Twice, history called upon the life of Longina O' Farrill. They were disparate in nature, but one led to the other. In the interweaving of memories, where nothing is foreign, history, legend and song emerged.
Singing lullabies to a centaur
The beautiful mulatto Longina had no idea about her first contact with history until many years later. At the beginning of the 20th century, one of the most important tailors in Havana hired her as a wet nurse for his children. The children's mother was Irish and spoke to her children in English. It was with the nanny that Nicanor and Cecilio began to learn Spanish.
When they went to the United States, Longina also accompanied them. Since the father was married, the children were registered with the mother's surname. The oldest, who was called Lamy, was registered as Nicanor McPartland, but Cuban history knows him as Julio Antonio Mella.
In a biography of Mella it is said that the tailor Nicanor Mella hired “the mulatto Longina O' Farrill, whose extraordinary beauty had inspired the composer Manuel Corona a love song that he titled Longina.
Capital error. When Manuel Corona composed Longina, Mella was 15 years old and had not needed a wet nurse for a long time.
You already know the second visit in history to Longina O' Farrill: when Manuel Corona dedicated the song to her that, since then, has not stopped winning hearts.
In the mysterious language of your eyes/ there is a theme that highlights sensitivity/ in the sensual lines of your beautiful body/ The curves that are admired awaken illusion…
Although independent in nature, both events ended up being related. If it had not been for the extraordinary fame of the musical piece, Mella's biographers would not have recorded the name of his handler or nanny, as they called her then. Even spreading errors like the ones we mentioned before.
The love that did not exist
Those who knew her in her dazzling youth left a record of her curves and the illusions that Longina O' Farrill's body awakened. Although many rumors have been made about the possible relationship between the author of the song and the woman who is the object of his inspiration, everything seems to be more hope of the romantic spirit than reality.
The piece was a commission, at least that is how María Teresa Vera conveyed it to Lino Betancourt and he to me in a tasty “exchange of details.” As is known, the song was premiered on October 15, 1918, not in a theater, but in the humble lot where Teté lived on 201 San Lázaro Street, between Lealtad and Escobar, which for the consolation of the poor was called La Maravilla.
Seductive longina like a spring flower
In a room of the La Maravilla lot there were several singers, as those who today we call troubadours were called. Nothing special. One of those usual “downloads” that you don't know when they go from trivial conversation to a walk of songs.
Among the gatherings that afternoon was one of Teté's closest friends and of whom she considered herself a disciple: Manuel Corona (Caibarién, 1880-Havana, 1950).
The alcohol had already warmed up the privileged vocal cords. The bottle already seemed like a dry dock when one of those scenes of contrasts that Carpentier pointed out in our story as the wonderful reality took place in the same space.
At the entrance to the neighborhood full of poor blacks, whites and mulattoes, a luxurious car stopped. The woman who was picking up clothes from the clothesline delayed her task so she could see better. Several eyes peeked out from the always open doors of the other rooms of the barracks.
A man said “he is the politician” and remained silent when the man in question extended his hand and a tribute from nature in the form of a woman emerged from the car. It was at that moment that the observer's wife closed the door to the room.
The politician and the young woman crossed the common area of the lot. The doves took flight and the guitars froze. However, Teté and several of his friends did know who that man was, but not the young woman.
A novel character
A few weeks before, Armando André Alvarado, commander of the Liberation Army, a prominent figure of the Conservative Party in power, had been named director of the Subsistence Board of the Government of Mario García Menocal.
As a trophy to display, he had Longina O' Farrill on his arm. The gatherings saw the heavens open, because the illustrious visitor, a lover of music and patron of troubadours, would contribute to eliminating the threat of alcoholic drought.
The guitar as a sword
When he didn't have any duel or political mess or business deal up his sleeve, Armando André enjoyed the bohemian life. That was the reason for his arrival that afternoon to the humble home of María Teresa Vera.
Armando André provided more alcohol stimulation and the meeting continued. No brakes or clocks. At the farewell, the patron made the invitation that motivated the historic event: “Corona, why don't you dedicate one of your songs to the girl?”
For Manuel Corona, it was not a difficult request. But, remembering the day of the saint of Teté and the economic “help” that they would undoubtedly receive from the grateful politician, he said: “Come back on the 15th [day of the saint of María Teresa] and you will hear it,”
And with it, he asked the girl's name. “Longina,” was the response. “Well, the song will be called Longina,” he said.
The mystery of transcending
Transcendence is always a mystery. Why is a good work only valued by posterity and others are born cradled by success?
On October 15, 1918, in the humble room of a solar, Longina was heard for the first time. The witnesses were moved by its beauty, but they did not imagine that they were living a historic moment. The popular imagination wove legends between the author and the reason for his inspiration.
There is in the song a delicate touch of ivory miniature, of insinuations that stimulate the erotic game of the imagination.
Now that fashion reveals even underwear, there is little left to imagine. However, the mystery of Longina lies in the fact that, despite the aggressive manner in the musical lyrics surrounding us, this century-old song continues to seduce. How many times, to the rhythm of their slow loving movements, did the last point of the besieged fortress fall!
What happened to the characters in this story?
Tete
María Teresa Vera was born with a jumping elf. Granddaughter of slaves, daughter of the cook and without a recognized father. As Marta Valdés wrote, in a few years she jumped from “a singing girl whom everyone claimed at parties among friends” to a lady of Cuban trova. Without lace, or glitter, with careless diction that did not delimit between the accents of the streets and the recording studios. He imposed a style.
María Teresa Vera, lady of the Cuban trova.
We can listen to her recordings, distant from the delicacies of current technology, and admire her vocal faculties, but we will not be able to reconstruct the mystery of the emotion of those who heard her sing live.
As Frank Domínguez, another great of Cuban song, stated, “what strength to say things with his guitar like a sword.” With that sword she became master of bohemia. She escaped from the song because she was the song. In 1962 he suffered a stroke and died three years later.
Armando André: Escaped from an adventure novel
The historian Rolando Rodríguez described him as a shady character. There is no political controversy of the first quarter of the 20th century in which, in one way or another, Commander Armando André Alvarado (1872-1925) does not appear. He is one of those characters who escape from an adventure and picaresque novel.
Arrested as a conspirator against the colonial power, “for a head” he saved his own. Thanks to having North American citizenship, he was deported. He returned to Cuba with important correspondence for Máximo Gómez. But, in addition to the documents, he brought the idea of blowing up the Palace of the Captains General with Weyler inside.
In the end, on April 28, 1896, he placed the explosive in a bathroom on the ground floor of the building. The bomb caused some damage and two minor injuries, but Weyler only suffered shock.
Together with other workers, he placed explosive charges in other places in the city until most of the conspirators were arrested. Armando Andrés was able to escape and joined the Liberation Army, ending the war as a commander. His love for dynamite has led some to write that he was an anarchist. He was interested in the anarchists' methods of action, but not their ideology.
Another detail, none of the bombs that exploded in Havana achieved their objective. They mobilized the colonial authorities and the inhabitants of the city. The war was within the city. It was the moment when Antonio Maceo fought successfully in Pinar del Río, at the gates of the capital. But lack of specialized knowledge and lack of money led them to acquire low-explosive dynamite.
As director of the newspaper El Día, he practiced bellicose journalism. He attacked his opponents both politically and personally. This led him to have more duels than D'Artagnan and, finally, to death.
Armando André, the fortuitous link for the meeting of Corona and Longina, had the unambitious privilege of being a victim of the first murder ordered by Gerardo Machado as president of the Republic. In the early morning of August 20, 1925, two hitmen killed him while he was trying to open the door of his house on Concordia Street.
Seductive Longina
Longina O' Farrill ended up a prisoner of her oblique celebrity. As the years passed, whoever was a pretentious young mulatto, with a “body fringed with beauty” and “a stately walk,” as the song says, only came out of her anonymity when curiosity led her to see the woman who inspired so much. beautiful composition.
For this reason, before dying she asked to be buried next to Manuel Corona, the man who had made her famous. She died in a nursing home and was buried in Havana, where she lived.
It was not until December 25, 1989 that his will could be carried out. Since that day, her remains rest in the Caibarién cemetery alongside those of the man who made history call for the second time in the life of the beautiful town woman. In front of their tomb the imperishable song was sung.
In the game of what could have been and was not, I think: if that afternoon, at María Teresa's house, instead of Corona, Villalón, or Campanioni, or Delfín, or Rosendo, or Sindo had been there, would we have another Longina? However, there was Corona and that's the story.
King without crown
Manuel Corona (1880-1950) was one of those beings rewarded by nature. He monopolized talent and hunger in equal parts. Black and poor, the success of compositions such as Mercedes, Aurora, Santa Cecilia and Longina herself did not provide him with comforts. He took from life the fleeting glow of endless revelry and left us his glory.
One of the most important Cuban composers, who recorded more than 100 pieces for companies such as RCA Victor, Edison and Columbia, died in great poverty on January 9, 1950 in a room on Marianao beach that the owner of the hotel had lent him. Jaruquito bar.
It is still moving to contemplate the humble sheets with lyrics of his songs, which were printed at the end of 1948, where he cried out for financial aid. “Help me, I'm sick,” he wrote. “Respectfully and voluntarily give me your bonus. PLEASE. Thank you very much and excuse me. "Manuel Corona."
Reading this claim to the glory of Cuban art, these verses from Shakespeare come to mind: “Life is nothing more than a passing shadow, a poor actor who struts and shakes, an hour on the stage, and then no one remembers.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zacSW3prhUE