Israel Berriel González
Cantante, Los Muñequitos de Matanzas.  1937-2020

Israel Berriel, por Caridad Diez Ferrer, 18/12/2020   [English below]

Casi al mediodía de hoy falleció el cantante y compositor Israel Berriel González a causa de un accidente cardiovascular en Jovellanos, Cuba.

Una de las figuras más conocidas de la rumba cubana, integrante de Los Muñequitos de Matanzas, Berriel nació el 21 de septiembre de 1937 en Jovellanos, territorio con gran diversidad de culturas africanas. Es tierra arará, pero también se destaca una fuerte rama lucumí.

Creció en medio de una familia humilde, descendientes de africanos que fueron esclavizados y obligados a trabajar en las plantaciones azucareras de la zona occidental de Cuba. Desde niño participó en fiestas de orishas, bembés, iyesá y hasta makuta, "oyendo los cantos de los viejos," como siempre decía. De sus mayores heredó la sabiduría de las religiones ancestrales africanas, y también la misión de sostener, hasta hoy, el liderazgo del cabildo de Oggun de su familia de origen.

Conoció la dureza de la vida de los pobres y la discriminación racial. Trabajó como limpiabotas sin poder estudiar una profesión hasta después del proceso revolucionario de 1959, cuando se hizo soldador. Por muchos años ejerció ese oficio, primero en Bayamo, y después en Cárdenas.

Tal sería su fuerza interpretativa que un día dos de los grandes rumberos de Cuba, fundadores del Guaguancó Matancero (ya conocidos como Los Muñequitos) se les acercaron para escucharlo. Berriel me contó que:

Estando yo un día en el Parque de la Libertad [ciudad de Matanzas], se me apareció Juan Bosco y Gregorio Díaz, el padre de Agustín, y me dice uno:

<<¿Tú quieres estar en Los Muñequitos?>>

Y le digo: Oye, yo estoy en un grupo.

<<Olvídate de donde tú estás. ¿Tú quieres estar en Los Muñequitos? ¿Qué números tú te sabes de Los Muñequitos?>>

Israel Berriel by Caridad Diez Ferrer, 12/18/2020   translation by Ned Sublette

Around noon today, singer / composer Israel Berriel González died of a heart attack in Jovellanos, Cuba.

One of the best-known figures of Cuban rumba and a member of Los Muñequitos de Matanzas, Berriel was born on September 21, 1937 in Jovellanos, a territory with a great diversity of African cultures. The region is heavily Arará, but with a strong Lucumí branch.

He grew up in a humble family, descendants of Africans who were enslaved and forced to work on the sugar plantations in western Cuba. From childhood he participated in orisha celebrations, bembés, iyesá and even makuta, "hearing the songs of the elders," as he always said. From them he inherited the wisdom of the ancestral African religions, and also the mission of maintaining, until today, the leadership of the Oggún cabildo of his family.

He knew the harshness of the life of the poor and of racial discrimination. He worked as a bootblack, without being able to receive professional training until after the 1959 revolutionary process, when he became a welder. He worked in this trade for years, first in Bayamo, and then in Cárdenas.

His interpretive power as a singer was so strong that one day two of the great Cuban rumberos, founders of Guaguancó Matancero (by then known as the Muñequitos) came to listen to him. He once told me:

One day when I was in the Parque de la Libertad [Matanzas], Juan Bosco and Gregorio Díaz, Agustín's father, came up to me and one of them said:

"Do you want to be in Los Muñequitos?"

And I said, "Hey, I'm in a group."

"Forget where you are now. Do you want to be in Los Muñequitos? What Muñequitos numbers do you know?"

<singing:> I have a friend / she's very faithful . . . I sang that in my high tessitura, up an octave, "María la Nieve." And she has a name, which is very popular . . . they call her María la Nieve . . . What do you think, caballero? And [one of them] said: "He has a good voice. You're already a Muñequito."

<singing:> María la Nieve, naughty girl, says she's afraid, caramba, of sleeping alone.

And he laughed out loud, with that sweet sense of humor that he had.

After several years with the group Afro Cuba de Matanzas, Berriel joined the Muñequitos in 1977. He traveled with Los Muñequitos to many countries, enjoying the highest professional accolades, admired by many musicians and fans of rumba around the world. He would always boast of how many years he had been in the group.

He sang not only rumba, but ritual music as well. He possessed a penetrating voice, with the characteristic nasal timbre of the akpwón, always audible over the drummers. Diosdado Ramos, director general of the Muñequitos, emphasizes that it was Berriel who brought the orisha songs, ​​the bríkamo, and the columbia into the group's repertoire. He was the principal voice of Ito Iban Echu, their album of sacred Yoruba songs recorded in 1995.

Over the years, I had the privilege of talking with him for hours and hours, enjoying his charm [simpatía] and his anecdotes, hearing him sing songs that always seemed to spring from the depths of the back country [monte]. In January 2020 we were able to learn something of the history of his family cabildo when we visited his birthplace in Jovellanos as part of a Postmambo Seminar produced by Ned Sublette, his great friend for thirty years. We saw his pride and confidence in the continuity of their house-temple in the hands of Berriel's son Puchito and the entire family chain, whose younger members are prepared to continue and safeguard their legacy of knowledge.

His brothers and sisters in Los Muñequitos loved him, and today, at this moment, they are singing and playing in his home, where his body lies until the procession leaves at dawn for burial according to his wishes, in his beloved home town.

Speaking to Ned today by phone, he reminded me that in our last encounter with him, in Jovellanos in January, Berriel became montado (possessed). It was a bembé, these things happen. When the santo came down, Berriel was taken out of the dance, then returned in his Oggún suit, with the great warrior's machete, still in a state of possession. The drums heated up, and Oggún manifested with all his strength. It was impressive to see the orisha's power inhabiting that octagenarian, apparently fragile, human body. The owner of iron embraced Ned with such abrupt force that it scared me. "I never saw Berriel again," Ned said to me. "In my last glimpse of him, he was Oggún." Already a god.

-- Caridad Diez Ferrer, December 18, 2020.