had remained in Cuba, 'we would have ended up like some of our compatriots who have no way of getting out'. But exile wore heavily upon Cruz, who never saw her parents again. 'I don't have a mother, a father, I don't have a country,' she mourned 25 years after fleeing Havana. 'I only have Pedro.' Outwardly, however, she generally chose to radiate joy: 'My message is always felicidad – happiness.' In 1965, now living in New York, Cruz went solo, backed by the orchestra of Spanish Harlem's Tito Puente. She became ever more successful, though the ingrained racism in the US was a culture-shock for this proud Afro-Cuban. 'Celia celebrated her African roots,' says Angélique Kidjo, the Benin-born singer, five-time Grammy winner and a friend and superfan of Cruz. 'She grew up singing Yoruba songs – her phrasing is embedded in the African tradition. But the white Cubans did not want her to succeed, nor to be associated with her. And her answer to that was: 'Azucar!'' Cruz first coined the catchphrase when a waiter in Miami asked if she wanted sugar in her black coffee. Explains Kidjo: 'She was saying [to white Cubans]: 'You may not like it, but you are able to drink coffee due to my ancestors, with the sugar you add. I'm the one who brings flavour to everything you do.'' By the 1970s, Latin music was thriving in the US in the form of salsa, championed by the fledgling Fania Records. 'Salsa was this melting pot of Afro-Cuban music, mixed with Puerto Rican and other roots rhythms,' says Bruce McIntosh, vice-president at Craft Latino, the label putting out the centenary reissues. 'It was basically created in New York by Fania and its musicians.' The label cultivated a loyal following of listeners who, McIntosh says, 'longed for the homeland, and this music, like Latin food and culture, fed that longing'. Fania's initial audience was overwhelmingly male, however. 'Salsa was the street music of its time – it was hip-hop before hip-hop, full of urban folklore and very male-oriented,' McIntosh says. But Johnny Pacheco, the composer and bandleader who founded the label, was in love with Cruz's voice and her spirit, and signed her. 'Celia had been a star since the 50s, and she brought a bit of professionalism to Fania,' says McIntosh. 'She also brought a whole new demographic, broadening the scope. When she arrived, there were basically no other women singing salsa. After Celia, women were more drawn to it.' And Cruz was more than able to hold her own against Fania's young bucks. On Quimbara from 1974's Celia & Johnny, her first smash-hit collaboration with Pacheco, Kidjo says 'her voice was like a percussive instrument, giving you the beat so you can dance salsa'. In 1974, Cruz accompanied the Fania All-Stars when they performed a festival in Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo) to coincide with Muhammad Ali and George Foreman's Rumble in the Jungle bout. 'Salsa was huge in Africa, especially west Africa,' says Kidjo, who saw Cruz perform in Benin in her teens. 'If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed a woman could lead a salsa band. The musicians were performing for this woman – she conducted them without even raising a finger. It was a defining moment for me.' Sign up to Sleeve Notes Get music news, bold reviews and unexpected extras. Every genre, every era, every week after newsletter promotion Further collaborations with Pacheco followed, plus albums with Fania legends Ray Barretto and Willie Colón. It solidified Queen Celia's reign, which continued until her death in 2003. 'She had hits in the 90s and the 00s,' marvels McIntosh. 'She was an ambassador for the music and the culture worldwide.' Back in Cuba, however, her music was banned, with Cruz heading an unofficial (but effective) blacklist of artists who had spoken out against Castro's regime or left the island after he took power. The ban was not overturned until 2012, four years before Castro's death, and this was done quietly and never officially acknowledged. 'I'd never heard of Celia until I arrived in the US and NPR said I sounded like her,' says Daymé Arocena. 'We weren't allowed to listen to her music.' When she researched Cruz, however, Arocena realised she had grown up mere blocks from her childhood home, and drew inspiration from her music. 'Bemba Colorá has become an empowering song for me. They tell Black women not to wear red lipstick, that it makes our lips look bigger, and it's a way of oppressing us. So every time I wear red lipstick on stage, I think of that song.' Aymée Nuviola, another Cuban singer, also knew nothing of Cruz when she heard the comparison while touring abroad. 'People would tell me I was a bad Cuban for not knowing Celia!' she laughs. When she finally heard Cruz's records, she recognised the melodies from pregóns – songs sung by street vendors in Cuba – that she had heard as a child. Castro's ban couldn't erase Cruz from Cuba's folk-memory. Nuviola finally saw Cruz perform in Mexico, late in her career. 'She only had to say, 'Azucar!' and everyone screamed and I began to cry. She was magical.' In 2015, Nuviola was cast as Cruz in the Colombian TV drama Celia, which she describes as 'a great honour. I absorbed how she moved her hands, how she walked, how she sang.' She struggled with Cruz's trademark long fingernails – 'I'm a pianist!' – but Nuviola understood the central tragedy of Cruz's life, having also left Cuba early in her career. 'Celia had to fight so hard for her life – she had to leave Cuba, and she loved Cuba so, so much.' Later this year, Nuviola will release a duet, adding her vocals to Cruz's original track Ríe y Llora (Laugh and Cry). 'It's from Celia's final album,' says Nuviola, 'a very emotional album called Regalo del Alma. The title means 'a gift from my soul'. She gave so much.' Kidjo, meanwhile, befriended Cruz in her later years, and remembers 'sitting together at the Grammys, cracking up with laughter – she called me 'hermana Africana', her sister from Africa.' Kidjo later recorded Afrobeat interpretations of Cruz's music for her 2019 album Celia, celebrating the star whose example had been so foundational. 'When I saw her perform when I was a teenager, she became everything I wanted to be,' she says. 'This ball of smiling and joy and happiness on stage, like, 'Nothing's gonna stop me, this is where I want to be. This is what I have to give to the world.' Celia didn't choose to be born in Cuba, she didn't ask to be a descendant of slaves. But African music and spirit has survived through her determination to become whoever she wanted to be.' Reissues of Son Con Guaguancó, Tremendo Cache and Only They Could Have Made This Album are out now. Celia y Willie is released 6 June
