root salad f18 Quique Escamilla
Mexican born, Canada resident, true to his roots. Tony Montague hears about his inspiration.
A
bout fifteen years ago, in his early 20s, Mexican songwriter Quique Escamilla went to an event in his home state of Chiapas
that profoundly changed him and his music – a peaceful protest march and rally by the Zapatista ‘army’ of agrarian land reformers and defenders of indigenous rights. Wear- ing their hallmark balaclava masks to con- ceal identities, they gathered in a park to hear the words of their leader, known as Subcomandante Marcos.
“15,000 of them came in from the mountains, and Marcos delivered a power- ful speech,” Escamilla recalls. “The Mexican government never allowed the Zapatistas’ message to be heard, but a lot of foreign media from around the world were there, filming and recording. Marcos told them: ‘You guys are more important to us than fighters because you help share our word’. That hit home, and made me feel I could do something for this movement and these people without literally fighting.”
Escamilla, a high-energy guitarist, let the encounter simmer in his artist’s conscience
for some years. But after emigrating in 2009 to Canada in search of new opportunities as a musician he started thinking more and more about the Zapatistas and their struggle for indigenous rights. “I wanted to write songs that can share their story. Nobody here in Toronto knew about the Zapatistas. I wanted to bring back that voice, hoping it would have an impact in Canada, especially with regard to indigenous peoples.”
At first gigging solo in and around
Toronto, Escamilla quickly started working with local musicians and for the past five years has toured with his own band – bassist, kit-drummer, and trombonist – which expands to a sextet when he’s on home turf. In 2014 he released 500 Years Of Night, a title that makes his cultural and political stance clear from the start. The ref- erence is to the centuries that have elapsed since the aboriginal peoples of the Americas first came into contact with Europeans, with catastrophic consequences.
The Zapatistas and their allies are not the only major inspiration for Escamilla’s work. As a songwriter he cites Bob Marley,
John Lennon, Brazil’s Caetano Veloso, and Chile’s Violeta Parra. And he has a soft spot for the creators of Mexico’s widely popular and emotion-drenched ranchera song tradi- tion. “With 500 Years Of Night I really want- ed to pay homage to these first influences from my country. So I include the final track Jinete written by José Alfredo Jimenez, and Canción Mixteca by José López Alavéz, changing the time signatures in both cases from three/four to four/four to get out of the usual way of doing those songs.”
A
ll the other tracks on the album are Escamilla originals – a mix of Mexican and Canadian rock, reg- gae, ska, and green-hued folk.
Highlights include Huapango Del Tequila, a dangerously danceable paean to his home- land’s favourite tipple, and the gentle bal- lad Cotorras En La Sima, about a special place in Chiapas that Escamilla used to visit as a child. “It’s a beautiful crater that’s so big and deep there’s a rainforest at its base. It used to be a biosphere reserve, and I write about the animals singing. But sadly that changed. The title means ‘parakeets of the sinkhole’, because they used to come flying in long spirals close to the wall of the crater to reach the top. It was an amazing thing to see. When I was last there just a few birds remained, and that moved me.”
Escamilla and band crossed the Atlantic four times last year, playing in Italy, France, Belgium, Holland, and Spain, culminating in a strong performance at WOMEX in Santia- go de Compostela. And they’ll be back in Europe this summer. The centrepiece of their set is Máscara de Esperanza – a title that translates into English as Mask Of Hope (no make-up involved) – for which Escamilla dons a Zapatista mask, only to remove it dramatically and symbolically at the end.
“That song was the arrowhead in the sense of giving a direction and purpose to the music of 500 Years Of Night. I wrote it in 2011 and finished on the day I had to per- form it in a theatre. I felt ‘since I’m where I am I have the freedom to give a bit of a the- atrical element to my song’. I had no idea how the audience would respond. As the lyrics are in Spanish I felt that the message risked being lost, so right from the start I put on the mask to perform. It really helps – people are curious and they want to know about the significance, kids especially. The mask is one of hope that discrimination and racism will end – and when that happens the Zapatistas say they’re all going to take off their masks.”
quiqueescamilla.com F
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