It is impossible to be part of the Cuban dance community and not know what “timba” is. By this, I do not mean know as in: to have a definition of it; rather: to just know what it is when you listen to it, in the same way that you know love when you feel it, even as you cannot define it.
Although NG La Banda’s leader José Luis “El Tosco” Cortés coined in the 90s the musical phenomenon we refer to today as “timba,” (Moore 2010), the word “timba” has been around for much longer. Indeed, rumberos used “timba” to indicate that a particular drumming section was going spectacularly well (i.e. ¡La timba está buena! or, “The timba is good!”). Furthermore, a derivative of timba, “timbero,” was also used as a way to praise a musician. And of course, every Cuban knows the famous pan con timba which is essentially bread with guava and cheese.
Etymology aside, the word “timba” is here to stay. For many, it broadly defines the plethora of popular dance music that is currently produced in the island. Yet despite the contemporary omnipresence of the word and its use, I would venture that the term has only been truly embraced in the past 15 years or so. Let’s take the decade of the 90s, for example, which many in retrospect claim to be the Golden Age of timba, a period of true creativity and musical pioneering. It turns out that during this decade, many of these musicians who we now see as standard bearers of the timba movement were more likely to use the word salsa instead to promote their music. The two most clear examples are, of course, Manolín, who was dubbed by the aforementioned José Luis Cortés “El médico de la salsa” (or “Salsa’s Doctor”), and Issac Delgado, who called himself “El chévere de la salsa” (or “Salsa’s Cool Guy”). Along with these examples, you can find many songs by other artists and bands of this decade, like Paulo FG, Manolito y su Trabuco, Charanga Habanera, even Los Van Van, referring to their music as “salsa” in their songs—the clearest example being Elio Revé’s “Mi salsa tiene sandunga.”
For the entirety of the 90s, and much of the early 2000s, musicians labeled their music “salsa.” There was, of course, much debate about this among the musicians themselves, but the salsa label was recognized internationally, and musicians needed to sell their music outside of Cuba. The best example of this dilemma is musicians’ own use of the word “salsa” in order to enter the international dance music market in the 90s coupled with Cuba’s official use of a much broader expression, música popular bailable (“popular dance music”), to describe the same music. You will find a more in-depth analysis of this issue in Vincenzo Perna’s Timba: The Sound of the Cuban Crisis, which I recommend to anyone who wants to delve deeper into Cuba’s rich musical production following the Revolution of 1959.
But enough about music history. This entry is about dance.
So, how does this all relate to Cuban dance?
Well, it so happens that for a while now, and precisely because of the popularization and more widely-accepted use of “timba,” I have started to notice videos online showing workshops where people are learning how to dance “timba.” Mind you, dance timba, not dance to timba.
Meaning, there are people out there—many of them Cuban—teaching a Cuban dance called “timba.”
What’s more worrisome: there are people out there who take these classes who believe there is a Cuban dance called “timba.”
But here is the problem: there is no dance in Cuba called “timba.” It does not exist—at least not authentically.
What is happening is that instructors have found yet another marketing strategy to explain all of the fusions that they are selling to a public that is not well-informed about the realities of Cuban dancing in Cuba.
Allow me to explain, and it will all become clear.
To understand what it happening, we first have to go to Cuba, of course. If this so-called “timba” is a Cuban dance, it must have originated there. Regular people must be dancing it there. It must be a new craze, this new timba dance.
A perfunctory search on YouTube for “Cuban timba dance” yields what I, already knowing that there is no such thing as “timba dance” in Cuba, would have expected: videos of instructors dancing some kind of fusion. Videos like this one:
(A note on the videos used here: If the video is no longer available or set to private, that was the decision of the person who originally uploaded it. At the time of writing this post, all videos cited here were publicly available.)
This video is clearly promotional. Click on its description, and you will find a link to the dancer’s webpage, along with lessons she provides, etc. It is noteworthy that her website never states that she teaches “timba.” In her own words, she teaches “salsa casino, rumba, son, afrocubano, reggaeton etc.” But hey, this is the first video that popped up, probably what people are going to see first when they search for “timba dance.” So I had to use it.
This video should also be watched with skepticism. These are clearly instructors trying to sell classes to foreigners who want to experience “Cuban dance.” This is a problem, as I have extensively written here and here. In summary: given that the idea is to sell, instructors will cater to what foreigners already think Cuban dancing is. For many foreigners, Cuban dancing is a mixture of what they call “Cuban salsa” (I call it casino), and Afro-Cuban body movement. This is what has been selling for a long time now, which I explain in more detail in the hyperlinked articled mentioned earlier in this paragraph.
(This is not to say that in the video the instructors should not have mixed dances. The song clearly had a rumba section. But even then, they were doing whatever they wanted. I mean, the rumba section of the song was clearly a rumba guaguancó, yet there were some steps from rumba columbia, a completely different dance. Like I said, it’s the idea of Afro-Cuban dancing mixed into the more traditional partner dancing, rather than the actual dance traditions, that sells.)
The more salient issue is the fact that precisely because the instructors are catering to the needs of foreigners, they are dancing a version of what foreigners think Cuban dancing looks like—because again, that is what sells. In other words, they are not representing what actual Cuban dancing looks like.
So what do Cubans look like when they dance? Here are a couple of examples.
Here is a video from 2004:
And here is a video from 2016:
What is great about comparing these two videos is that you can truly appreciate that dancing has not changed. They are still dancing casino. They are not mixing it with anything. (For those who have read other articles in this blog, you know that I am against fusions without the music asking for it.) Indeed, the latter videos stand is stark contrast to the first promotional video I linked. One can clearly see the difference between instructors and regular people dancing. And if you found that you preferred the first video, well, that is exactly my point: they know what you like, and they will dance–and teach–keeping in mind what sells to you. There is a whole business around it. After all, they want your business. On the other hand, the Cubans in the latter videos couldn’t have cared less what you thought. They were dancing and enjoying themselves in their own way.
That, to me, that is the definition of authentic: when the dance is created by Cubans living in the island without consideration for whether or not foreigners would like it.
So, Cubans are not really dancing “timba.” Regular Cubans are still dancing casino, while instructors in Cuba are dancing whatever they think foreigners who come to Cuba to experience Cuban dancing want to learn.
So is there a timba dance in Cuba? The answer is no. Clearly people are dancing the same way still. There is no new dance, no timba craze. People are still dancing casino.
Which begs the question, Why do some people think that there is a Cuban dance called “timba”?
Simple: some Cuban instructors outside of Cuba are calling what they sell “timba.” It is the new marketing fad, designed to sell people the same stuff they have always sold them, but packaged under a recognizable, fancier name with enough wiggle room to claim that it is different—and in turn sell more classes/workshops.
I went ahead and spent some time looking on YouTube for videos of this so-called timba dancing. During my research, I noticed that there is no clear consensus as to what timba dancing is, nor what it looks like. And this is very important, folks, because this is what tells you that you are being duped by yet another marketing strategy that seeks to create yet another Cuban dance fantasy for you, the non-Cuban aficionado of Cuban dancing, and ultimately circumvent actual authentic Cuban dancing.
No one can agree on what timba dancing is because, simply put, everybody is just trying to sell classes under this new label. What is important is the use of the label, not the consistency of the content—or whether the dance actually exists, for that matter.
So let us begin examining this new marketing fad, this so-called “timba dance.”
I would argue that a good starting place would be this video. In the following video of a “timba” workshop, we see the dancers do a combination of loose steps (what people would call “suelta”), coupled with Afro-Cuban movement, then some partnerwork.
The same format is followed in this workshop: loose steps coupled with Afro-Cuban movement, then partner dancing. Then they break off and do more Afro-Cuban movement in a part of the song that is no different than the part to which they were dancing together.
Another video. Same format, but this is a straight-up choreography. Don’t get me wrong, the other ones were, too (those loose steps at the beginning are clearly choreographed); but in the case of this video, it is almost as if the instructors are doing a performance. This is not representative of social dancing, which is the whole point of learning to dance a social dance. Yet classes like this one exist.
So far, what people are calling timba is more or less consistent: loose steps with Afro-Cuban body movement, then partnerwork. Repeat. Of course, all of this is choreographed and unsustainable on the social dance floor, but at least there is some agreement.
Except, instructors have already been doing this for a while—and they did not call it “timba,” then.
This from 10 years ago.
Another one, this one from a workshop called “applying rumba to salsa.”
This “salsa” workshop more or less follows the format explained above:
You get the idea. For years, instructors have been teaching the exact same thing some are now calling “timba.” Except back then, the word “salsa”, and not “timba,” was used. But I repeat: it is the exact same thing: a fusion of dances that may not have anything to do with the music, choreographed steps and solos that do not reflect the dancing that occurs socially. (This would be a great time to go back to the videos of the Cubans dancing in Cuba I showed early, and see the stark difference again.)
Pretty much everything has been repackaged under a new label to sell you the same thing, so that you keep taking those workshops.
But let’s continue with the videos, because like I said, there is no consensus as to the dance of “timba” is.
For instance, let’s look at this video. Here, the instructor is teaching Cuban salsa (which he feels the need to clarify is “timba”), but notice he is just teaching a regular turn pattern (I thought “timba” was a fusion?). There are no loose steps or Afro-Cuban dances mixed into this. Yet, according to this instructor, this is “timba.”
Conversely, another “timba” workshop video shows us no partner dancing at all. (Weren’t people calling that “suelta” already?).
And here is renowned instructor Roly Maden teaching a beginner’s timba class—with no partner. It’s essentially another footwork class.
Again, you get the idea. Instructors are doing whatever they want, and of course, calling it whatever they want. As long as it sells, as long as you buy it, these practices will continue.
I will finish the video compilation with this one. This one almost caps the bullsh*t meter. “Timba contratiempo with rumba.”
Go figure what this is. Certainly nothing Cuban–in the sense that you won’t see this danced in Cuba by regular people. Certainly yet another instructor creation, far away from the authenticity of actual Cuban dancing in the island.
To summarize:
- Cubans in the island do not dance timba. They dance casino.
- Instructors in the island who sell “timba” classes are piggybacking on the popularity of the term created by other instructors outside of Cuba.
- Some instructors outside of Cuba have begun repackaging their “Cuban salsa” classes/workshops under the label of “timba.”
(And most importantly)
- The dance of timba doesn’t exist as an authentic Cuban dance.
Now, I will admit that there is an argument to be made about timba describing the fusions that have been characteristic of the Cuban dance scene outside of Cuba for years. In that sense, should these fusions be called “timba?” Well, I would argue that they are already called “Cuban salsa.” But if you want to take on that terminology battle, it’s all yours—as long as you understand that these fusions are instructor-created and are not representative of the way in which regular Cubans—not instructors—dance in the island.
In other words, whatever label you decide to use for these unauthentic fusions, whether it is “timba” or “salsa,” or whatever else, know that you are using this label to describe something that does not come from Cuba, but rather from the dynamics of the market for Cuban dance outside of Cuba.
Be culturally responsible and do not call it a Cuban dance.
Bibliography:
Moore, Kevin (2010: 11). Beyond Salsa Piano: The Cuban Timba Piano Revolution. v. 5 Introduction to Timba.
Son y Casino 
Oh dear! Are they dancing “the Timba” now? And with special dance shoes, too! How far they’ve all come from the slums of La Habana.
All the same, I have to challenge your assertion that “what Cubans dance” can be generalised nationally in any meaningful way, that is, a way which acknowledges the social roots of Timba, how its audience danced to it, and why. To approach it in a more specific way will also challenge your assertion that the incorporation of Afro-Cuban body movement is purely an inorganic novelty grafted on to Casino to attract customers. I say “purely”, because I do agree that today such movement is generally used out of context, out of relation to the music and, as far as teachers are concerned, as a money making USP (unique selling point). This is selling the culture way short, for short term personal gain, while cheapening traditions which constitute an extraordinary, fascinating, as well as tragic part of the total human experience.
In questioning Timba dance, I think you do well to start with Timba music as the two are inextricably linked and the dance came from the music. To say that people refer retrospectively to a golden age of Timba, however, is not entirely true. I lived through it. As far as I could be, living in the UK, I was part of it. I worked as a DJ and Salsa (years before west coast swing-salsa) then Casino teacher, in a milieu of Cuban economic exiles- few of them dance teachers. I managed visits in ’97 and 2001. The latter was a journey “al amarillo” from Santiago to La Habana over three weeks. What I’m saying is, I never went to Varadero, I saw how life was for different layers of Cuban society and I heard what they danced to in different parts of the country, how they danced, and what they called the music they danced to.
To make sense of all this it’s important to point out that although musicians may have congregated from all over the island, Timba was not a Cuban but an urban, primarily Habana phenomenon. Moreover, it was the music of the urban poor which, for historical reasons as well as enduring racism, was disproportionately dark skinned. The dark skinned urban poor and those who live alongside them have a culture of percussion, poly-rhythm, syncopation and social as well as religious dance that, although certain elements have entered national culture in diluted form, are not natural to all Cubans. Timba was, from its inception, overloaded with powerful bass and percussion and new gears to allow their expression. The Timba public could not find in traditional Casino adequate means to express what this new music and their upturned lives provoked. They found it in the social and religious Afro-Cuban dance which was natural to them from their daily lives. And even while Issac sang “los metales de la salsa” everybody also knew it as, and called the music, Timba. Likewise, Oyá Yansá is often called La Virgin De La Candelaria, the origin being to obscure one content with the socially acceptable form of another. There was nothing retrospective in the term Timba for those of us who were there.
To take on this spurious “Timba” dance from the angle you have chosen, then, doesn’t take us as close to the truth as it might. Cubans in general may dance Casino more or less as they did back in the day. But Timba was never the music of Cubans in general. I seldom found it outside of La Habana in the 90’s or Casino dancing for that matter. The Timba public danced Casino, yes, but with tembleque, and despelotes in the bombas and other novel gears. Segments of Rumba or other folkloric dance were thrown in where it felt right, and I’d add that to my personal taste, Osbanis’s use of such dance to El Trágico looks natural and appropriate, it doesn’t need to correspond with a gear change. That’s how we danced it because that’s how the music made us feel, and though my old bones are not what they once were, it still does.
The irony is, that the use of the Timba brandname increases in inverse proportions to the production of music that can accurately be described as Timba. Like Salsa before it, and a plethora of non-Latin genres, the name has become a package wrapped around a commercial product of decreasing originality and social relevance. So much of the music produced by big name bands could pass as low grade commercial salsa or Latin pop. The use of bombas, creative dissonance, jazz in the tumbaos and brass and the iconic shouted chorus has all but disappeared. Likewise, too often mention of the street does not ring true and lyrics tend towards the self-absorption of the middle class. As the dance is re-branded and folkloric culture degraded for novelty, the music is simultaneously bleached of all social content for a middle aged, middle class audience that never knew the meaning of libreta or cola and probably cares even less.
I admire you for fighting what is for me the good fight, even if not always the points you make or how you make them. The internet’s a big place but those who are really touched by the music and dance of Cuba can, with a bit of effort, find their way past the commercial chloroform as long as the truth is out there somewhere, waiting to be found. Keep going!
In passing sifting through music to find the gems is much of my life’s work. In no particular order, except Klimax, here are a few bands off the top of my head that in my view have, at least now and then in recent years, turned out a Timba tune –
Pride of place – Giraldo Piloto & Klimax
also
El Niño Y La Verdad
Noro y 1ra. Clase
Yuliet Abreu
Mónika Mesa
La Tabla
Carlon Y La 9a
Issac Delgado
Paulito FG
New Timberos All Stars
Alaín Pérez
Pupy Y Los Que Son Son
Yasser Ramos Y Su Tumbao Mayombe
Hi, Rufus,
Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment. I agree with a lot of what you are saying, and I just want to offer some points of clarification, lest I am misunderstood.
When I say “Afro-Cuban body movement,” I mean it in the context of the indiscriminate mixing of Afro-Cuban dances into casino. You, of course, are aware of this. There can be Afro-Cuban body movement in casino, from a shimmy, to the way hips move, to footwork. Of that there is no question. But these movements happen as a way to adorn what is happening; that is, they are stylistic add-ons. Dancers do not break off and suddenly start doing an Changó, which is what teachers are teaching.
(Now, if there is an explicit Orisha or rumba section, of course that should be respected in the dance, if the dancer knows how to do it. A common thread among the articles in this blog is to dance to the music and listen to the stories it has to tell.)
Of course, tembleque and despelote have been part of dancing to this type of music for a while, thanks to the gear changes. They have been well-documented in any research written about casino dancing. But again, tembleque and despelote happen because there are musical changes within the song. What is happening nowadays is that teachers are teaching to mix for mixing’s sake.
I never claimed that timba was the music of Cubans. If anything, this blog has always maintained that what we listen to are evolutions within the son genre.
As a last point, you may have gone to Cuba in 97 and 2001, but I lived in the island from 89 to 2004—and go back to see my family every year, sometimes more than once a year. So if we are going to compare anthropological notes, trust me, I know about layers of Cuban society.
Again, thanks for reading and your insightful comments!
First of let me say that I love your blog, have got a lot out of many of your articles, and really appreciate all of the thought you put into it and share!
I am not promoting dance classes or anything like that, I have no personal agenda in the matter… but I do read and think a lot about Cuban music and dance… and share those thoughts here
I tend to feel it maybe makes doesn’t hurt to distinguish the style of dancing people are doing now, in and outside of Cuba, to contemporary Cuban music from the style of dancing originally known as casino. The music has changed, and the dancing has changed.
Although they are connected through time, it is obviously very different how the rueda founders dance to an old song than how I see Cubans – and I’m talking about average people dancing at concerts, presumably not dance teachers and if they are they aren’t promoting classes in any obvious way – dancing to Los 4 or Maykel Blanco.
Timba incorporate many different influences and sounds and the songs have complicated structures – all of the various breakdowns and rhythmic fills, for example. A good dancer will be able to respond creatively to all of the changes in a song.
In my mind this is a different enough style of dancing that maybe it does make sense to think of the dancing as timba as well. I know when I go out to a social and hear a a more traditional salsa or son, I dance very differently than I would to a more exciting and complex contemporary timba track. And I tend to think of that as dancing casino vs dancing timba.
In the same sense going from say Elvis Presley to Fugazi you can see and trace a connection but also acknowledge that the music has clearly evolved and so over time we called it rock and roll, and then rock, and then punk, and then hardcore and on to post-hardcore etc. Or in dance, if you go from say breakdancing to turfing, there may be a connection but it has also clearly evolved into something new.
So while I see why you think that some of these videos you have highlighted look a bit silly – I agree –, and that instructors are clearly getting at times very creative in what they are teaching just to keep the money rolling in, I also think there could be a legitimate rationale for distinguishing traditional casino from contemporary casino by thinking of it as “timba”…
Hi, Gordon.
Thanks for reading and for your comments.
Again, I do not have a problem if people want to indiscriminately throw dances together, without regard for what is happening in the music, and call that “timba.”
The problem that I have is people doing this and saying that this is a Cuban dance. I repeat: there is no such thing as casino vs “contemporary casino.” There is casino, and then there is whatever instructors are teaching—which some are calling “timba.” There hasn’t been an evolution. That would imply that Cubans inside the island are doing these things, too. Who are doing these things are instructors OUTSIDE the island. That’s no evolution. That’s marketing.
When regular Cubans who know how to dance casino begin doing what these instructors are doing, then we can talk about evolution. In the meantime, let’s see what the instructors are doing for what it actually is.
Thanks for reading!
A few points:
1. I agree that there is no defined dance named “Timba”, only a style of music.
2. Still, I can see (not necessarily agree with) the logic of going from “I dance to Timba” to “I dance Timba”.
The path isn’t long, and quite natural in Spanish, as a term of speech.
3. I wouldn’t say that the instructors are not having fun creating and dancing what they sell, that they are having less fun when dancing Casino, or that they don’t dance the same as they teach when dancing socially, especially those of them who are leaders (followers have a bit less of a choice).
4. Yes, this is definitely a business oriented trend, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that someone / everyone is “being duped”.
Many people are aware of what they are paying for and are still interested in dancing that socially, so they are not being conned.
The more experienced ones are aware of the difference between “just Casino” and the stuff being taught in “Timba” classes, and like both.
People interested in “pure Casino” and nothing else most often just go to these classes, and not to “timba” classes.
5, The music in the recent decade features both various Rumba and various “Afro Cuban folkloric” rhythms much more often that during the 1990’s and early 2000s, so it makes lots of sense to familiarize with the relevant dances, if one wishes to have more “musicality” in their Casino dancing.
P.S:
Thanks for the great article, Daybert, especially for the “research article” format.
As a scientist and a Casino enthusiast for many years now, reading this is double the fun!