Words: Rafe Llewellyn, Images: Press
The sun is sitting patiently a-top one of the Barbican’s many towers as it prepares to host Eliades Ochoa as the opening act to Como No!’s La Linea festival. Having come from Bristol that afternoon and being admittedly rather ignorant to what London had to offer and where else I could go, I made my way to The Barbican, straight off the bus.
I was pleasantly surprised though, by the oasis I found nestled within the Barbican’s brutalist metropolis. It’s here I chose to gather my bearings before La Linea’s first instalment of Latin prowess was due to kick off that evening.
Casa Nuestra, the support for the evening, perfectly summed up the LaLinea passion for balancing New and Old. Hailing from Liverpool, the collective tell the audience that they were formed after Niall (guitar) was left without a home in 2023. Forced to stay on the sofa of fellow band member, Emiliano, the pair began jamming together, eventually falling on Latin music. It stuck. The band added Luca before finally completing the group, adding vocalist Maria.
Authentic Latin elements alongside a little bit of scouse grit and self-professed silliness combined with gorgeous vocals assimilate to form a beautifully constructed open to the festival.
Como No! have previously hosted Ochoa in 1994, a performance that may be credited to have led to his inclusion in the cultural phenomena that was Buena Vista Social Club, a highlight period of an illustrious career. Though now a veteran, his glinting smile and commanding presence ensures he remains a highly commended performer.
A decadent discography, many of Ochoa’s notable tracks were recognisable enough to sing to for even the non-Spanish speaking audience. ‘Chan Chan’ and ‘El Cuarto de Tula’ need no introduction regardless of Ochoa’s admittance that ‘me English no good’. Both tracks have pioneered a generation of appreciation for Cuban music through the vehicle of Buena Vista Social Club.
A slightly unpredictable set, Ochoa kept the audience guessing. In one instance, he disappeared leaving the saxophonist to pull together the audience for a rendition of ‘Quizas, Quizas’ which the audience dutifully indulged in by singing back to the musicians. Ochoa reappeared but soon was left with no guitar cable.
Bashful, his pianist began to signal for help but when calls for technician, José were left unheard, it looked like we could be in for a few moments of lull to the new energy in the room from the singalong. Taking the technical fault on the chin, chants for Jose chimed up from the stalls of the Barbican, who soon rose out of the audience to claim his space on the stage.
With the problem not fixed, the saxophonist ushered the crowd to their feet, enticing the audience into tentative movement. Initial shyness wore off however and stomping and clapping ensued alongside Ochoa’s return to the fore. The final twenty minutes were something special, couples swayed across the aisles; The barbican rose from the stalls. Bowing out with a tip of his cowboy hat, Ochoa waved goodbye to his sold out adoring audience in what will be remembered as one of LaLinea’s all time greatest performances.
