Omar Sosa and Quarteto Americanos to Appear at Overture Center: A Musical, Spiritual Nomad
While he lives in Parcelona, Spain, Oscar Sosa considers himself to be a citizen of the world as he spreads joy and happiness through his music.
Part 2 of 2
By Jonathan Gramling
Omar Sosa, the Grammy-nominated Latin jazz performer extraordinaire who brought his Quarteto Americanos to Overture on September 21st, is one cool dude. I called his cell phone two days before our interview because it had a foreign area code and I didn’t know whether my existing service would connect me and I didn’t want to miss the interview. I called thinking I would get his voice mail. But he picked up. I hastily introduced myself and why I was calling. And Sosa, an internationally acclaimed star was cool with it.
Sosa is as much of a philosopher as he is a musician. Sosa has been nominated for Grammy awards — and their equivalent worldwide — many times. And while it is nice to be recognized, he keeps it all in perspective.
“Actually it’s good when the people disagree with your work,” Sosa said. “In this world, we create. When the people recognize you in an authentic way, you are happy. Your work is good. But people don’t think about how important it is when someone disagrees with what you try to present. I have some people who don’t like my music. I remember a journalist in London who said, ‘I hate Omar.’ I said, ‘Okay.’ It’s interesting to listen and a proper journalist says, ‘I hate Omar.’ I said, ‘You know what man? If you think you hate me — because you don’t know me — because my music thrusts you in one dimension and what comes out of you is anger. Because you don’t know me, you can’t hate me. You can’t hate the other person if you don’t know that person. For me, when I was listening to this, I said, ‘This is interesting. How can I put you in a certain state of mind that you start to say something that doesn’t make sense?’ You can’t hate someone if you don’t know that person. How are you going to hate a person through the music? Sometimes
people say, ‘I don’t like his piano player.’ I know a director in Italy who said, ‘Omar, I don’t like the way you play. I’m never going to present you in my club.’ I said, ‘Okay, that’s great. No problem.’ When you can deal with the negative, yourself and your soul are in balance, in equilibrium. In another dimension, it is good to get a nomination. It is good to get some awards. But the reality for me is try to be clear in what you want to do and what you want to present and be very clear in how it is going to send a message.”
And that message that Sosa sends is all about freedom.
“Music is philosophy,” Sosa said. “And that is the philosophy of freedom. Music is everywhere, Music is even in the silence. We may think it is silent, but there is no silence. I think the real silence happens when we die. When you open up the windows, you listen to the trees. You listen to how the breeze moves the leaves of the tree. And this is music. If we look at life as a musical universe, we sometimes can be more in tune with our reality. We can be in tune more with our inner voice because a lot of people try to put themselves in another reality, they live to escape reality. But I think in music, music is everywhere. Music is in the air. This is what I think. When you go out, you feel the sensation. When you listen to the birds, it is a sensation. When you listen to some play some music, it’s a sensation of this person who relates to music through the instrument. It’s a sensation based in his own sensation.”
For Sosa, music is about people and energy. He does not perform to have people watch him. He performs to give and receive the life force that makes us all human.
“For us, when we play music, it’s a ceremony where we are sharing emotion and movement, a spiritual moment,” Sosa said. “We have the opportunity to all be together and really, really have a good time. When I was in Germany, we had all of these people in an open air venue. I saw all of these German people who were familiar with Latin music and this type of group. These people were shouting and dancing. I say, ‘Thank you. Thank you for however you give this energy and for sharing that moment in one beautiful way.’ People were so happy and we were happy and the energy that we created was pure light. This is our mission, I think, to create that light together. People shouldn’t just listen. The thing is we are all together. And we always respond to people’s energy and we give back this energy to people.”
The music and the people whom he meets and who come to hear him play are what is important to him. He truly is a nomad philosophically and materially who is carried around the world by his music.
“With this music, I don’t make any money,” Sosa said. “I live. I pay the bills. But it’s not like it’s what in America people call money. Forget it. But you know, I go back to the previous subject of being a nomad. When you are a nomad, the less that you have in your backpack, the better you are going to live. The lighter you are, the more flexible you are, and the more flexibility you are going to have in your life. And this is the nomadic life. Some people don’t agree with me. My girlfriend says, ‘I don’t know if I agree with you.’ But so far, I am happy trying to make people happy, trying to give positive energy in every place I play and every place I visit and every place I have the opportunity to meet new people and new cultures and traditions.”
As the COVID-19 pandemic closed down the world — and the music concert industry — Sosa felt his humanity and stayed in one place for longer than he can remember. And in feeling his own vulnerability, the creative is what he clung to to weather the pandemic storm.
“Finally I had more than a week in one place,” Sosa reflected. “I was able to grow a lot of music. When people have some fear, the first thing that comes into your mind is, ‘What happens if I die?’ A lot of people passed during COVID. There was a moment when I was sitting in the house of my ex. At the time, I was with her. I was writing music the whole day, 24 hours per day for three days non-stop. And she told me, ‘Omar, I think you have a little problem. You will sleep for 2-3 hours and then go write. You’re not even touching the piano. You are just writing music.’ You can say it was inspiration. But I was thinking it was the fear. I wanted to deliver as much as I could because I didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow. It’s true. We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. I had better live now for the moment because every other day, I got a call that someone had passed. I am 57-years-old. Now is the time when some people think about say, ‘Bye-bye.’ During COVID, I faced the moment when I had the fear come out. And the only way I could fight this fear was writing music. I wrote so much music. And now I am so happy because it’s the music that I play now.”
It is the music of the living.
Next issue: Music is philosophy
